Chapter 3

“Venice sits in state, throned on her hundred isles!”

But now it has a most melancholy appearance: the port, which in times of prosperity was crowded with shipping, is now almost empty; and the muddy canals which intersect the town in every direction, are no longer enlivened by multitudes of gondolas gliding swiftly through the water. The showy palaces which rise from the sides of these watery streets, were once adorned with all that painting and sculpture could perform; but they are nowneglected, moss-grown, the habitations of owls and bats, and fast sinking to decay: and many of the great families who had inherited their wealth and honours in direct succession for a thousand years, are now obliged to part with their splendid mansions, or to see them gradually crumbling into ruins, from the want of means to repair them.

Notwithstanding all this, Mr. Maude says that Venice is still a magnificent looking place; and amongst its many beautiful buildings, he describes the cathedral as being most venerable and interesting. It was built so long ago as the ninth century, and enriched with the spoils of Greece and of Constantinople. He once went through the city at night, to see the effect of moonlight on its superb buildings; but the few of them which were still dazzling with lamps, as if enjoying their former glory, made such a contrast with the pale light and dark shade of the moon, and with the general stillness, that the whole scene had even a more deserted appearance than in the day-time. Now and then the gloomy silence was interrupted by the sounds of the harp or guitar, or by the wild and plaintive airs of a few gondoliers, as they kept time to the gentle splashing of their oars.

Mr. Maude, she says, added a great deal about the present government, the state of society, and the remaining commerce of Venice;and my uncle, who was much pleased with his observations, remarked that few of the changes recorded in history, offered a subject of deeper interest, than the long-continued grandeur and present fall of Venice. “It rose,” he said, “as it were, from the waves, when, on the invasion of Italy by the Huns, numbers of people took refuge in that cluster of islands where the city now stands. So early as the year 421, they formed a little state, strong enough to oppose the invaders, or at least to secure themselves from molestation. Commerce soon followed security; and from this small beginning arose that wealth and power which continued for many centuries, and which extended the influence of Venice over all the states with which she was connected. Her foundations were laid in the darkest ages of Italian misery; but she soon became the spectator of the dissolution of the Roman Empire. She witnessed the ravages of many continental wars, and the rise and fall of many nations; till at length she fell in her turn also. Somebody has well remarked, that she was the last surviving witness of antiquity, the common link between the two periods of civilization.

“Her whole history,” continued my uncle, “has a paradoxical and peculiar character. Her romantic achievements in the East; the noble lead she took in the struggles of Christendomwith the empire of the Turks; and the heroic defence she made against the attacks of numerous enemies, place her resources and power in singular contrast with the smallness of her territory. On the other hand, her selfish policy; her imperious conduct wherever her influence extended; and her deadly jealousy of the neighbouring republic of Genoa, rendered her the object of universal envy and hatred. While at home the rigorous despotism of her government, which was ill concealed under the mask of republican freedom, and the inquisitorial tyranny of the senate, which silently pervaded every house, and controlled almost the thoughts of every individual, could tend only to alienate her subjects. These are points of deep moral and historical interest; but it may be safely said that her government outlived the age to which it was suited; no timely reform adapted it to the growing changes in the public mind—no concessions to the people united them in common cause with their haughty masters—and the fall of Venice may be ascribed more to her internal vices, than to the overpowering armies of France.”

5th.—I have been so much better all day that I was allowed to go down to tea; and had the pleasure of hearing Mr. Maude describe thefruitiéresin Switzerland. I quite misunderstood that word at first; for I find that it means a kind of dairy, something like that described to us by our Savoyard friends last winter. The person by whom the fruitiére is managed receives their milk daily from all the neighbouring peasants; he sells the cream, and butter, and makes the cheese; and at the end of the season pays the contributors either in cheeses or money. He keeps an exact account, not only of the quantity of milk brought in, but to prevent fraud, such as mixing it with water, he ascertains its quality by a kind of hydrometer, or floating gauge. Persons detected in cheating are struck out of the book, and lose what they had already contributed. The fruitiére man who manages the business and keeps the accounts, is paid by a small per centage on each cheese.

This plan is chiefly adopted in those parts of the country where the cattle are taken in summer to pasture in the mountains; the farmers confide their cows to a man who lives in a chalet, such as Madeleine mentioned, and spends night and day in milking the cows, and in making and turning the cheeses.

The same practice has been introduced into Piedmont and Lombardy. All the dairies in which the Parmesan cheeses are made, are supplied in this manner. The meadows of Lombardy, in the vicinity of the Po, are the most fertile in the world: being constantly watered,they produce three or four crops of hay in the season; but as they are occupied by a great number of individuals, there are few who can support a dairy, because the making cheeses requires a large quantity of milk, the produce of at least fifty cows. To effect this the Lombards have formed societies in order to make their cheese in common; and twice a-day the milk is sent to the principal house, where the dairy-man keeps an account of each person’s share.

This subject reminds me that my aunt has had a satisfactory letter from Bertram and Madeleine. He is much improved in strength. She appears to be very happy, and the little girl is going on well.

7th, Sunday.—Wentworth has been so much interested by the character of Moses, and by the explanations my uncle has occasionally given of his prophecies, that during the last week he prepared a long string of questions for this morning. His father was pleased by this eagerness to obtain information, and answered them all most kindly and fully. I need not repeat the questions, I shall only tell you the general substance of the answers; and you, dear mamma, who are so well acquainted with the subject will easily trace my omissions.

The prophecies of Moses may be consideredin some measure as supplemental to those of Jacob and Balaam. He enters into many details of the perverseness and the corruptions of the Israelites, and the consequent calamities of famine, pestilence, and war, which should afflict them under the government of their kings. He states them almost with the simplicity of an historical narrative; while all other prophecies, except those of our Lord, are expressed in more poetical, and in far more obscure language.

The 28th chapter of Deuteronomy contains several passages which are plainly indicative of the captivity of the ten tribes by the Assyrians, and of the two remaining tribes of Judah and Benjamin, by the Babylonians. In examining the books of Kings and Chronicles, we find that most part of those predicted judgments were fulfilled in the order he foretold; as in the dearths that took place, the plagues that carried off numbers of the people, and the repeated invasions of the country by the Moabites and Philistines, and afterwards by the Ammonites, Chaldees, and Syrians. The captivity of Jehoiachin by the Babylonians was a striking accomplishment of the prophetic threat in the 36th verse. “The Lord shall bring thee and thy king which thou shalt set over thee, unto a nation which neither thou nor thy fathers have known:” for it was delivered long anterior to the establishment of any king. The conclusionof that verse, “and there thou shalt serve other gods, wood and stone,” was also precisely fulfilled, as the people were compelled by their cruel conqueror to worship his idols.

