matter for various sagacious conjectures and remarks for a
considerable time. At length Caroline exclaimed with the eagerness of
discovery, "Look! look! there's the baker now at the door, with a
whole tray full of tarts and things. Make haste, or he'll be gone in."
_Lucy_. So he is, I declare; it is a dinner-party then. Well, we shall
see presently, I hope, who are coming.
_Caroline_. Oh, no, they never dine till five when they have company.
_Eliza_. And it will be dark then; how tiresome!
_Lucy_. If Miss Jones is not dressed already! She is this instant come
into the drawing-room.
_Caroline_. Stand back, stand back! Don't let her see us all staring.
Ah, there she is,--got on her pink sarcenet body and sleeves to-day.
How pretty that dress is, to be sure!
_Eliza_. And how nicely she has done her hair! Look, Caroline--braided
behind.
_Lucy_. There, she is putting down the sash. That chimney smokes, I
know, with this wind.
_Fanny_. And there is that little figure, Martha Jones, come down now.
Do look--as broad as she is long! What a little fright that child is,
to be sure!
_Mother_. Pray, Fanny, was that remark useful or necessary?
_Fanny_. Oh, but mamma, I assure you, my tongue is quite well now.
_Mother_. I am sorry for it, my dear. Do you know, I should think it
well worth while to bite my tongue every day if there were no other
means of keeping it in order.
At this the girls laughed; but their mother, resuming her gravity,
thus continued:
"My dear girls, I should before now have put a stop to this idle
gossiping, if I had not hoped to convince you of the folly of it. It
is no wonder, I confess, that at your age you should learn to imitate
a style of remark which is but too prevalent in society. Nothing,
indeed, is more contagious. But let me also tell you, that girls of
your age, and of your advantages, are capable of seeing the meanness
of it, and ought to despise it. It is the chief end of education to
raise the minds of women above such trifling as this. But if a young
person who has been taught to think, whose taste has been cultivated,
and who might therefore possess internal resources, has as much idle
curiosity about the affairs of her neighbors, and is as fond of
retailing petty scandal concerning them, as an uneducated woman, it
proves that her mind is incurably mean and vulgar, and that
cultivation is lost upon her.
"This sort of gossiping, my dear girls, is the disgrace of our sex.
The pursuits of women lie necessarily within a narrow sphere, and they
naturally sink, unless raised by refinement, or by strong principle,
into that littleness of character, for which even their own husbands
and fathers (if they are men of sense) are tempted to despise them.
The minds of men, from their engagements in business, necessarily take
a larger range; and they are, in general, too much occupied with
concerns comparatively important to enter into the minute details
which amuse women. But women of education have no such plea to urge.
When your father and I direct you to this or that pursuit, it is not
so much for the sake of your possessing that particular branch of
knowledge, but that by knowledge in general you may become intelligent
and superior, and that you may be furnished with resources which will
save you from the miserable necessity of seeking amusement from
intercourse with your neighbors, and an acquaintance with their
affairs.
"Let us suppose, now, that this morning you had been all more
industriously inclined; and had been engaged in any of your
employments with that ardor which some happy young people manifest in
the acquisition of knowledge; would you, in that case, have felt any
desire to know the date of Mrs. W.'s pelisse, or any curiosity in the
proceedings of our neighbors the Joneses? No, you would then have
thought it a most impertinent interruption, if any one had attempted
to entertain you with such particulars. But when the mind is indolent
and empty, then it can receive amusement from the most contemptible
sources. Learn, then, to check this mean propensity. Despise such
thoughts whenever you are tempted to indulge them. Recollect that this
low curiosity is the combined result of idleness, ignorance,
emptiness, and ill-nature; and fly to useful occupation, as the most
successful antidote against the evil. Nor let it be forgotten that
such impertinent remarks as these come directly under the description
of those 'idle words,' of which an account must be given in the day of
judgment. Yes, this vulgar trifling is as inconsistent with the spirit
of Christian benevolence, and with the grand rule of 'doing to others
as we would that they should do to us,' as it is with refinement of
taste and dignity of character."
"Who would have thought," said little Fanny, "that my happening to
bite my tongue this morning would have led to all this?"
"It would be a fortunate bite for you, Fanny," said her mother, "and
for your neighbors, if it should make you more careful in the use of
it. If we were liable to such a misfortune whenever we use our tongues
improperly, some persons would be in a constant agony. Now, if our
consciences were but half as sensitive as our nerves, they would
answer the purpose much better. Foolish talking pains a good
conscience, just as continual speaking hurts a sore tongue; and if we
did but regard one smart as much as the other, it would act as a
constant check upon the unruly member."
EYES AND NO EYES, OR THE ART OF SEEING
By JOHN AIKIN and MRS. BARBAULD
"Well, Robert, where have you been walking this after noon?" said Mr.
Andrews, to one of his pupils at the close of a holiday.
