She, her beholding with attentive eye,At length did marke about her purple brestThat precious iuell, which she formerlyHad knowne right well, with colourd ribbands drest:Therewith she rose in hast, and her addrestWith ready hand it to have reft away;But the swift bird obayd not her behest,But swarv’d aside, and there againe did stay;She followed her, and thought againe it to assay.And ever when she nigh approcht, the doveWould flit a little forward, and then stayTill she drew neare, and then againe remove;So tempting still her to pursue the prey,And still from her escaping soft away;Till that at length into that forrest wideShe drew her far, and led with slow delay;In th’ end she her unto that place did guideWhereat that woful man in languor did abide.
She, her beholding with attentive eye,At length did marke about her purple brestThat precious iuell, which she formerlyHad knowne right well, with colourd ribbands drest:Therewith she rose in hast, and her addrestWith ready hand it to have reft away;But the swift bird obayd not her behest,But swarv’d aside, and there againe did stay;She followed her, and thought againe it to assay.And ever when she nigh approcht, the doveWould flit a little forward, and then stayTill she drew neare, and then againe remove;So tempting still her to pursue the prey,And still from her escaping soft away;Till that at length into that forrest wideShe drew her far, and led with slow delay;In th’ end she her unto that place did guideWhereat that woful man in languor did abide.
She, her beholding with attentive eye,At length did marke about her purple brestThat precious iuell, which she formerlyHad knowne right well, with colourd ribbands drest:Therewith she rose in hast, and her addrestWith ready hand it to have reft away;But the swift bird obayd not her behest,But swarv’d aside, and there againe did stay;She followed her, and thought againe it to assay.
And ever when she nigh approcht, the doveWould flit a little forward, and then stayTill she drew neare, and then againe remove;So tempting still her to pursue the prey,And still from her escaping soft away;Till that at length into that forrest wideShe drew her far, and led with slow delay;In th’ end she her unto that place did guideWhereat that woful man in languor did abide.
7th.—My curiosity about frost has been gratified. Each of the last three nights the thermometer has been below the freezing point—last night it was 28°. The ground is hard, and grass, trees, and shrubs, are quite white. Nothing can be more beautiful—each blade of grass sparkling with gems, every branch and spray covered with delicate crystals, and the leaves of the fir-trees hanging like little miniature icicles.
I asked my uncle where the frost comes from. “It is in fact,†said he, “frozen dew; when the ground is cooled down to 32°, the dew deposited on it is congealed, and becomes hoar frost. This often happens when the temperature of the atmosphere is much higher; and I have seen a copious hoar frost in a clear calm night, though the air was not colder than 40°.â€
When I begged my uncle to explain that, he told me that, from the satisfactory observationsof Dr. Wells, it appears that the heat which the earth receives from the sun in the day is returned orradiatedback again from the earth during the night, and is dispersed in the sky; the surface of the earth thus becomes cold from its sudden loss of heat, and congeals the dew. The cold produced by this radiation of heat from the earth, is always less if any substance be interposed between it and the sky; not only a solid body, but even a fog, or clouds, have this effect, because they intercept the heat, and perhaps again send back a portion of it to the earth; and this, he added, is the reason why a bright clear night is generally colder than a cloudy night.
I asked my uncle if that was also the reason that such slight substances, as straw or mats, are found to protect tender plants from cold?
“Yes,†said he; “I used to wonder how such thin, open things as Russia mats could prevent plants from becoming of the same temperature as the atmosphere; but when I learned that all bodies at night give out their heat by radiating it, unless some covering be interposed, which acts, not by keeping out the cold, but by preventing their heat from flying off, then I perceived the reason of what before had appeared to me to be almost useless.â€
He described several experiments he had tried to satisfy himself on this subject. He found that even a cambric handkerchief was sufficient;and that when raised a few inches in the air, the warmth of the grass beneath was 3° greater than that of a neighbouring piece of grass which was sheltered by a similar handkerchief actually in contact with it. All his experiments confirmed those of Dr. Wells, and shewed that by placing substances for the shelter of plants, not directly touching them, the effect was increased. Snow acts in the same manner as a preservative of plants when the ground is not already frozen.
Some other experiments my uncle then described, and he endeavoured to make me understand Dr. Wells’s general opinions on the formation of dew. He also mentioned the curious method they have in India of forming artificial ice in earthen-ware pans, where the temperature of the air is even 12 or 14 degrees above the freezing point. He concluded by saying, “I do not tell you all these particulars, Bertha, merely to stuff your memory with philosophical shreds and patches, but to excite your mind to observation and inquiry, which is a hundred times more useful.â€
8th, Sunday.—TheEphodbeing mentioned in a part of the Scripture I was reading this morning, I asked my uncle to describe it, for I had but a confused idea of the dress of the high priest. He says the name is derived from a Hebrew word, signifyingto tie. It was madeof linen, and brought from behind the back, over each shoulder; and then crossing the breast, it was passed round the waist so as to form a girdle; the two ends hanging down before. TheBreast-plate of Judgement, which was so called because the high priest wore it only when he went to consult the Divine Majesty, was made of the same materials as the ephod; and being two spans in length by one in breadth, it formed a square when doubled. The span, he says, was half a cubit, or about ten inches.
I then begged of my uncle to explain the nature of theUrimandThummim. He told me that the words signifylightandperfection; but as Moses does not appear to have received directions for making them, it is impossible now to form any distinct idea of the materials of which those sacred ornaments were composed, or of the manner in which they were employed, in order to obtain answers from the mercy-seat in the Tabernacle. The opinions of the learned have therefore been very various on those points: the Jews think they consisted of precious stones, which were so arranged that the partial brilliancy of certain characters engraved on them pointed out the required reply. Others suppose that they were merely parts of the grand dress, which qualified the high priest to present himself in the holy place on great occasions. But the question is of little importance to us; like manyother mysteries attending the Divine ordinances, we vainly endeavour to penetrate their meaning: we may, however, feel assured, Bertha, that if these things were necessary to be understood by us, they would have been fully explained. Many ceremonies in the ritual given to the Israelites, were adapted to them as a people who had lived amongst the heathens, and who had imbibed those prejudices and depravities of heathen worship, which were so totally removed from every thing spiritual. To us they may be objects of rational curiosity; but a knowledge of their use or precise fabric could add no essential testimony to the well-established truths of Scripture History.
“There is, however, one mode of viewing the subject, from which we may derive a useful hint: the high priest could not address the Almighty when divested of this emblem of light and perfection; in like manner our addresses to God will be of no use, unless we also are adorned, not indeed with theemblemof light, but with the true light of the Gospel; with that clear and bright faith which makes us feel the power and goodness of Him to whom we pray.â€
9th.—The beautiful hoar-frost at first gave to every twig and blade of grass the modest, quiet appearance of a wreath of pearls; but last night there was a slight shower of rain, and nowevery thing is glittering like diamonds. We observed, also, another peculiarly pretty circumstance: the wet being immediately frozen, every thing was enveloped with thin transparent ice, through which the leaves, and berries, and branches, were distinctly seen. Mary immediately repeated these lines:
Every shrub, and every blade of grass,And every pointed thorn seem’d wrought in glass;In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns show,While through the ice the crimson berries glow.