The circumstantial prophecy contained in the last twenty verses of that chapter, was fulfilled most literally by the invasion of the Romans, the destruction of Jerusalem, and the complete dispersion of the Jews. The Romans were described in it with characteristic precision eight hundred years before they existed as a nation. It is said that they were to come “from far, from the end of the earth:” now the western parts of Europe were at that time the limits of the known world; and it is remarkable that the armies of Titus and Adrian were principally composed of Gauls and Spaniards. The rapidity of the Roman marches is compared by the prophet to the flight of the “eagle,” and it is not too much to suppose, that in that expression he alludes also to the eagles which were the Roman ensigns. Their language was not to be understood by the Jews; and the “fierce countenance,” for which the Romans were distinguished from the earliest periods of the republic, is noticed, as well as the merciless ferocity of their conduct.

The horrors of the siege of Jerusalem are next foretold with dreadful exactness; as well as the miseries the people were to endure in their subsequent dispersion. “The Lord shall scatter thee among all people, from the one end of the earth even unto the other; ... and among these nations thou shalt find no ease, neither shall the sole of thy foot have rest.” “Observe now,” said my uncle, “the fulfilment of that prophecy. Since their calamitous expulsion, the Jews have wandered over the face of the globe for one thousand seven hundred years, without national possessions, government, or laws. Their riches have exposed them to plunder, and their poverty to contempt. Driven from place to place, they have been persecuted even in Christian countries with unrelenting cruelty; they seem to have lost their rank in the creation, and have been made to feel the ‘trembling heart,’ ‘the sorrow of mind,’ and the uncertainty of their lives, of which their great prophet so emphatically warned them.

“Yet, notwithstanding their sufferings, they have been preserved a distinct people through all the changes of nations; for the same prophet said, they should ‘only be oppressed and crushed;’ not exterminated and rooted out like the Canaanites. They have adhered to their religion and retained the sacred language of the Scriptures; they appear to have been preserved for ‘a sign,’ and for ‘a wonder;’ and they may be said to be the depositaries of the prophecies, the continued accomplishment ofwhich is really a standing miracle of the most extraordinary and convincing nature.”

I am ashamed, dear mamma, of the slight sketch I have given of what my uncle said at great length in answer to Wentworth; but, though I have done him very little justice, it has all made a deep impression on my mind, and I am going to read a book he has lent me on the comparison of the prophecies with profane history.

8th.—At last I have escaped from confinement, and am enjoying the delight of fresh air. Everything looks gay; the sweet flowers, the bright green shrubs, the butterflies flitting about in the sun-beams, and, above all, the unceasing singing of the birds. Oh, mamma, how can you bear to live where you hear so few warbling birds?

The change that one short week has produced in my garden is quite magical; it is really a sheet of flowers; and I found there a new proof of the goodnature of my cousins, for they had pulled up every weed that disfigured it while I was confined to the house.

In my aunt’s garden there is a tree of the Yulan Magnolia just opening its large tulip-shaped blossoms, which are so fragrant, and of so pure a white. It is nearly twenty feet high,and it is so hardy, that she wonders this beautiful shrub is not more common in all gardens.

What a peculiar character the hawthorn gives the hedges in this country! It is calledMay, and indeed it is so pretty, that I think it deserves that honour.

“For thee, sweet month, the groves green liveries wear,If not the first, the fairest of the year.For thee the Graces lead the dancing Hours,And Nature’s ready pencil paints the flowers.”

I have been examining with my aunt the tendrils of the sweet pea; they are so generally found just in the right places for attaching themselves to some convenient support, that one would almost imagine they knew exactly where to put out; but she pointed out some that were idle and useless. She then shewed me the beautiful arrangement of nature by which the honeysuckle supports itself: when a straight shoot becomes long and weak, it curls into a spiral figure which gives it great additional strength, even if alone, and enables it to take a firm grasp of any twig that it meets. But if two or more shoots should touch, they immediately twine or screw themselves round each other, like the strands of a rope, for mutual support.

Another fact my aunt told me on this subject is, that the claspers of briony always shoot forward in a spiral, in search of support; but ifthey meet with nothing, after completing a spiral of about three turns, they alter their course, and proceed in some other direction.

9th.—Caroline and I had a nice walk this morning with my uncle, and I hasten to write down the additional facts that we learned from him on the subject of fossil remains.

Shells, he told us, are generally found entire, and the skeletons of fishes are frequently discovered in such a perfect state, that both their families and species can be easily ascertained. But the fossil remains of quadrupeds are very rarely complete; some of the parts are wanting; the bones are either scattered at a distance from each other, or else lying confused together, and generally broken. Yet these misplaced fragments are the only means left for naturalists to determine the species of the animal to which they had belonged; and in frequent cases a single bone has been sufficient for that purpose. This is effected by the science ofComparative Anatomy, or, in other words, a comparison of the construction and the functions of the corresponding parts of the inferior animals, with those which belong to the human body; and perhaps no science furnishes more instances of ingenious observation and beautiful reasoning.

Every organized being forms an entire systemof its own; all its parts have a mutual relation to each other; and each of them, taken separately, will, therefore, clearly point out the other parts to which it must have belonged. Suppose a ploughman turns up in a field a few bones, the only conclusion he can draw is, that some unknown animal had died near that spot; but the comparative anatomist can tell the size of the whole animal, its general form, the structure of its jaws and teeth, and, consequently, whether it belonged to the herbivorous or carnivorous tribes. None of these separate parts can vary their forms without a corresponding variation in the other parts of the animal; and, consequently, each of those parts, taken separately, indicates all the others to which it had belonged.

If the stomach of an animal is organized so as to digest only flesh, then the jaws and the incisive teeth must be constructed for devouring flesh; the claws for seizing the prey; and the entire system of the limbs for pursuing and catching it. Every one of those organs is indispensable in the structure of carnivorous animals; so that by the bones of the paw, or the arm, or the shoulder-blade, or the leg, the construction and disposition of all the rest may be determined; and, consequently, the whole form, species, genus, and class of animal must necessarily be discovered by the examination of a single bone.

The hoofed animals, it is plain, must be herbivorous, because they are possessed of no means of seizing their prey; it is also evident that their fore-legs, being only necessary to support their bodies and to assist their progressive movement, they have no occasion for any rotary motion in that joint that corresponds to the human wrist; and their food being herbaceous, their teeth must have flat surfaces; but at the same time, in order to bruise seeds and tough plants, the teeth are composed of alternate layers of hard enamel and soft bone; and a horizontal or grinding motion is given to the lower jaw, which for that purpose has a peculiar conformation of its joint. Again, we know that ruminating animals alone are provided with cloven hoofs, so that, from a simple foot-mark we can be perfectly certain that the animal possessed such and such teeth, jaws, legs, shoulders and horns; and that it fed on herbage.