_R._ I have been, sir, to Broom heath, and so round by the windmill
upon Camp-mount, and home through the meadows by the river-side.
_Mr. A._ Well, that's a pleasant round.
_R._ I thought it very dull, sir; I scarcely met with a single person.
I had rather by half have gone along the turnpike road.
_Mr. A._ Why, if seeing men and horses is your object, you would,
indeed, be better entertained on the highroad. But did you see
William?
_R._ We set out together, but he lagged behind in the lane, so I
walked on and left him.
_Mr. A._ That was a pity. He would have been company for you.
_R._ Oh, he is so tedious, always stopping to look at this thing and
that! I had rather walk alone. I dare say he is not got home yet.
_Mr. A._ Here he comes. Well, William, where have you been?
_W._ Oh, sir, the pleasantest walk! I went all over Broom-heath, and
so up to the mill at the top of the hill, and then down among the
green meadows by the side of the river.
_Mr. A._ Why, that is just the round Robert has been taking, and he
complains of its dullness, and prefers the highroad.
_W._ I wonder at that. I am sure I hardly took a step that did not
delight me, and I have brought home my handkerchief full of
curiosities.
_Mr. A._ Suppose, then, you give us some account of what amused you so
much. I fancy it will be as new to Robert as to me.
_W._ I will, sir. The lane leading to the heath, you know, is close
and sandy, so I did not mind it much, but made the best of my way.
However, I spied a curious thing enough in the hedge. It was an old
crab-tree, out of which grew a great bunch of something green, quite
different from the tree itself. Here is a branch of it.
_Mr. A._ Ah! this is mistletoe, a plant of great fame for the use made
of it by the Druids of old in their religious rites and incantations.
It bears a very slimy white berry, of which birdlime may be made,
whence its Latin name of _Viscus_. It is one of those plants which do
not grow In the ground by a root of their own, but fix themselves upon
other plants; whence they have been humorously styled _parasitical_,
as being hangers-on, or dependents. It was the mistletoe of the oak
that the Druids particularly honored.
_W._ A little farther on I saw a green woodpecker fly to a tree, and
run up the trunk like a cat.
_Mr. A._ That was to seek for insects in the bark, on which they live.
They bore holes with their strong bills for that purpose, and do much
damage to the trees by it.
_W._ What beautiful birds they are!
_Mr. A._ Yes; they have been called, from their color and size, the
English parrot.
_W._ When I got upon the open heath, how charming it was! The air
seemed so fresh, and the prospect on every side so free and unbounded!
Then it was all covered with gay flowers, many of which I had never
observed before. There were at least three kinds of heath (I have got
them In my handkerchief here), and gorse, and broom, and bellflower,
and many others of all colors, that I will beg you presently to tell
me the names of.
_Mr. A._ That I will readily.
_W._ I saw, too, several birds that were new to me. There was a pretty
grayish one, of the size of a lark, that was hopping about some great
stones; and when he flew he showed a great deal of white above his
tail.
_Mr. A._ That was a wheatear. They are reckoned very delicious birds
to eat, and frequent the open downs in Sussex, and some other
countries, in great numbers.
_W_. There was a flock of lapwings upon a marshy part of the heath,
that amused me much. As I came near them, some of them kept flying
round and round just over my head, and crying _pewet_ so distinctly
one might fancy they almost spoke, I thought I should have caught one
of them, for he flew as if one of his wings was broken, and often
tumbled close to the ground: but as I came near, he always made a
shift to get away.
_Mr. A._ Ha, ha! you were finely taken in then! This was all an
artifice of the bird's to entice you away from its nest; for they
build upon the bare ground, and their nests would easily be observed,
did they not draw off the attention of intruders by their loud cries
and counterfeit lameness.
_W._ I wish I had known that, for he led me a long chase, often over
shoes in water. However, it was the cause of my falling in with an old
man and a boy who were cutting and piling up turf for fuel, and I had
a good deal of talk with them about the manner of preparing the turf,
and the price it sells at. They gave me, too, a creature I never saw
before--a young viper, which they had just killed, together with its
dam. I have seen several common snakes, but this is thicker in
proportion, and of a darker color than they are.
_Mr. A._ True. Vipers frequent those turfy, boggy grounds pretty much,
and I have known several turf-cutters bitten by them.
_W._ They are very venomous, are they not?
_Mr. A._ Enough so to make their wounds painful and dangerous, though
they seldom prove fatal.
_W._ Well--I then took my course up to the windmill on the mount. I
climbed up the steps of the mill in order to get a better view of the
country round. What an extensive prospect! I counted fifteen church
steeples; and I saw several gentlemen's houses peeping out from the
midst of green woods and plantations; and I could trace the windings
of the river all along the low grounds, till it was lost behind a
ridge of hills. But I'll tell you what I mean to do, sir, if you will
give me leave.
_Mr. A._ What is that?