Every shrub, and every blade of grass,And every pointed thorn seem’d wrought in glass;In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns show,While through the ice the crimson berries glow.
Every shrub, and every blade of grass,And every pointed thorn seem’d wrought in glass;In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns show,While through the ice the crimson berries glow.
Already the birds are become tame, and many venture courageously to take crumbs off the window-stones. Poor little birds, this bright clear air, and sunshine, make every body else look gay, while they sit shivering or sadly chirping on the trees; even the hens and ducks look swelled and melancholy.
We walked to-day to Franklin’s farm, and found him taking advantage of the hardened ground, to put out manure; he had two carts employed, and all the people seemed trying to keep themselves warm by hard work.
The field which had been left to remainfallow, will be much improved by this frost, he says. It was a coarse, wet soil, full of lumps of heavy clay; and he shewed us how much these lumps were already broken. My uncle said that the soil being thus divided, and pulverised, would be greatly meliorated; so, as we walked home, Iasked him why the lumps of wet clay were broken by frost, which I thought would only have hardened them the more, like the road on which we were walking.
“The reason why the clods of wet earth are burst by the frost, is, that the water which they contain becomes ice; and, in doing so, it swells, and therefore requires greater space than while it was water. In the process of freezing, water crystallizes, and every crystal drives away the adjacent particles which interfere with its exact formation. This does not happen to hard roads, such as we are now walking upon, because they are closelybound, and do not admit the previous entrance of the moisture; but if the road was soft and spongy, you would then probably see, in its rough and uneven face, the effect of the frozen water. When we return home, if you look at the piece of gravel walk which was lately made, and is not, therefore, yet bound, you will observe what a curious appearance the frost gives it; the larger stones, which by their weight prevented the water from spreading under them, will appear sunk; while the sandy, spongy part which imbibed the rain, is swelled by the frost, and raises the surface of the walk. All crystals have a regular form, and in assuming it, they are obliged to recede a little from each other; each crystal, it is true, has but little power, but as their number is almost infinite, their combinedpower is so great, that what is called in military language ashell, that is, a hollow ball of strong cast iron, if filled with water and the aperture well secured, will burst when the water freezes. When such is the expansive power excited by water as it passes into the state of ice, we cannot be surprised that jugs and bottles of water are frequently broken in a frosty night—and that water pipes constantly burst when the frost penetrates to them.â€
10th.—The frost was so great last night, that it caused sad mischief. The thermometer sunk to 24°. Mary had two nice hyacinths in bottles; unfortunately, she placed them yesterday in a window where there was a bright sunshine; Frederick having promised to put them back safely in the latter part of the day. He forgot them; but, as soon as he woke this morning, he went to repair his error—when, to his great dismay, he found the glasses burst, and the water lumps of ice.
He went to Mary, but he was so sorry for his negligence, that she could not reproach him. The only thing to be done, she said, is now to consider how to relieve the bulbs from the ice that surrounds them. Frederick proposed placing them near the fire, that the heat might thaw the ice; but Mary told him that she was afraid the sudden change from cold to heat would make thebulbs decay—and that the best plan, she thought, was to put them into cold water. Mary had called me to look at the glasses on the first discovery of the misfortune; and we carried them and the bulbs inclosed in ice, to my uncle, who had just come down to the library, to consult him on what was best to be done. He approved of Mary’s proposal, and said, “That is a practical instance of the advantage of acquiring different kinds of knowledge.†Mary had concluded, that the sudden change of temperature would produce immediate decay in the roots—on the same principle that heat applied to people who have been frost bitten, causes mortification in the frozen part. My uncle afterwards told me, that the same thing happens to the frozen buds of tender plants, which are exposed to the rays of a hot sun before the frost has been dispersed; while those which are gradually thawed receive no injury.
I reminded him of his having spoken ofcrystalsof ice, and asked how that term could be applied to any thing but mineral bodies.
“The term crystal,†he replied, “came from the Greek word for ice—it was afterwards applied to rock crystal, which the ancients imagined to be water converted into stone; but it now signifies the regular figure in which the particles of any substance arrange themselves in passing from the liquid to the solid state.—Each of those substances has a figure for its crystal peculiar to itself, and from which it never varies. Common salt, for instance, dissolved in water, and slowly evaporated, always forms regularcubiccrystals of about an eighth of an inch in diameter, and quite transparent; sugar candy is nothing but sugar crystallized intosix-sided prisms; and alum forms itself into beautiful crystals ofeightsides. All this you may easily ascertain for yourself by experiment; and when I have an opportunity of taking you to a smelting house, you will see that in the cooling of melted metals, each metal assumes a crystalline shape belonging to itself.â€
I asked how, and when, all the crystals and precious stones and salts in the world could ever have been in a fluid state.
“One thing at a time,†said my uncle: “that question would lead us quite away from ice. I was going to tell you, that water, in the same manner as salt or metals, when it ceases to be fluid, which happens at the temperature of 32° of Fahrenheit’s thermometer, assumes a constant regular form. Now, Bertha,†he said, “examine this lump of ice, which was in the broken glass, both with and without your magnifying glass—and tell me how it appears.â€
I told him, that to my naked eye it seemed as if there were lines crossing and recrossing one another in an uneven manner; but that, with the glass, it appeared like a collection of littlespears with pointed ends, laid very closely together and mostly darting from the places where the ice had touched either the bulb or the side of the glass vessel.
“Yes,†said my uncle, “that is what I wished you to observe;—when ice begins to form on the surface of water, several of those spear-shapedspiculashoot from the edge of whatever contains the water, or from any solid body which happens to be in the water,—a bit of wood or even a straw.â€
I interrupted my uncle to beg he would explain the word spicula—I know he is never displeased at being interrupted by a question of that sort.
He told me thatspiculumis a Latin word, and means a dart or an arrow, or sometimes the sting of a bee,—spiculais the plural, and is commonly used in English to express any small pointed bodies.
“To return to the ice,†said he: “that first set of spicula serve as bases for a new set, and these again for others; each single spiculum diverges or spreads from its own base at an angle of nearly 60°, and therefore they all cross each other in an infinite variety of directions, and this process continues till one even sheet of ice is formed.†I asked my uncle, if the reason why the ice occupies more space than the water was, that those spicula or crystals, from their shape,and from shooting in various directions, cannot lie so closely together as the minute particles of water.—
“Yes,†said he, “you are perfectly right—a proof of this is, that it requires great power to compress water in the smallest degree; while the hardest ice, if pounded, may be easily forced into a smaller space.â€
We all again examined the formation of the ice in the broken glasses, and I saw the pretty little spicula quite distinctly—we then went to breakfast, leaving the bulbs to thaw quietly in their cold bath.