The same laws and the same modes of reasoning, of course, equally apply to petrified bones; and in this manner seventy-eight different fossil quadrupeds have been ascertained and classed, of which forty-nine are of extinct species. It is remarkable, that oviparous quadrupeds are generally found in more ancient strata than the viviparous tribes. A few bones of marine animals, such as seals, are found in the shell limestone which immediately covers the chalk strata, but no bones of land quadrupeds have been discovered in that formation; they generally occupy the ancient alluvial beds composed of sand and pebbles which lie over the limestone.

Some species, which though now extinct, belonged to families that still exist, have been found among the remains of the more ancient and unknown genera; but none of the animals which at present inhabit the earth are ever found, except on the sides of rivers, or at the bottom of marshes, or in the superficial formations; and though their deposition has been comparatively recent, their remains are always the worst preserved.

10th.—The plants which I placed in baskets in the pond have flourished so greatly, that I want to try the same plan with other plants of the same nature: my uncle laughs at me, and says I would put the whole contents of the conservatory into my pond; but indeed I only want to try a crinum, a pancratium, and one or two others. However, I shall confine my wishes now to an agapanthus, or African lily, because my aunt thinks that we shall be in Ireland at the flowering time of the others, and that I should not witness the success of my experiment. I have re-potted the agapanthus in a rich sandy compost, but I have only put the fibrous partinto the earth: the whole of the tuber remains above ground. This is to be plunged to the rim in the pond, and the gardener has directions to watch its progress, if I should not be here.

Mary has had some plants of the lobelia fulgens in the conservatory for some time; they were planted in good strong loam, and the pots stand in saucers continually supplied with water; they have already grown amazingly, and will, I am sure, be five feet high before the flowers are out. But alas! we shall be away from this dear place when they blossom.

11th.—I had some confused idea that the great fossil animal, which is called the mastodon, was the same as the mammoth; but my uncle told me to-day, that though the remains of the mastodon have some general resemblance to the elephant, yet there is no doubt that they were quite distinct animals. The bones of the mastodon have been found in great numbers both in North and South America, but no complete skeletons have yet been put together. A small species of this animal has been discovered in Saxony, as well as in some other parts of Europe; and naturalists now divide the whole family into five species. The principal points of difference are not only the disposition and shape of the grinding-teeth, but the bulk of the animal; for the great mastodons that have been found on thebanks of the Ohio must have stood twelve feet high.

My uncle had before told me that the term mammoth came from Russia; it is said to be of Tartar origin, derived frommama, which signifies the earth; for the Siberians believe that elephants of that description still live under ground. He says that their tusks are found in such abundance in Eastern Siberia and in the Arctic marshes, that almost the whole of the ivory-turner’s work in Russia is made from Siberian fossil ivory, and that it is not at all inferior in quality to the living ivory of Africa and Asia. Although for a long series of years thousands have been annually procured from the banks of the rivers and from the shores of the Frozen Sea, yet they are still collected in abundance. The best fossil ivory is found in the countries within the arctic circle, where the ground is thawed at the surface only during their very short summer.

The remains of two other huge animals have also been discovered in America, the megatherium, about the size of the rhinoceros; and the megalonix, which was something smaller. From the construction of their teeth they were both herbivorous, and M. Cuvier supposes their prodigious claws to have been employed in digging up roots. They appear to be different species of the same family; and, though related to the sloth genus, they are, like the mammoth andmastodon, entirely extinct. I asked him how he knew that they were extinct, and he told me it was quite impossible that they could still inhabit the interior of America without its being known to the European settlers on the sea coasts; some of them, in the course of time, must have strayed out of the forests, and have been observed by travellers; or, in our constant intercourse with the natives, who have traversed the country in all directions, some accounts of such large animals must have reached us. In South America the Indians point out these large fossil bones as the remains of gigantic monsters, which would have destroyed the whole human race if they had not been themselves destroyed by the interference of the Great Spirit. Nor is it likely, continued my uncle, that any of the other animals, which we know to be extinct now, should have existed since the deluge: no great catastrophe since that time has happened, which could have been equal to the sweeping away of a whole species; and almost all those that at present inhabit the three continents of the old world are mentioned in the writings of Aristotle, or of other ancient authors. The Romans had such a passion for collecting wild beasts, that in the time of Commodus twenty lions, twenty African hyenas, and ten tygers, were killed in one day’s sport at Rome; and thirty-two elephants, a hippopotamus, and ten camelopards were exhibitedthere at the same time. To such industrious hunters and showmen there could have been few species unknown.

My uncle mentioned a curious circumstance, which, he says, has not been much noticed: that none of the extraordinary animals which inhabit “New Holland’s continental isle” have ever been found among the fossil remains in any other part of the globe; and of the fossil strata there, very little is yet known.

I asked him if there was any foundation for the chimæra, and the other imaginary monsters of the ancients. “Those ideal creatures,” he replied, “may be partly referred to the marvellous traditions that accompany the early records of all nations; and partly to the habit, which was so prevalent in those times, of describing real objects as well as passions and events by means of metaphor and allegory. It would be childish to expect that we should now find in any part of the globe remains of such animals as the flying pegasus, or as the sphynx of Thebes; but we must not reject as altogether fabulous those which appear in the hieroglyphics of Egypt and Persepolis. The rude sculpture of those ages has perhaps been the common source of many mistakes; for the most simple and natural method of drawing any animal is by its profile; and in this way, the oryx and the unicorn may appear to have had but a single horn—although the bas relief or outline might have been intended to represent the antelope or some other creature with two horns.”

12th.—There were so many changes from brightness to cloudiness this morning, that as my uncle rose from the breakfast-table, he repeated these lines so descriptive of those rapid alternations.

“With every shifting gleam of morning lightThe colours shifted of her rainbow vest.”

I asked him where those lines were to be found.

“Is it possible,” said he, “that you have never read the ‘Tears of old May-day!’ Well then, Caroline will, I am sure, be so kind as to shew it to you; and I think you had better celebrate this famous day, by writing an explanation of this beautiful poem, now so little read.

“You may explain it if you can, in the style of ‘Readings on Poetry;’ a very favourite book, you know, in this house. If any of the mythological allusions are not quite obvious, I will endeavour to explain them; and I will now only premise that the poem proceeds on the Eastern idea, that the year begins in May:

‘For ever then I led the constant year’

is therefore quite in character for

‘The flow’ry May, who from her green lap throwsThe yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.’”

This was a terrific task, and occupied me great part of the morning. At last, when it was finished, I came to the hall to refresh myself with my cousins at a new play, calledLa Grace, or theFlying Circle, which we have lately imported, and the description of which will probably divert Marianne more than any learned dissertation of mine on the “Tears of old May-day.”