11th.—After the hyacinth roots were thawed yesterday, they were placed in a warm room; and we had a great deal of conversation about the different effects of heat and cold, according to the different bodies that are exposed to them. I learned that extreme heat is necessary to liquefy steel, platina, or porcelain; some metals require far less, and Mrs. P. says she once bought in a toy shop, some spoons made of bismuth, tin and lead, which melted in a cup of hot tea. The warmth of the skin is sufficient to thaw frozen water. On the other hand, the degree of cold requisite to render mercury solid is very great, while that which forms ice is moderate.
Among vegetables, there are many which resist the strongest frost, and the native trees herehave their stems very seldom injured. Most of the herbaceous plants lose their stalks, though their roots remain alive; and some revive at the return of spring even after their roots have been frozen.
Ants and flies, and many other insects, fall asleep in a very slight degree of cold.—Dormice, also, and other animals of the same class, appear as if life was suspended for several months during cold weather, so much so that their heart ceases to beat. The snail and the toad undergo the same stupefying effect, and serpents can be frozen so as to become brittle; if they are broken in that state, they die, but if left in their holes, into which the warmth of spring penetrates slowly, they recover.—It is in the season when their food begins to fail, and the fruits which fattened them disappear, that these creatures conceal themselves in order to submit to this wise law of nature. Those that are deprived of food by the snow covering the ground, sleep till it melts. The white bear lives on the sea shore in summer, and on islands of ice in autumn, and he does not fall asleep till the ice, being thickened and raised too high above the water, is no longer the resort of his chief prey, the seal. His means of obtaining food continuing longer, a much severer cold is requisite to deaden in him the call of seeking it, than in the black bear who devours vegetables; or than in the brown bear who liveson animals who retire earlier than he does.—That hunger should thus give way to sleep, when the cold which benumbs them would starve them by famine, appears ordered by that benevolent Providence, who regulates every part of the universe.
My uncle says that something like this is the case in man; when the cold is very violent he becomes insensible; if one of his limbs should freeze he does not perceive it, but on the contrary fancies himself growing warmer, and feels such a propensity to sleep, that he is angry at being roused. There are continual instances of this in the northern parts of Europe; and the poor frozen person, if indulged by his companions in closing his eyes for a few minutes, seldom opens them again. He does not, however, die immediately, my uncle says: it is even thought by some, that as long as the same temperature continued, he would sleep like the dormouse, deprived of all vital action.
My aunt said, she wondered whether human creatures could be revived, after having been many days frozen, provided similar means were used for their recovery that are employed to restore a frozen limb. Warmth, she said, is applied with the utmost caution, the frozen parts are rubbed with snow and then immersed in water very little warmer than melted ice. The attempt would be worth making, instead of abandoning frozen people to their fate, she thought; but thatas to having the power of sleeping like a dormouse or a bear, to whom Providence gives that habit, because they have no means of procuring food, she could not believe that possible. “Man has so many resources, that it was evidently unnecessary to endow him with the capability for sleeping away hunger; but I really believe,†she added, “that there are people of such inveterate indolence, that they would sleep for several months to relieve themselves from all care, if they had the power of voluntary torpidity.â€
My uncle replied that doubts have been expressed whether it was in any case a voluntary power; it is asserted that animals never yield to torpidity till driven to it by necessity; and that many of those lethargic animals, while existing during winter on their accumulated fat, which is gradually absorbed into the system, retain the use of their faculties. The cricket is one proof, that animals do not submit to it from choice. This insect passes the hottest part of summer in crevices of walls and heaps of rubbish; about the end of August it quits its summer dwelling, and endeavours to establish itself by the fireside, where the comforts of a warm hearth secure it from torpidity. He then mentioned a colony of crickets which had taken up their abode in a kitchen, where the fire was discontinued from November to June, except oneday every six weeks. On these days they were tempted from their hiding place, and continued to skip about and chirp till the following morning, when they again disappeared in consequence of the returning cold. This fact, which he was told by an ingenious friend, shews that in crickets at least torpidity depends on circumstances; and perhaps other sleeping animals, he says, have the same accommodating faculties.
Mrs. P. amused us with some very extraordinary accounts of toads that have been found in the stems of old trees, so that the wood must have grown round them; and even in cavities of stones without the smallest crack or aperture for any communication with the air. My uncle told her that an experiment had not long ago been tried at Paris on that curious subject: a living toad was inclosed in plaster, and at the end of six months it was alive and strong; but some one having suggested that plaster of Paris when dry is more or less porous, the same experiment has been repeated with the addition of a coat of varnish to prevent the admission of air.
Before we separated, my uncle promised to procure for me if possible a torpid dormouse.
12th.—You must allow, mamma, that my journal never detains you very long on any one subject: from polar bears and frozen limbs we must now skip to tobacco plantations and theWest Indies, where you know, Mrs. P. resided some time.
My uncle was inquiring from her this evening about the different modes of culture and the proper soil for tobacco. Few plants, she says, are so much affected by situation; it acquires such different qualities from the soil, that tobacco plants which have been raised in one district, if transplanted into another, though not a quarter of a mile distant, will entirely change their flavour. For instance: the Macabau snuff is made from the leaves of a tobacco plant which takes its name from the parish of Macabau in St. Kitt’s, and there only the real snuff of that name can be prepared. Both plants and seed have been tried in all parts of that island, and in several of the other islands too, but the peculiar scent has not in any instance been retained.
The tobacco of St. Thomas has also a particular smell, which the produce of no other island resembles. It is a curious circumstance that none of it is manufactured there; it is all sent to Copenhagen, and is returned from thence to St. Thomas, and made into snuff. In Barbadoes they make the highly scented rose-snuff, which is sometimes imitated in London by adding attar of rose to fine rapee; but in the island it is made by grating into the snuff a fruit called the rose-apple, which is cultivated for that purpose. It is, however, neither a rose nor anapple, though, when ripe, it somewhat resembles a crab-apple; but it has a stone within, and has at all times a delightful fragrance like the rose. The fruit, when ripe, is gathered, and carefully dried in the shade.
But what interested me much more than all her snuff and tobacco, was the account she gave of some dear little green humming-birds, that used constantly to build amongst the flowers of a convolvolus that grew against the house near her window. She took the greatest pleasure in listening to their little feeble notes, and in watching their rapid motions and all their habits. They were of a smaller species than any of our little Brazilian beauties; and she says the eggs were actually just the size of coriander seeds!
14th.—As I was curious to see the effect of frost on a very wet soil, Frederick and I went this morning to a spot in the low fields, where we knew it was always swampy. We observed that, as we walked there, the ground crackled, and sunk a little beneath our feet; so Frederick went for a spade, and we gently raised up one of the large lumps between two of the cracks. We found very near the surface a thin crust of ice, and under that a forest of minute columns of ice, standing close together like a fairy palace, with rows in it of clustered pillars; for each column was in reality composed of several lesser ones,not thicker than large pins. You cannot think, mamma, how pretty they were.
When we raised one of these cluster columns with its capital of earth, it separated quite easily from the ground beneath it; but still a thin film of earth remained sticking to the bottom of the column. Frederick brought home a lump of these icy pillars on the spade, and my uncle laid aside his letters, to shew, he said, how much pleasure he felt when he saw us in pursuit of knowledge. As soon as he looked at our pillars, he said, “In that sort of spongy soil where you found them, these icy crystals are formed so immediately under the surface, that only a thin crust of earth remains over their tops; and the film of clay, which sticks to the bottom of the column, shews you that the frost has not penetrated below it, but that the earth beneath continues soft. I see you are looking at those marks across the pillars: break the column at one of the marks.â€
I did break one, and found exactly such a film of earth between the two parts of the column, as that which was on the bottom of it. I asked how could earth get into the middle of the crystal?
“Each division,†said my uncle, “shews a separate crystal—each crystal was formed in one night,—and the number of joints or interruptions in the column shew how many nights we have had frost.â€
I reckoned four divisions in each column; theuppermost was the longest, the next shorter, and so on; and I pointed out that circumstance to my uncle.
“That,†said he, “is easily accounted for; whatever quantity of moisture there was in the ground at first, there must have been less and less every succeeding night, and the length of the columns therefore diminished each night in the same proportion.â€
In a short walk that we afterwards took with my uncle, he observed, as we passed the garden of a small cottage on the border of the forest, that it was late to see carrots still in the ground; and Frederick remarked that the earth looked cracked and swelled round them. My uncle asked leave of the cottager to go into the garden, and there we found that several carrots were actually pushed upwards by the icy columns, the tops of which adhered to the crown of the plant, from which the leaves spring. As the additional joints of the columns had formed, they had acted with so much force, as, in some cases, to break the small fibres by which the root is held in the ground; and in others even the end of the tap root of the carrot was snapped asunder.
I took an opportunity of asking my uncle if there are any spicula in an icicle, which looks so transparent and smooth.
He explained to me, that an icicle assumes its smooth conical form from the gradual congealing of the water as it flows down the surface of the icicle. When broken across, he shewed me that it was somewhat radiated in the structure, as if the spicula arranged themselves round the axis; and he added that if I examined a flake of snow, I might see the same appearance.
I next asked him (indeed he is very patient) if it is the shooting of these spicula that causes the beautiful appearance of leaves and flowers on the windows; he said, yes. But why then are the shapes of the leaves so very various?
“On a calm night,†he replied, “only a close, even net-work is formed; but the least current of air whirls the moisture into an amusing variety of forms. That icy foliage is generally withinside the window, because our breath contains much moist vapour; and as no room that has doors, windows, and chimnies, can be without partial drafts of air, so the spicula are urged together in one place, and irregularly checked in another.â€
15th, Sunday.—Frederick asked my uncle this morning, why the work of the tabernacle was so minutely described in the Bible.
“It is supposed,†he replied, “that Moses has been thus exact in relating how the tabernacle was made, in order to shew that all was done according to God’s directions, detailed in the preceding chapters; and it is therefore thatMoses so frequently repeats the expression ‘as the Lord commanded.’
“In reading the account of the Jewish tabernacle, as well as of the various ceremonies of the law, we should always consider for what ends God was pleased to ordain those things. St. Paul informs us that the Jewish law was an imperfect dispensation from the first, and added, that though it was adapted to the weakness of the Jews, its several institutions were intended to typify the more perfect dispensation of the Gospel. Thus, the Jewish high priest was a manifest type of our Saviour; and the ark in the Holy of Holies, with its mercy-seat, from whence God communicated his will, was an emblem of Him from whose mouth we afterwards received the perfect law.
“The religious services ordained, weresacrificesof different kinds, and variouspurifications. All these apparently burdensome rites were, however, aptly significant of many things tending to preserve an inward, true religion; such as the constant acknowledgment that all the blessings we enjoy are the direct gifts of God; 2dly, the feelings of reverence due to his temple, and to all the things appropriated to his service; 3dly, the necessity of curbing our passions, and of atoning for past errors; and further, the impossibility of rooting out our evil habits without vigorous exertions. These and other moralobjects, of the same nature, were well understood by the Israelites to be specifically represented in the ceremonial law.
“There were, also, certain solemnfestivalsordained as commemorations of signal national mercies and deliverances. Nothing could have been better calculated to keep alive the spirit of gratitude to the bountiful Author of those mercies; and that nothing could be more consistent with the feelings of the human mind, has been exemplified by the practice of every age and nation, in the anniversary observances of religious, national and domestic events.â€
16th.—The frost still continues; and instead of being miserably cold, as I expected, I almost enjoy it. There is not much wind, and the air feels dry and clear. We take long quick walks in the bright part of the day while the sun shines. The rooms are very comfortable, and I find, as my aunt told me, that I am less chilly when I stay at a moderate distance, than when I sit quite close to the fire. In the latter part of the day, if we begin to grow cold after the glow of warmth produced by walking is gone, we take some good house exercise, and that always brings it back.
Frederick asked my uncle to-day, whether it is by the loosening of the earth round the rootsof plants as we saw, last Saturday, had happened to the carrots, that frost kills them?
“Perhaps,†said he, “that may have some injurious effect upon tender plants; but it is by bursting the sap vessels that frost does the most mischief.â€
“I suppose the sap freezes, and that its expansion bursts the vessels?†I said.
“Just so,†replied my uncle; “this frequently occurs, even in moderate frosts, to tender plants, especially if they are succulent. But in very severe winters even forest trees have suffered. In the great frost of 1739 and 1740, the largest branches were split from end to end, and numbers of the most hardy trees died in consequence.â€
All this made me very anxious about my garden and my nice plants; I had already put stable litter on them; and I asked my uncle, if that should be frozen through, what he would recommend me to do.
He advised me to bend some long withies of sallow over them, so as to leave a small space above the surface of the litter, and over the sallows to spread either a mat or fir boughs; and he reminded me that he had explained some days ago the use of this process.
“Besides which,†said Mary, “I believe the stillness of the air under the covering helps todelay the freezing of the moisture in the ground. I recollect that the winter before last, which was very severe, Mamma had fir branches hung on the wall to cover her tender climbing plants, and long stiff straw or fern was lightly strewed round their roots, and they all lived through the winter, and looked healthy and beautiful in summer.â€
My uncle told me for my satisfaction, that a long frost, if not very intense, is less injurious to tender plants, than a milder season in which soft weather and frost alternate: in open weather there is a tendency in the sap to rise; and if it is checked by succeeding cold, the sap vessels are injured, and the plant becomes sickly or decays.