Two people stand at opposite ends of the room, as in playing shuttlecock; each hold two nicely turned sticks, one end of which is pointed; and by a dextrous movement of these pointers, a light, elastic hoop, about eight inches diameter, is sent flying forward towards the person opposite, who catches it on her pointers, and immediately lets it fly back again. When played with two hoops it is still prettier, and requires much more expertness than shuttlecock.

Mary and I had played at it successfully for some time, when we were interrupted by poor little Grace, who, looking very sad, ran into the hall, put her pencil-case into Mary’s hand and vanished, brushing away a large tear from her cheek.

Mary followed her, and afterwards told me that she had given Grace a silver pencil-case some months since, on condition that she never would again scribble in books; a habit which she had unaccountably acquired. Grace delighted to have her long-wished for pencil-case, agreed tothe compact, and punctually kept it till this unfortunate day. The moment that she recollected herself, she came to return the pencil to Mary, with true honesty indeed, for she had only scribbled in one of her own little books, which might never have been observed. Though sorry that she should thoughtlessly have broken her engagement, yet all were pleased at finding that she had that fine principle of honour which disdains deceit. My aunt has certainly contrived to fix steady good principles in the hearts of my cousins, which really influence their conduct. Instead of having to watch them, she places the most perfect reliance on their integrity; and most justly, for I, who see them at all times, know that they have not mere show-sentiments or show-manners; but that they are just the same when not observed by their mother as when in her presence.

13th.—I believe I noted in my journal that I had been practising the art ofbudding. As soon as I had acquired a little expertness, I tried my hand on various roses just as the leaf-buds began to swell, having seen, in the “Transactions of the Horticultural Society,” that period recommended as the best for roses. The April showers were of great use, and most of my buds have now become nice flourishing shoots. Yellow roses are said to thrive particularly well when budded on the China rose, and I hopemine may not be attacked by those troublesome little green caterpillars that ate away the heart of the buds on Mary’s yellow rose last year. She kept one of them, which changed into a small brown chrysalis, and this morning it has become a very pretty buff moth, marked all over in brown patten work: it is small, but the antennæ are as long as the whole moth, circular, and bowed towards its nose like cow’s horns.

I have also several young rosegraftsof different species growing on the wild rose—

“Of simpler bloom, but kindred race,The pensive Eglantine——.”

Mr. Biggs asserted that this process would improve their colours. I thought it rather extraordinary that the “simpler bloom” of the wild rose should have that effect; but my uncle said, “Try the experiment first, and reason about it afterwards.”

When I showed these budded roses to Miss Perceval, I expressed my surprise that amongst the numerous South American plants which have been collected in this country, I had not heard of any new species of rose.

“Are there any native roses in South America?” she asked.

“Oh! of course,” said I, “in such a flowery country. You know there is an island in the Rio de la Plata called the Isle of Flores, which I suppose is covered with flowers.”

“Can you describe any of your indigenous Brazilian roses?” said she, laughing.

After considering some time I was obliged to acknowledge that I could not recollect any one that I knew to be a native of Brazil.

“This is one of the numerous instances oftaking for grantedwhich we meet every day,” said she. “You imagined that the rose must be wild in all parts of the world because it is everywhere cultivated:—you will therefore learn with surprise, that it is generally believed that all the roses yet known have been found between the 19th and 70th degrees of North latitude; none, therefore, belong to South America, though the profusion of China roses, cultivated in Brazil, might very naturally have given you the idea of their being natives. It is possible, however, that hereafter new species may be discovered south of the line, which will come under the head Rosaceæ, for the industry of botanists has wonderfully increased this family in a few years. In Wildenow’s book, published in 1800, he enumerates only thirty-nine species, yet there are upwards of one hundred now known and cultivated in this country; and a foreign professor has given a list of even two hundred and forty species. He proposes to divide them into twenty-four series, each of which is to bear the name of some botanist who has distinguished himself by a knowledge of that beautiful genus. For instance, Rosa Candolliana,—Wildenowiana,—Pallasiana, and so on.”

She told me also that all the apple and pear tribes are placed in the natural order of Rosaceæ; in the rose, the calyx, which is pitcher-shaped, encloses the germ; and in the former the germ is beneath the calyx. She mentioned, too, as a curious circumstance of the dog-rose or eglantine, that the farther North it is found, the more woolly are the styles, while to the Southward, as in Madeira, they have no hairs whatever.

The rose seems to be prized particularly in Persia, where it is the chief ornament of the garden. In that very entertaining book “Sketches of Persia,” the author mentions a breakfast which was given to him at a beautiful spot in the vicinity of Shiraz:—

“We were surprised and delighted to find that we were to enjoy this meal on a stack of roses! On this a carpet was laid, and we sat cross-legged like the natives. The stack, which was as large as a common one of hay in England, had been formed without much trouble, from the heaps or cocks of rose leaves, collected before they were sent into the city to be distilled.”

In Foster’s travels, too, Mary shewed me a description of the city of Kashmire, where the houses though slightly built, have flat roofs of sufficient strength to support a covering of earth; this is planted with roses and otherflowers, and gives the town a very beautiful appearance. The earth also preserves the houses from being chilled by the quantity of snow that lies on them in winter; and in summer it gives them a refreshing coolness. Every creature he met had roses in their hands; and you may recollect, mamma, that the same thing is said of the city of Bisnagar in the Arabian Night’s tales. The province of Kashmire, Foster says, has been always famous for roses, particularly for one extremely fragrant species, of which the best attar of rose is made; but it will not grow in a more southerly climate.

He mentions a lake, near the city, in which there were several islands covered with rose-trees; they were all in brilliant blossom when he was there, and looked like large baskets of roses. How pretty the floating Chinampas of Mexico would be if they were planted with the Kashmire rose; or, what would suit them better, with the little rose of Jericho. Miss P. says this is one of the most singular plants in the world, and is found no where but in the deserts of Arabia. It is only six inches high, root and all; and its tiny branches curve inward, so as to enclose its numerous flowers in a sort of hollow globe. I think this may be truly called a Lilliputian tree.

14th, Sunday.—The thirty-second chapter ofDeuteronomy, or the song of Moses, was the subject of our conversation this morning. My uncle told us that it consists of six parts.

“It opens in the first five verses with a summons to the whole universe to listen to the inspired voice of the prophet; and contrasts the power, truth, and justice of God with the iniquities of the ‘perverse generation’ whom he was addressing. In the next nine verses he expatiates on God’s continued indulgence and more than fatherly affection towards the Israelites; he makes an affecting appeal to their gratitude; and he dwells on the unceasing protection they had experienced from their first helpless origin, up to their entrance into the rich land of promise, in a manner which shows that Moses spoke from a full recollection of the scenes he had witnessed, and that he deeply felt the extent of the almighty power and goodness.