“Is that,†said Frederick, “the reason why spring frosts are more hurtful than those of winter?â€
“That is the principal reason; but you must also consider that the ground during the previous summer had absorbed a great quantity of heat, which helps to mitigate the winter’s cold: this has been all expended before spring, and therefore the whole force of the cold is then felt.â€
Frederick said he remembered hearing Mr. Grant mention last autumn that all the potatoes had been injured by frost in Alney valley near Gloucester, while those on the side of thehill had quite escaped; and as he thought valleys must be warmer than hills, he begged of my uncle to explain the cause.
“Valleys,†he was answered, “are more sheltered from the wind; and the air in them is undoubtedly hotter in the day time than that on exposed high grounds. But in autumn, when the nights become cold, and slight frosts occur on the sides of the hills, the air that is cooled there being heavier than warm air, sinks down into the lower grounds, displaces the warm air, which rises, and accumulates in the bottom of the valley.
“There is another reason why, on clear nights at least, the cold is more severe in low confined places that are sheltered from the wind. The radiation of heat into the sky, which I lately explained to you, reduces their temperature below that of the air, except what is in immediate contact with them; and there being no wind, there can be no circulation of the warmer air to replace the heat they have lost.â€
17th.—Hamlet was mentioned yesterday after dinner; a great deal was said about it, and many different opinions were expressed. At last, to my great vexation, my uncle observed that I took no part in the conversation.
“Come, my little Bertha, we must have youropinion, pro or con; are you one of those who overlook the merits to mark the faults? Tell me what you think.â€
This direct question of my uncle’s was really terrible; every creature was silent—and I was obliged to acknowledge that I had only read Hamlet once, not having felt as much interest in it, as in many other tragedies of Shakspeare. There was something which appeared to me a little confused in the whole plot—the ghost, too, disappointed me:—and Hamlet seemed unnecessarily unkind to poor Ophelia—and in short I did not very much like the play, perhaps because I did not understand it.
My uncle praised me for having courage to express honestly what I thought; and he said he would read the play to us, that I might enter into the spirit of it while the conversation was fresh in my recollection. He had taken but little part in the conversation, his object being rather to draw out all our opinions, than to influence them by his own; but as he was going to begin, he said, “It appears to me that Hamlet is not quite suited to very young people: it scarcely comes within the range of their views of the human mind. One of the earliest critics on Shakspeare remarked that Hamlet ‘can only please the wiser sort;’ and I will therefore endeavour, by a few hints, to direct your attention to the main object of the play, and to one ortwo objects most worth noticing. Unless young people learn how to see and think for themselves, liking or disliking becomes the mere effects of caprice or fashion.
“In this play, Bertha, the object of chief interest is not the plot nor even the events—it is character. The reader easily anticipates the story, and feels no great suspense as to the fate of the king or queen; and though our love of justice naturally makes us rejoice in the punishment of vice, almost all our feelings are absorbed by the character of Hamlet—the impulses of his noble mind, and the indignation he feels at unexpected wickedness.
“The passions of the various persons in this drama are displayed with equal truth and strength. Hamlet’s grief and horror at the death of his father, and at his mother’s baseness, are beautifully and naturally expressed. He feels as a virtuous and honourable man, but he feels also as a son; and in those contending feelings lie the great interest of the piece. Even in the utmost vehemence of his indignation, his manner of treating his mother is remarkable; and, as some writer has observed, it is that which chiefly distinguishes his character from that of Orestes, and shews indeed, in the difference between those two heroes, the opposite principles of the Christian, and the heathen, authors.
“As to his madness, you may perceive that it was feigned in order to prevent all suspicion, on the part of the king, of the enterprise he was engaged in; and to confirm that idea he affects a severity of conduct towards Ophelia in direct opposition to his former sentiments. In the distracted state of his mind, he could not possibly explain to her the cause of his suspended affection. His ruling passion was to think, not to act; and all his principles of action were unhinged by the harassing scene around him. Though he contrived the scene in the play to prove the truth of the ghost’s suggestions, yet he appears to rest satisfied with the confirmation of his suspicions, and declines to act upon them. But, though his character does not shew strength of will, it is every where marked by quick sensibility, and refinement of thought.
“The other characters have also great merit. Ophelia is beautifully painted; her love, her madness, and her death, are described with the truest touches of tenderness and pathos. Polonius is an excellent representation of a large class of men, who talk wisely and act foolishly. The advice he gives his son is sensible, while that to the king and queen respecting Hamlet’s madness is ridiculous; but, the one is the sincere advice of a father, the other that of a meddling and officious courtier; and throughout this partShakspeare keeps up the nice distinctions between the understanding, the habits, and the motives of mankind.
“The plot of this play may be, as Bertha says, confused, and the catastrophe, as Johnson tells us, not very happily produced by the awkward exchange of weapons; but if you study it as a display of character, you will discover fresh beauties every time you read it; you will perceive that it is of a higher order of dramatic painting than many of Shakspeare’s more popular works, and that it abounds in the most eloquent and striking reflections on human life.â€
18th.—The Lumleys arrived yesterday; my aunt having invited them to meet Mrs. P. I feel very glad, indeed, to see them again, and I am not this time out of humour at interruption from visiters.
We amused ourselves part of yesterday evening withstory play, which I had never heard of before. You are to whisper aword, which must be a substantive, to the person who begins the play, and who is to tell a short story or anecdote, into which that word is to be frequently introduced. It requires some ingenuity to relate the story in so natural a manner, that the word shall not be too evident, and yet that it may be sufficiently marked. When the story is finished,each of the party endeavours to guess the word, and the person who discovers it tells the next story. I will give you a sample.
It was decided that my aunt should begin; Frederick whispered the word; and she began so naturally about a visit from Mr. Arthur Maude, who has just returned from Italy, that, at first, I thought she was not going to join in the play.
“Mr. Maude tells me,†continued my aunt, “that he has been greatly interested by the Vaudois, and well repaid, by seeing those amiable people, for the fatigue of making that part of his tour on foot.
“In a beautiful valley between Pignerola and La Tour, he observed a small open arch, under a group of oak trees, that stood on a round green knoll. He afterwards learned, that this arch had been erected about the time that the poor Vaudois had been obliged to quit their native hills, under the brave and pious Arnaud. It was ornamented with figures of saints, and had such an uncommon appearance among those wild valleys, that he sat down to make a sketch, not only of the arch, but of the picturesque scene which surrounded it. Twice he began, and twice he was interrupted by sounds of distress, which seemed to come from within the arch. On approaching it, he found a young creature about fifteen, seated under the shade ofthe arch, and plying her distaff diligently while the tears fell from her eyes. In reply to his inquiries as to the cause of her grief, she timidly told him, that her poor old father had been so ill that he could earn nothing for many weeks; and having already been reduced to sell every thing but his house, he was totally unable to pay one of the heavy taxes which was now demanded from him. She had, therefore, been spinning—spinning—for ever with her distaff, but all in vain; her yarn was not ready, they must pay the tax without delay, and to do so she must part with the only treasure she possessed: that was the cause of her sorrow; and she had retired to that little arch to avoid the sun, and to conceal her tears from her father.