“In the expression ‘When the most High divided to the nations their inheritance,’ we are to understand the tribes of Israel; each of which, from their extraordinary increase of population, might be considered as a nation in itself, while the whole composed ‘His people,’ the most highly favoured of all the nations of the earth.”

I begged of my uncle to explain what was meant in the 13th verse by “He made themride on the high places of the earth;” and afterwards by “sucking honey and oil out of the flinty rock?” He answered, “The former phrase applies to the victories which the Israelites had already achieved through the divine assistance, as well as to the final conquest of the land of Canaan by the same means. The honey and oil are allusions to the fruitfulness of the country, which abounds with wild bees, who build their honeycombs in the rocks; and with the finest olive trees, which it is well known strike their roots into the rocky crevices.

“The third part of the song,” he continued, “begins with the fifteenth verse, and describes the usual effect of prosperity upon a thoughtless and ungrateful people. ‘But Jeshurun waxed fat and kicked.’ This figure of speech is probably taken from a pampered horse, who becomes unmanageable and vicious; and you will find it repeated in Hosea[4]. ‘According to their pasture they were filled, and their heart was exalted; therefore they have forgotten me.’ Jeshurun is derived from a word signifying upright, and is put here, as well as in Isaiah, for Israel. It would not be very difficult to apply the whole of this passage to more modern nations, who have far less excuse than even the Israelites for ‘forsaking God, and lightly esteeming the rock of their salvation;’ but, asindividuals, at least, we may take a useful lesson from it; let us beware of the seductions of prosperity, lest our hearts become too much engrossed by the happiness that we enjoy, or too much depressed by the salutary disappointments that we sometimes undergo.

“The fourth part, from the nineteenth verse to the end of the twenty-fifth, expresses the indignation of the Lord, and his threats of rejecting apostate Israel, and of adopting in their room the believing Gentiles. It is quoted by St. Paul, as having that interpretation; and I will only further remark, that it is written with the most awful strength that language can supply; and that all its denunciations have been literally accomplished.

“The fifth division, to the end of verse 35, states the wise and gracious reasons of the dispersion of the Jews into all lands, both for their ultimate preservation, and to prevent their enemies from vainly ascribing to themselves their destruction. It was not indeed from any merit of their own that those enemies were allowed to triumph, they were only employed as the instruments of punishment; and God declares in the sequel that they will have to answer for their own corruptions and idolatries in the day of vengeance.

“‘For their rock is not as our Rock; even our enemies themselves being judges.’ Thisremarkable passage was evidently introduced by Moses in a parenthesis. He prophetically knew that their conquerors would often have to confess the superiority of the God of Israel over their own deities; and accordingly many examples of it may be collected in Scripture. I need scarcely remind you of Nebuchadnezzar’s decree, when he perceived the three faithful Jews escaping unhurt from his fiery furnace[5]; nor of his touching acknowledgment of the one true God when he regained his reason[6]; and in profane history you no doubt recollect the declaration of the Roman emperor Titus, after the conquest of Jerusalem,—That he was only an instrument in the hand of God, whose wrath had been so signally manifested against the Jews.

“The last part of this celebrated song is called the consolation of Israel: it holds out a gracious promise of future reconciliation when they should have repented of their obstinacy, and abjured the vain idols in whom they had trusted for protection; it gives an awful warning to their oppressors, that the day of account and of vengeance for them also will come; and the words in the concluding verse, ‘Rejoice, O ye nations with his people,’ seem to have been cited by St. Paul,[7]to prove the future conversionof both Jews and Gentiles to Christ, and their mutual exultation in his then undivided kingdom.”

15th.—I seized an opportunity of asking my uncle some questions about the beds of coal in the forest of Dean, and I learned that the coal formation there, is an irregular elliptical basin, occupying nearly the whole of the forest tract. It is ten miles long, and six broad; and all the strata dip uniformly to the centre of the basin. He shewed me the extent of it on a geological map, which he has made of this county; and which marks in the prettiest manner all the principal strata. Each kind of rock has a particular colour, so that its extent is seen at a glance; and by a section at the bottom of the map, the dip or inclination of the strata, and the manner in which they lie on each other, are very distinctly shewn. He made Caroline and me observe that we could trace on it the mountain-lime and old red-sandstone (which enclose the coal-field) across the river Wye into South-Wales: there, he says, they contain another coal district, of much greater extent; and he showed it to us in Mr. Greenough’s beautiful geological map of all England. I should never have been tired of looking at these maps, if Caroline, who knew how little time my uncle could spare, hadnot asked him something about the origin of coal.

“Before I answer that question,” said he, “we must have a little discussion on the nature ofpeat; a substance which seems to be very closely allied to coal, and which, there is no doubt, has been produced by the decay and decomposition of vegetable matter. There are different kinds of peat, therefore, according to the different kinds of plants of which it is composed, and the different situations in which the process has been carried on; such as marsh, forest, and marine peat. Some extensive bogs have been caused within the memory of man, by the decay and natural fall of forests, over which thesphagnum palustreand other mosses rapidly spread; agricultural implements and various domestic utensils have been found under them; and we may therefore assume, that as peat appears to be in the act of progressive increase, it belongs to an order of causes still in action. When examined, peat appears to be an entire mass of vegetablefibres: towards the surface they are nearly in an unchanged state, but in the middle the peat becomes more compact; and at the bottom of a very deep and ancient bog, they are almost obliterated, the substance being dense and black, and having all the chemical characters of jet. In some instancesbeds of peat alternate with beds of mud or sand, which must have been deposited in the bottom of lakes, and in these cases they appear something like an incomplete coal formation.

“In a short time,” continued my uncle, “we shall have a better opportunity of studying this curious substance, if your interest in it continues, when we are in Ireland, as that island contains a greater proportion of bog than any country with which we are acquainted.”

“My interest in it, my dear uncle, I replied, is not very likely to fail while I have your kind assistance; but as we are as yet in a coal country, perhaps you will tell us something of the formation or origin of that mineral.”

“There is no possible doubt,” he said, “that the general origin of coal must be referred to the vegetable kingdom; and I began with peat, to show you how masses of vegetable matter may be collected in thick and very extensive beds, ready for whatever process nature may afterwards employ in converting them into coal. Some species of coal are merely fossil wood (or lignite) impregnated with bitumen: the branches, trunks, and roots, though closely pressed together, are scarcely altered in texture, in some places; while in others they gradually lose every vegetable feature, and the substance in colour, lustre, and fracture, resembles pitch. Of this nature is the Bovey coal of Devonshire, and the Surturbrand of Iceland; and I have some specimens of the former, in which the fibres were flexible when I took them out of the pit, though now hard and brittle. From the disposition of those Bovey lignites, which lie in alternate strata with clay and gravel, it has been reasonably inferred that the trees and vegetables of the adjacent mountains were washed down at different periods into a lake; the clay and gravel, of course, sank first to the bottom, and formed the floor; but in time the trees saturated with moisture, and pressed down by an accumulation of other trees, sank also; and were again, perhaps in succeeding ages, covered by successive depositions.

“The common, or cubical coal, as it is called from the shape into which it breaks, does not bear the same obvious marks of vegetable origin in its structure; but where one species of coal can be so clearly demonstrated to be only altered vegetable matter, it would be bad philosophy to ascribe the other species to other causes. In the prodigious beds of coal, however, in Staffordshire, there is no want of vegetable traces; and even in the Newcastle coal the impressions of leaves and branches are frequently found, as well as in the freestone and slate-clay which intervene between its numerous strata. At Kilsyth, in Scotland, a very singular specimen was discovered; a tree standing upright, with its roots resting on a bed of coal, from which they could scarcely be distinguished, and its stem passing into a stratum of sandstone rock. The lower end was completely bituminated, and it burned with a clear flame; yet the upper part, though scarcely altered in the grain or apparent texture of the wood, was converted into sandstone similar to that by which it was enclosed. Round the stem there was a space of about an inch in thickness filled with coal, which renders it probable that the same process that converted the roots into coal acted upwards on the bark. The rock contains innumerable remains of plants; some of which are so perfect that their species have been made out, and no pencil could trace their delicate ramifications with greater nicety.

“In short,” continued my uncle, “it appears more than probable that every species of coal has proceeded from vegetable matter of different kinds, but under different circumstances; and that its chemical change was effected under the pressure of deep water. In one stage of that process it must have been in a soft pulpy state, like the lowest part of a deep peat-bog; for this is the only way that I can account for the impression of leaves, canes, seed-vessels, and shells, which are so commonly found on the external surface of coal.”

My uncle shewed us a beautiful specimen of a fern leaf, where the impression was as perfect as if it had been made with wax.

He then continued, “Sir James Hall thinks that peat may have been converted into coal by heat acting under great compression; and he has actually succeeded in making a substance very like it. When I have more leisure I will describe the ingenious process which he adopted, as well as some other experiments of the same nature, by which this distinguished philosopher discovered the means of fusing limestone, of imitating volcanic lava, and of forming solid sandstone from loose sand.

“But to return to our coals: the chief difference between the various kinds of coal which are applied to economical purposes, arises from the proportion of bitumen they contain. What is calledcaking coalyields about 40 per cent.; when burning it swells, agglutinates, and emits much smoke and gas, which inflame at a certain temperature.Cannelcoal has only 20 per cent. of bitumen, and does not agglutinate or cake. It burns with a bright flame like a candle, from which circumstance it takes its name, cannel being the common pronunciation of candle in the North of England. The third sort I shall mention is calledanthraciteby mineralogists; but its common name isblindcoal, or Kilkenny coal, from a district in Ireland, where there are vast beds of it. It contains little or no bitumen; it neither cakes nor flames, and gives out very little smoke. But as there are several varieties of coal betweenthose principal species, much confusion has taken place in their names.”

16th.—When Mary and I were in the garden to-day, I observed a very odd appearance on the under surface of some of the leaves of a pear-tree; they appeared thickly set with strange little downy russet-coloured things like spines growing out of the leaf, perpendicular to it, and about a quarter of an inch in length, and very little thicker than a pin, with a protuberance or excrescence at the base.

Mary was amused at my surprise, and told me that they were the habitations of insects. She then took one of these tubes off the leaf, and on giving it a gentle squeeze, a minute caterpillar, with a yellowish body and black head, came out of the lower end; for the head is always downwards. We examined the place from which she had removed it, and I saw that there was a small hollow in the outer skin and pulpy part of the leaf, which had been eaten away by the caterpillar. It moves this little tube or tent from one part of the leaf to the other, and eats no other part than what the tent covers; and when these insects are abundant, Mary says that every leaf is covered with little withered specks, where they have feasted themselves.

The tube in which the caterpillar lives, iscomposed of silk, spun from its mouth almost as soon as it comes out of the egg, and as it increases in size it enlarges the tube, by slitting it in two, and introducing a strip of new materials. To preserve the perpendicular posture of its tent, this ingenious insect attaches several silken threads from the protuberance at the base to the surface of the leaf; but it has a still more singular device to protect the tent against any violence: it forms a vacuum in the protuberance at the base, which fastens it to the leaf as effectually as if an air-pump had been employed. This vacuum is caused by the insect’s retreating on the least alarm up the tube, which its body so completely fills that the space below is free of air, and the tube is pressed down like the exhausted receiver of an air-pump.

Mary easily convinced me of this when she seized it suddenly while the insect was at the bottom, the silken cords readily gave way, and the tube was detached by a very slight force; but when she touched it gently, giving the insect time to retreat, we found that a much stronger effort was required to loosen it. As if aware of the effect of the admission of air from below, this little philosopher carefully avoids gnawing quite through the leaf; and when he has eaten as deeply as he can venture, he cuts the cords of his tent and pitches it on a freshpart of the surface. When it has attained its perfect state, it becomes a small brown moth.

17th.-Mary has been trying a grand experiment, which has succeeded so well that mamma must have an account of it.

My uncle determined to remove a valuable jargonelle pear-tree from one wall to another. I forget his reason, but no matter; it was, however, much too late in the season, and the tree sickened, and seemed to be dying. The gardener declared it could not live; but Mary, who had read that trees in such a predicament might be saved by a gentle but continual drip of water being guided to the roots, requested my uncle to let her try the effect of this plan. He is always anxious to encourage useful experiment, and willingly consigned the tree to her prescriptions.

She took two large flower-pots, and, having carefully corked the holes, she suspended one to each end of a stick, which was fastened across the stem of the tree. A piece of cloth-listing or selvage, long enough to reach the ground, was put into each pot, with a stone tied to it to prevent its slipping out; and the other end of the listing was slit into three parts, which were slightly pegged into the ground. She then had the pots filled with water, and the wholeof the listing being wetted, each of them acted like a syphon, drawing the water up over the edge of the pot, as my uncle says by capillary action, and conducting it slowly and regularly into the ground. The moisture spread to the roots, and in three days the young leaves began to revive. The pots were filled every morning, and she changed the listing once a week, as the filaments of the cloth became clogged, and the water was not so freely transmitted. The daily improvement of the tree was very gratifying to my uncle, who enjoyed Mary’s ingenuity and success; and even the gardener has this morning pronounced it to be out of danger.

18th.—I am afraid that my dear mamma will call me a little credulous simpleton when she reads this account of the singular sagacity of a cat; but my aunt took great pains to ascertain that it was quite correct.