“‘For that one thing, I can get money enough,’ said she, ‘but how can I part with it! It was once the Bible of Henri Arnaud; my grandmother gave it to me, saying, “Never, never part with this precious book, Janetta.†But, what can I do?’—and her tears burst out afresh. ‘Imustsell Henri Arnaud’s bible, or my father will have no house to shelter him!’
“Mr. Maude asked her to guide him to her father’s cottage. She took him by a winding path which led from the arch, to a very poor little chalet, overhung by chesnut trees. The old man was seated on a bench at his door; and Mr. Maude, placing himself at his side, and entering into conversation, observed how much his pale countenance brightened at the interest with which a stranger listened to his anecdotes of Henri Arnaud. Mr. Maude indulged himself by giving a small sum, which was sufficient to pay the tax. And having thus enabled the little Janetta to keep her valued Bible, he returned, I am sure, with a happy mind, to finish his sketch of the picturesqueArch.â€
Mary readily guessed that word, and my aunt therefore whispered one to her. After considering for a moment, she proceeded—“The Alpine Marmot, you know, is one of those animals that pass a portion of the year in a torpid state. It delights in cold mountainous regions, where it burrows in the ground, and prepares its wintry residence with great art, lining it with the finest grass. To collect this grass, the whole family, it is said, act in concert; some are employed as sentinels, to give notice of approaching danger; others cut it; and when a sufficient quantity is gathered, one of them acts the part of a waggon, to carry it home. This marmot lays himself on his back, stretches his legs upward, and suffers himself to be loaded just like a waggon of hay. One set then take hold of him by the tail, and drag him along on his back; while another set act as guides, to prevent accidents, or to remove any roughness inthe path, which might overturn their little living waggon.â€
My uncle having rightly guessed the waggon, he was next called before the house; Mary first giving him his text word.
“I would readily gratify with a tale all the friends collected here to be amused; but alas! not having been gifted with invention, by the fairy presiding at my birth, I can offer you nothing but an historical fact: I can vouch, however, for its fidelity, as I had it from the lips of the person to whom it occurred.
“When Sir Charles W. was ambassador at the court of St. Petersburg, he found that the intrigues of a party in the Russian cabinet were all directed against our interests; and, with his usual promptness, he wrote despatches to communicate the circumstance to his own government. These despatches were treacherously obtained by the Russians; but as they were found to be in a secret cipher, they were incomprehensible. By the most culpable want of fidelity, however, in some of Sir Charles’s household, it was discovered that thekeyto this cipher was pasted on a screen, which he kept carefully locked up in a closet, within his own bed-room; yet in spite of this precaution, some artful person contrived to get in there, and was thus enabled to decipher his dispatches.
“The following night, he was awakened by hisfriend General Rostopchin, who, with the courage and fidelity of real friendship, risked every thing to warn him of his danger.
“‘Fly my, friend,’ he exclaimed, ‘your despatches have been read—the council is now sitting, and it is resolved that you shall be seized and sent to Siberia. Every moment’s delay increases your danger. I have prepared every thing for your escape; the British fleet is off Cronstadt, and now only can you get on board.’
“The friendship of this generous Russian had even triumphed over the fidelity which he owed his own sovereign. But Sir Charles, though full of gratitude, refused to take his advice.
“‘I am here,’ said he, ‘as the representative of the British King; and never can I so forget his Majesty’s dignity, as to fly from danger. They may send me to Siberia, at their peril; but I never will voluntarily quit my post. I will immediately appear at the council, and assume my place as the ambassador of England.’
“With the utmost expedition he arose, and prepared to appear at the Russian council; but with a presence of mind, like Lord Nelson’s, when he waited to seal his letter with wax, that it might not appear written with precipitation, Sir Charles dressed himself with the utmost precision, in full court dress, to shew that he felt perfectly at ease. When he entered the councilchamber, all his enemies seemed to shrink—no one ventured to intercept him as he advanced to the Empress. She received him graciously, and, extending her hand to him, looked contemptuously at those around her, saying, ‘I wish I might possess such a minister as this British ambassador; on him, indeed, his master can justly rely for courage and fidelity.’â€
Wentworth guessed the particular word in this interesting anecdote; and a new one having been whispered to him, he begged leave to tell us a traveller’s story:—
“Mr. Scouler, in his voyage up the Columbian river, came to a curious rocky hill, called Mount Coffin by Captain Vancouver. These rocks appeared to be the burial place for the natives of an extensive district; who from dread, as well as respect, the Indians are in the habit of depositing at a considerable distance from their dwellings. The bodies were placed on the rocks in canoes, which served as coffins, and which were covered by boards and secured by great stones. Into these canoes, or more properly speaking coffins, their disinterested relations, unlike hungry heirs in more civilized countries, had crammed all the valuable property of the deceased. Mr. Scouler mentions as a remarkable circumstance, that a large serpent, which you know is the emblem of immortality, issued from one of the coffins as if to warn off all intruders from that sacred spot. Perhaps,†continued Wentworth, “the Indians have some confused idea of the river Styx, and think their deceased friends will be the more readily ferried over to paradise from being placed in a canoe instead of a coffin.â€
Mr. Lumley was very much pleased with the manner in which Wentworth had performed his part, and having of course guessed the coffin, he was next brought forward.
“My mother,†he said, “had a dream soon after I was born, which she afterwards told me, and which still remains fresh in my memory. She imagined that an angel appeared and told her that her new born son might possess all the qualities of both heart and understanding for which she had so ardently prayed; ‘but,’ added he, ‘you have omitted in your petitions to ask for one power of the mind, without which all acquirements lose their value, and even the best feelings of the heart will be rendered useless. Now is the time to repair your error—ask quickly for that essential blessing for your boy, and you shall have it.’
“My mother’s heart beat high; her thoughts became so much confused that it was some time before she could command them sufficiently to decide upon what this nameless treasure could be. She fancied she heard the quivering of the angel’s wings, as he rose into the air to depart;and, in an agony of despair lest she should lose for ever this precious gift, she struggled to utter the wish which now was uppermost, but in her effort to speak, she awoke.
“Now tell me, my friends, what was the wish that trembled on her lips, and you will have my word.â€
I guessed it, and told some dull story which is not worth repeating; the rest of the company told theirs; but as I have not time for all, I will go on at once to Caroline, who, with a pretty little blush, thus began:—
“Three young children were coming down the Mississippi with their father in a sort of a boat which they call there a pirogue. They landed on a desert island in that wide river, in a bitter snowy evening in the month of December; their father left them on the island, promising to return after he had procured some brandy at a house on the opposite bank. He pushed off in his little boat to cross the river, but the wind was high, and the water rough.—The children watched him with tears in their eyes, struggling in his pirogue against the stream, till about half way across, when they saw the boat sink—and never more saw their father. Poor children! they were left alone, exposed to the storm, without fire, shelter, or even food, except a little corn.
“As the night came on, the snow fell faster,and the eldest, who was a girl of only six years old, but very sensible and steady for her age, made her little sister and her infant brother creep together close to her, and she drew their bare feet under her clothes. She had collected a few withered leaves and branches to cover them, and in this manner they passed the long winter’s night. Next morning she tried to support her poor weeping companions by giving them corn to chew, and sometimes she made them run about with her to keep themselves warm.
“In this melancholy state you may imagine what was her joy, when, in the course of the day, she discovered a vessel—no—a boat approaching the island. It happily contained some good-natured Indians, who took compassion on the children, shared their food with them, and safely conveyed them to New Madrid in their own boat.â€
The mistake that poor Caroline made in saying vessel for boat, and then correcting herself with a little confusion, betrayed her; so that the moment she ended her story, every one exclaimed “Boat,†“Boat.â€
19th.—In the morning we had a shower of hail, and since seven o’clock it has been snowing constantly the whole day. I am delighted with its pure, beautiful, feathery appearance; besides,it has brought back to my mind little shadows of things that happened before we left England. The ground all white, and the large blazing fire, remind me of the time when we were at Montague Hall, when my grandfather used to employ me to gather the crumbs at breakfast, to put out of the windows for the poor little starving birds. I believe it was that circumstance that gave me such a love of birds; for I am sure I can recollect the happiness I used to feel when feeding them along with good grandpapa, and watching all their little motions.
My uncle was amused with my exclamations of delight at the snow, and he was good enough to shew me that each flake has a star-like appearance, consisting of five or six rays that diverge from the centre; and that from each of these rays littlespiculashoot out, which by crossing each other form a beautiful net-work. He says that when clouds are formed at such a height in the air as that the temperature there is below 32°, the particles of moisture become congealed or frozen. If the particles are small, or if they are slowly frozen, they become snow, which gradually descends to the earth; but it often happens that the atmosphere near the earth is so warm as to re-dissolve the snow while falling, so that it comes down in the shape of rain. “This,†he added, “cannot take place with hail, because it is so much more solid,and falls so rapidly, that the warmth of the lower atmosphere has not time to melt it, before it reaches the ground. In summer, therefore, snow may be formed at a great elevation, as people who have ascended in balloons have more than once witnessed, but it again becomes rain in its descent; whereas, hail, for the reason I have given you, has been known to come down in the hottest months of the year.â€
I reminded him that he had not told me why the moisture should sometimes freeze into flakes of snow, and sometimes into the pretty little round balls of hail.
“I waited,†he replied, “till you asked that question; for information is always best remembered when the want of it is felt. If the particles of moisture in the atmosphere are small, and if they areslowlycongealed, they form themselves into flakes of snow, as I have already mentioned; but when the moist vapour rapidly collects into large drops of rain, and when these aresuddenlyfrozen, they become hail.â€
“So that in fact,†said I, “hailstones are nothing more than little balls of ice.â€
“They are ice, but not common transparent ice,†my uncle said, as he opened the window and picked out a few hailstones from under the snow; “you see that they have an opaque whiteness very different from the appearance of ice. The upper regions of the air are not only alwayscolder, but also lessdensethan those near the surface of the earth; and the white porous nature of hail is owing to therarityof the atmosphere where they were congealed. Professor Leslie has proved this by the simple experiment of freezing small quantities of water in the reservoir of an air pump from which the air had been considerably exhausted. Hailstones, however, are not always globular like these; I have seen a shower of irregular lumps of ice of a great size, some of them weighing even three or four ounces, and producing dreadful mischief, killing the lambs and destroying all the crops. Last summer there was a partial hailstorm near London, which broke thirty thousand panes of glass in the green-houses of one nursery-ground.â€
I am sorry to add, mamma, that every body says it is going to thaw; and there will be an end of all the amusement I have had to-day in looking at the beautiful feathery flakes as they blew against the windows.
20th.—After dinner this gloomy evening, we had another edition of our story-play. Though very much amused by all I heard, I will only mention two or three little circumstances which may perhaps be interesting to you or Marianne.
The word telescope was whispered to my aunt; and in the course of her story she contrived to introduced the tube through which Prince Ali,in the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments, saw his distant friends. She said, she had very little doubt that this must have alluded to some optical instrument, and even that the carpet by which Prince Houssain transported himself through the air was of the nature of a balloon. Both these inventions are generally ascribed to the moderns, but she thinks they must have been formerly known in the East, where, indeed, all knowledge seems to have begun.
Mr. Lumley was so good as to join our circle; and having been given the word elephant, he mentioned a laughable anecdote of a man who took hold of an elephant’s tail lately in the streets of London. The animal was so displeased by this indignity, that he turned suddenly round, and grasping the man with his trunk, placed him against the iron rails where he kept him prisoner for some time. The keeper at last prevailed on the elephant to let the offender go, but not till after he had received some hard squeezes, for which he complained to a magistrate, who of course gave him no redress, as he was the first aggressor.
Mr. L. also told us that a friend of his in India, when riding on an elephant through a rice field, observed that the sagacious creature plucked a considerable quantity of the ears and carried them behind his trunk till the party stopped, when he ate them at leisure.
21st.—The expected thaw arrived—yesterday was odious, half snow, half rain, and everything dirty and dreary. My uncle and Frederick went this afternoon to the poor man’s garden, where you know we saw the carrots raised up by the little icy pillars; but this thaw has made the roads so wet, that I could not possibly go with them.
Frederick tells me that all the fairy colonnades which supported the earth about the carrots are now melted, the earth has fallen down, and the tops of the roots are to be seen, quite bare, but above the ground, and appearing as if they had been half pulled up by hand.
I asked my uncle if frost pushes up any other kind of root in that way,—and he said that these columns have a quite different effect on fibrous roots, particularly the grasses. In consequence of the strong matting together of their roots, a whole piece of sward between two cracks is sometimes lifted up by these pillars, so as to separate it from the earth underneath. When the columns dissolve, the sward sinks into its former place, and the earth, which has been loosened and minutely divided by the frozen columns, affords a fine bed for the roots to strike into, so that it is rather an advantage than an injury to them to have been thus loosened. After the frost is melted, he says, he has seen patches of the sward lifted up with nearly asmuch ease as if they had been separated by a parting-spade.
Frederick asked what effect frost had upon soils which are not spongy.
My uncle told us that in clay soils the water forms small detached crystals, so thickly interspersed through the whole mass, that when a clod is broken, the fractured part looks as if covered by hoar frost; but they are too small for the naked eye to distinguish their shape. They help, however, to divide and loosen the clay in those stiff lumps; and after a frost the blow of a spade will almost reduce them into powder. Farmers sometimes, in expectation of this effect of frost, sow their wheat in very rough ground in autumn, in order that the clods, being pulverised by it, may close round the roots of the young plants; and these benefit by it as drilled corn does bylanding—that is, having the earth laid up by the plough against the little seedlings when they have grown to some height. In mild winters farmers are disappointed in this; but my uncle says it is but a lazy mode of farming, and deserves to be disappointed.