Dame Moreland has some remarkably fine cats, and she is in the constant habit of drowning all their progeny, except one kitten of her favourite, Mrs. Snowtip’s, which she selects with due attention to its beauty. This time, however, pussy thought proper to choose that one for herself, and carrying it from the garden into the house, she left the rest to perish. Accustomedto their being regularly taken away, she seemed to agree to that arrangement, and devoted herself to the one she had saved.

A few weeks afterwards another of the cats kittened, and its whole brood being destroyed, the poor thing became very uneasy, and suffered much from the want of her little ones to relieve her of the nourishment provided for them. On which, the fat Mrs. Snowtip being very ill-supplied herself, actually employed the poor bereaved cat as a nurse. This office she performs with proper fidelity, and the two ladies agree perfectly; for while the nurse feeds little Snowtip, the mother smooths and dresses it herself, and on any alarm flies to its protection, while the nurse seems contented with doing her own duty, and never interferes on such occasions.

19th.—I have had a good deal of work at my strawberry bank, for Mr. Biggs warned me that the beds ought never to be dug, but constantly hand-weeded; and he recommended also that the runners should be nipped off as soon as they appeared. I undertook to do all this myself; and both weeds and runners seem determined that I shall not be idle.

This strawberry bank is such a very dry soil, that I found the plants wanted water continually; and I asked my uncle to let a littlechannel be made, for the purpose of bringing to the top of the bank a small rill that runs across the back of the shrubbery. Something I had heard aboutirrigatingmeadows suggested this idea, and my uncle approved. The channel has been cut, and it brings the water on a level along the upper edge of my bank, from whence it trickles down the slope along each row of strawberry plants. When they have had enough, I put a slate edgeways across the channel, which acts as a little sluice, and turns the water aside into the pond. This method of watering has so far answered very well, for I think my strawberries look more healthy than any of the others; they are now in full flower, and I am in high hopes of having the first and best fruit to present to my uncle for his kindness.

20th.—I had a long walk yesterday evening with Miss Perceval and Mary through some of farmer Moreland’s fields, which are shut up for meadow. The grasses are opening their blossoms, and Miss Perceval taught me the names of several that I had not known. She then asked me if I could describe the leading characters of the grass family.

I considered, and hesitated, and tried; but my attempts were very awkward, and I acknowledged that trials of that sort were sometimesexceedingly useful in making us acquainted with our own ignorance. She smiled, and put the same question to Mary.

Mary said, “I will do my best, but on condition that you will tell me where I am wrong. The stem is generally smooth, and its hollow cylindrical form enables it to stand upright even when four or five feet high; it is usually jointed, which gives it additional strength; and it is terminated by the flowers, which are either tufted, or in spikes, or panicled:—the leaves are alternate, and always undivided—one of them springing from each knot, and enveloping the stem with a sheath, which is split down to the knot. All grasses have a chaffy flower inclosed in a glume or husk; and each flower has a single seed. These are all the general characters that I can recollect, which mark the tribe distinctly.”

“Very clear, indeed,” said Miss Perceval, “and quite full enough. The grasses are easily distinguishable from all other plants, except the Cyperacea; and even they shew a well-marked line of separation, as their stems are sometimes triangular, and very seldom jointed; and the sheath is always entire, not split like that of the grasses.

“The grasses are of the greatest importance,” she continued, “in the economy of nature; they form in most countries the chief covering ofthe earth; they are the principal support of terrestrial animals; and you know that the basis of all agriculture is the cultivation of plants which belong to their order.”

Miss P. easily allows herself to be drawn out, and before we reached home, we obtained the following particulars of that numerous family.

“There are about eighteen hundred species already known; and the industry of botanists is every day adding to the list: there are both land and fresh-water grasses, but no marine grass. They occur in every soil; generally in society with other grasses, but sometimes a single species will be found occupying a considerable district. Sand appears the least favourable to their growth; but even sand has species peculiar to itself. They are spread over the whole vegetable kingdom, from the equator to the polar regions; and from the sea-shores to the tops of the highest mountains, at least to the line of perpetual congelation.

“We are still in want of a perfect natural classification, by which their distribution on the globe might be made more distinct: at present, each of the ten groups into which they are arranged, contains too many, so that not one of the groups belongs exclusively to any one zone. Some, however, may be regarded as tropical, and some as chiefly inhabiting the temperate climates. The variation of the grasses in thedifferent continents is still less perceptible; there is scarcely any difference between those of North America and those of the temperate regions of the European continent. Between the two temperate zones also the distinction is inconsiderable. Of thirty-six species from the Cape, thirty occur in the northern hemisphere; while in other tribes of plants, Southern Africa has many that are peculiar to itself. I may mentionpoaas being one of the most extensively distributed genera; some of its species are found in every part of the world, from Spitsbergen to New Holland.”

“We may say then,” said Mary, “that latitude has but little influence on these plants.”

“Yes, it has a decided influence,” said Miss Perceval, “on their vegetation; the tropical grasses acquire a much greater height, and almost assume the appearance of trees. Some species of the bamboo, which you know belongs to this tribe, are fifty feet high. The leaves too are broader, and approach more in form to the leaves of the other families of plants.”

I then asked Miss P. to give me some idea of the distribution of those grasses which are cultivated.

“The cultivated grasses,” she said, “which extend farthest to the north in Europe, are barley and oats. These, which in milder climates are not generally used for bread, afford the inhabitants of Norway, Sweden, and Scotland, their chief vegetable nourishment. Rye comes next to these; it is the prevailing grain along the borders of the Baltic, and in part of Siberia. Next follows a zone including Europe and a large part of Western Asia, where rye disappears, and wheat almost exclusively furnishes bread.

“The next district extends across Barbary, Egypt, Persia, and the countries of the East, where, though wheat abounds, rice and maize are extensively cultivated; and in some of those countries the sorghum, which yields a grain resembling millet, and the poa Abyssinica, are largely used by the inhabitants. In the eastern parts of the temperate zone, including China and Japan, rice predominates over all other grains. Between the tropics, maize prevails in America, rice in Asia, and both in nearly equal quantities in Africa; probably because Asia is the native country of rice, and America of maize. The native country of wheat has not yet been ascertained, but there are few places into which it has not been introduced. Several other grains and plants that supply food, are cultivated in the torrid zone, but we cannot touch on them now, as they are not grasses.

“In the Highlands of South America, there is a distribution similar to that arising from difference of latitude. Maize is not found beyond the height of six thousand feet, from thence tonine thousand feet the European grains abound, advancing upwards in this order; wheat, then rye, and then barley. The larger esculent seeds of the grasses were named, by Linnæus, Cerealia, from Ceres: he included rice, wheat, rye, barley, oats, millet, and maize.”