Do you know, mamma, that I think it is colder and more uncomfortable than during the frost. The birds, however, seem to be rejoiced: I hear them chirping their satisfaction—and all the robins that we had in the house (we had seven at one time) have left their good shelter, and flownoff to their companions, by whom I hear they are not likely to be welcomed: I suppose they are despised for not bearing the hardships of the season as well as the others.
22nd, Sunday.—My uncle read the Ten Commandments to us to-day, and afterwards addressed us on the subject; and though I know that I cannot do justice to all he said, I will try and note down a little of it.
“‘And God spake all these words.’ The Hebrews emphatically called these commandments the ‘Ten words;’ and the same term having been adopted in Greek, they have obtained the name ofDecaloguein every modern language. Though all mankind were bound to obey the precepts contained in these important laws, yet, as they were more especially addressed to the Israelites, the tables on which they were engraven were preserved in the ark with great solemnity, and were distinguished from the rest of God’s ordinances by a peculiar veneration, as containing the covenant of the Lord. The Mosaic dispensation is at an end, but these commandments continue in full force; for we find that our Saviour and his apostles quoted them as matter of perpetual obligation to Christians; who are now, as the Jews were formerly, ‘the Israel of God.’
“In order to understand their full extent, it is necessary, my dear children, that youshouldstudythem attentively: for though they are contained in a few brief precepts, they really comprehend a complete code of morality. You must consider that there is much more implied than is expressly ordained; and that each commandment is to be understood as a concise text, reminding mankind of the whole sum of their duty on that particular head. For instance, when any one sin is forbidden, it is evident that every offence of the same nature, though of a lower degree, is also forbidden; and that as we well know how easily we are seduced step by step, so we are bound to abstain from every indulgence which may act as a temptation to violate the principle of that law. We are not to be contented with a cold and literal obedience to this divine code. Whatever virtues are enjoined to us, it is equally our duty to induce others to practise them; whatever is prohibited, becomes a double crime in us if we tempt others to commit it; and observe, that for this enlarged sense in which we are to view these commandments, we have the direct authority of our Saviour.
“The introduction to the commandments states the grounds on which God required the obedience and adoration of the Jews; 1st, that he was the Lord their God; and 2dly, that he had triumphantly delivered them from Egyptian bondage.And let it be ever impressed on your minds that these reasons apply to us Christians, no less than they did to the Jews; for He is the LordourGod by a more excellent covenant than he was theirs. He has relieved us from that slavery, of which the Egyptian bondage was but a type; and instead of the land of Canaan, he has prepared for us an inheritance in heaven.
“The first and second commandments, in which we are forbidden, under a dreadful penalty, to swerve from the worship of the one true God, or to kneel to any created being, seem to have been framed in allusion to the gross idolatry of Egypt, where all manner of living creatures were adored; and this allusion must have strongly reminded the Israelites of the want of power in those mock deities, who could neither prevent the plagues which they had just witnessed, nor could they enable Pharaoh, though backed by a mighty army, to detain them in that country.â€
My uncle then went through all the other commandments, and said a great deal to us about the divine institution of the Sabbath; but when he came to the tenth, “This,†said he, “stamps the seal of divinity upon the whole Mosaic code, of which the Decalogue is the summary. No such restrictions are to be found in the laws of the most famous heathen legislators; neither Lycurgus, nor Solon, nor Justinian, interfere with the desires of the heart; they knew that human thoughts are not cognizable by human tribunals; but it was a command which naturally came from Him who both can and will ‘bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good or whether it be evil.’ How finely,†continued my uncle, “has our Saviour commented on this commandment, in his Sermon on the Mount! It is not the mere outward observance of the law that he inculcates, but the inward principle of obedience; it is the word of the law written in our hearts.â€
23rd.—The circumstance that Caroline told us lately, of the children on the desert island, in the Mississippi, naturally led to some conversation about that prodigious river, and the countries through which it flows.
We looked at its course to-day, in my uncle’s large maps of North America. He shewed us an account of it in Morse’s Geography, and he made us observe, that taking in all its windings, it is upwards of a thousand leagues in length; that it passes over twenty degrees of latitude; and, after joining with the Missouri, and receiving a multitude of smaller streams, though many of them are navigable for hundreds of miles, it pours its united waters into the Gulf of Mexico.
It is evident, he says, that the country through which it runs, was formerly inhabited by a more intelligent race than the natives now appear to be; for large mounds of earth are frequently met with near the banks of the river, within which are found the remains of pottery and other articles of a superior kind to those now in use amongst the Indians, who are in a very low state of civilization, and but thinly spread over that immense valley.
The Mississippi rises, as he shewed us, in a region of lakes and swamps, which are scattered over a table-land extending from that great ridge called the Rocky Mountains, nearly to Lake Superior, between the 48th and 49th parallel of latitude. In the first division of its course, it passes slowly and smoothly throughsavannahs, or low plains, covered with wild rice, rushes, and other aquatic plants, the rank growth of which is so great, that travellers say, that as they sat in their canoes, the adjoining forests were completely hid from their view by the lofty fields of waving grass.
In the second division, begins the granite country, with forests of elm, oak, and other lofty trees. Then come the dryprairies, which are the great resort of the buffalo and deer; and in which sycamore and black walnut begin to appear.
In the third division, which extends above 800 miles, the river increases vastly in breadth; flows through lime-stone rocks, and receives several tributary rivers, by some of which, boats may communicate, with short interruptions, between the Gulfs of St. Lawrence and Mexico.
Lastly begins the extensive tract of land, known by the name of theGreat Swamp, or, as it is sometimes called, the Dismal Swamp.—Scarcely a tree or bush is to be seen for 300 miles, except the deciduous cypress, which gives a peculiar and gloomy aspect to this unhealthy region; and, to add to its horrors, it is subject to frequent earthquakes. Lower down, the banks of the river consist of clay, sand, and gravel; almost every flood undermines some parts of them, which fall in, and carry away whole fields and plantations into the stream.—From a place called Baton Rouge, which is about 140 miles above New Orleans, to the sea, they are scarcely elevated above the level of the river, and would be overflowed during the floods, but for artificial embankments, calledlevées, by which the long narrow line of plantations is defended. All beyond these embankments, is one vast level, swampy surface, covered with reeds and rushes, and totally destitute of trees. The inundations aresaid to have sometimes risen to the height of fifty or sixty feet.
The breaking down of a levée, with the tremendous rush of such a body of water, brings certain destruction on the neighbouring plantations. At those times, the whole surface beyond the sloping banks appears, for thousands of square miles, as one vast ocean; and only four or five years since, upwards of three hundred plantations were overwhelmed with water, and their crops totally destroyed. Very strict regulations have, therefore, been established for the prevention of this misfortune.