This morning we were talking over all we had learned yesterday from Miss P. about the grasses, when my uncle invited us to his study, and showed us some dried specimens of feather-grass which grows in Europe, and is larger and more curious than the pretty little species that you have in Brazil. The feather is six inches long, with a kind of a spiral form at the lower end, which twists or untwists according to the degree of dampness in the atmosphere. We held a piece of it over the urn at tea, by which it was instantly put in motion, so that it would make a very nice hygrometer. I wish I was acquainted with Harry and Lucy, and I would send them the bit my uncle gave me. Miss P. says that, as the seed ripens, the flower closes over it into a sharp point, and that as the stalk is slightly barbed, it works its way into the ground by the effect of damp acting on the twisted part.

21st, Sunday.—I asked my uncle this morning to explain what he meant by the Levitical dispensation, and by the New dispensation, to which he has so frequently alluded.

“I will with pleasure, Bertha,” said he. “It gives me great satisfaction to perceive that you reflect on what you are told. Never allow yourself to be contented with half knowledge.

“You know that, in consequence of the fall of man, a system of divine grace for his redemption was promised by the Almighty; and that it commenced with the mysterious promise that the seed of the woman should bruise the head of the serpent. But as things in the natural world are only permitted to reach perfection gradually, rising from infancy to maturity, so it is, likewise, in the moral world: and this gracious scheme of mercy, instead of being at once displayed in its full extent, was gradually unfolded at different periods, until the promised seed was at length manifested in Jesus Christ. These successive communications have been called dispensations, because the knowledge of God and of his merciful intentions weredispensedor revealed by them. There have been three of these dispensations, the patriarchal, the Levitical, and the Christian; but they belong to the one system of Providence, and are all linked together, the redemption of the human race being the beginning and the end of the whole. The proper modes of worship were at the same time distinctly ordained; and, however different the institutions which were severally dispensed may appear to us, we may feel assured that each ofthem was peculiarly adapted to the moral state of the world when it was promulgated.

“During the term of the patriarchal dispensation, which comes first in order, it pleased God to make known such a portion of his will, and to dispense throughout the world such a degree of knowledge of his purposes, as would have been abundantly sufficient to have conducted mankind to heaven, if they had not wilfully resisted the benevolent offers that were made to them, and turned aside from the easy path of duty that was prescribed. The patriarchal dispensation was evidently intended to beuniversalin its offers, as well as in its conditions; for Adam would of course communicate to the numerous generations of his children, with whom he was contemporary, the knowledge, which he had himself derived from direct revelation, of God’s gracious will and intentions. But this universality was of short duration. Animal sacrifice appears to have been appointed as a type of that mighty sacrifice or atonement by which mankind were to be enabled in the fulness of time to triumph over their spiritual enemy; and the conduct of Cain in rejecting it produced an immediate distinction between the servants of God and those who were seduced to follow the principles of his apostasy. The terms on which that general atonement had been offered were neglected; the reconciliation of fallen man by means of the promised seed was slighted, and the lamentable corruption which spread amongst the early inhabitants of the world led to the awful judgment of the Deluge.

“Thus ended the first period of the patriarchal church. It was renewed in the descendants of Noah, and for a long period retained its original character of universality, till other apostasies took place. These, however, were of a very different nature from that of Cain. The occasional appearances of a superior race of beings, ministering under a human form between God and his creatures upon earth, probably led to what has been called Hero-worship. Surprising as this perversion may appear among people whose immediate ancestors had the singular advantage of direct communication with the Supreme Being, it seems to have taken deep root in the human mind; for, in the most enlightened nations of antiquity, we find a continual disposition to look back on departed heroes and conquerors, not only with a sort of pious veneration, but even to consider and address them as tutelar deities. Always prone to be led away from the plain and simple truth, human weakness found another early source of corruption in the worship of the heavenly bodies: their splendour, and their obvious influence on all the pursuits of mankind, produced a superstitious reverence, which by an easy transition degenerated into adoration; andit has been remarked, that in the early records of almost every country we find that the sun and moon were regarded as deities; and that fire was the constant emblem under which they were worshipped.

“The prevalence of these idolatries after the deluge may be inferred from various passages in the Scriptures; and particularly from the direct prohibitions contained in the laws that were given to Moses. But amidst all the depravities and abuses that had thus disfigured the patriarchal religion, the belief in the necessity of expiatory sacrifice was constantly maintained; and though the horrid corruption of that tenet gave rise to the sacrifice of human victims, there is no doubt that they dimly shadowed out a general belief in a future divine victim. Thus you perceive that, revolting as all these impious corruptions were, yet they had for their original foundation the very principle of the system of atonement and redemption; that ‘without shedding of blood there is no remission of sins.’

“The consideration of the other two dispensations we must defer, my dear Bertha, to another opportunity.”

22nd.—Mary and I went this evening in search of the moth of the little pear-leaf caterpillars: we shook a gooseberry-bush, and numbers of them came forth. They fly in the day-time, nevergoing far at a time, and cautiously conceal themselves in the nearest bush.

This little (seratella) moth is of a brownish colour, with numerous black dots and stripes on the fore wings, which are beautifully fringed with feathers. The inferior wings are very small, and have also a fringe on the margin. This moth is particularly distinguished by the extreme length of the hind feet; they are twice as long as the body, and are thought by some to act like a pair of oars in regulating their flight, and in helping to maintain the body in equilibrium.

My aunt told me that some years ago the depredations of this insect were considered as a species of blight, and the insect was so little known, that no description of it was to be found in either French or English entomologies. She believes that every blight that affects our fruit-trees is produced by insects, whose visits are encouraged by certain dispositions of the atmosphere. The germs of the future race are lodged ready to be called into existence whenever the weather be favourable to them. The cure then must be to eradicate the germ, but this can only be known by tracing the habits of these minute creatures. “What a field,” added my aunt, “for exercising the industry and observation of young people; and not only in acquiring knowledge, but in turning that knowledge to useful purposes.”

24th.—We accompanied my aunt and uncle yesterday in a very pleasant expedition. We boated to Elmore early in the morning to breakfast with Mrs. Maude, and heard some very entertaining letters from her daughter, which she was so kind as to read to us.

Miss M. has been in town for three weeks, and the friends she is with have made great exertions to shew her every thing interesting. In the midst of all her hurry, however, she has written constantly home, describing all she does, and sees, and thinks, that can interest her father and mother. She was not very fond of early rising; but now, in order to prevent any thing from interfering with these letters, she has the resolution to get up and write them before her friends’ breakfast hour. She has almost excited my envy by her repeated visits to the British Museum—to galleries of beautiful paintings—to botanic gardens and stoves—to collections of beasts, and birds, and insects,—to tunnels and suspension-bridges, and to all sorts of curious machinery; and she has had the great advantage, too, of having seen all these things in company with people who could explain them to her. Alas! such things can be found only in London.

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