_W._ I will go again, and take with me Carey's county map, by which I
shall probably be able to make out most of the places.
_Mr. A._ You shall have it, and I will go with you, and take my pocket
spying-glass.
_W._ I shall be very glad of that. Well--a thought struck me, that as
the hill is called _Camp-mount,_ there might probably be some remains
of ditches and mounds with which I have read that camps were
surrounded. And I really believe I discovered something of that sort
running round one side of the mount.
_Mr, A._ Very likely you might. I know antiquaries have described such
remains as existing there, which some suppose to be Roman, others
Danish. We will examine them further, when we go.
_W._ From the hill I went straight down to the meadows below, and
walked on the side of a brook that runs into the river. It was all
bordered with reeds and flags and tall flowering plants, quite
different from those I had seen on the heath. As I was getting down
the bank to reach one of them, I heard something plunge into the water
near me. It was a large water-rat, and I saw it swim over to the other
side, and go into its hole. There were a great many large dragon-flies
all about the stream. I caught one of the finest, and have got him
here in a leaf. But how I longed to catch a bird that I saw hovering
over the water, and every now and then darting down into it! It was
all over a mixture of the most beautiful green and blue, with some
orange color. It was somewhat less than a thrush, and had a large head
and bill, and a short tail.
_Mr. A._ I can tell you what that bird was--a kingfisher, the
celebrated halcyon of the ancients, about which so many tales are
told. It lives on fish, which it catches in the manner you saw. It
builds in holes in the banks, and is a shy, retired bird, never to be
seen far from the stream where it inhabits.
_W_. I must try to get another sight at him, for I never saw a bird
that pleased me so much. Well--I followed this little brook till it
entered the river, and then took the path that runs along the bank.
On the opposite side I observed several little birds running along the
shore, and making a piping noise. They were brown and white, and about
as big as a snipe.
_Mr. A_. I suppose they were sandpipers, one of the numerous family of
birds that get their living by wading among the shallows, and picking
up worms and insects.
_W_. There were a great many swallows, too, sporting upon the surface
of the water, that entertained me with their motions. Sometimes they
dashed into the stream; sometimes they pursued one another so quick,
that the eye could scarcely follow them. In one place where a high
steep sand-bank rose directly above the river, I observed many of them
go in and out of holes with which the bank was bored full.
_Mr. A_. Those were sand-martins, the smallest of our species of
swallows. They are of a mouse color above, and white beneath. They
make their nests and bring up their young in these holes, which run a
great depth, and by their situation are secure from all plunderers.
_W_. A little farther I saw a man in a boat, who was catching eels in
an odd way. He had a long pole with broad iron prongs at the end, just
like Neptune's trident, only there were five instead of three. This he
pulled straight down among the mud in the deepest parts of the river,
and fetched up the eels sticking between the prongs.
_Mr. A_. I have seen this method. It is called spearing of eels.
_W_. While I was looking at him, a heron came flying over my head,
with his large flagging wings. He lit at the next turn of the river,
and I crept softly behind the bank to watch his motions. He had waded
into the water as far as his long legs would carry him, and was
standing with his neck drawn in, looking intently on the stream.
Presently he darted his long bill as quick as lightning into the
water, and drew out a fish, which he swallowed. I saw him catch
another in the same manner. He then took alarm at some noise I made,
and flew away slowly to a wood at some distance, where he settled.
_Mr. A_. Probably his nest was there, for herons build upon the
loftiest trees they can find, and sometimes in society together like
rooks. Formerly, when these birds were valued for the amusement of
hawking, many gentlemen had their _heronries_, and a few are still
remaining.
_W_. I think they are the largest wild birds we have.
_Mr. A_. They are of a great length and spread of wing, but their
bodies are comparatively small.
_W_. I then turned homeward across the meadows, where I stopped awhile
to look at a large flock of starlings which kept flying about at no
great distance. I could not tell at first what to make of them; for
they rose all together from the ground as thick as a swarm of bees,
and formed themselves into a kind of black cloud, hovering over the
field. After taking a short round, they settled again, and presently
rose again in the same manner, I dare say there were hundreds of them.
_Mr. A_. Perhaps so; for in the fenny countries their flocks are so
numerous as to break down whole acres of reeds by settling on them.
This disposition of starlings to fly in close swarms was remarked even
by Homer, who compares the foe flying from one of his heroes to a
_cloud_ of starlings retiring dismayed at the approach of the hawk.
_W_. After I had left the meadows, I crossed the cornfields and got to
the high field next our house just as the sun was setting, and I stood
looking at it till it was quite lost. What a glorious sight! The
clouds were tinged with purple and crimson and yellow of all shades
and hues, and the clear sky varied from blue to a fine green at the
horizon. But how large the sun appears just as it sets! I think it
seems twice as big as when it is overhead.
_Mr. A_. It does so; and you may probably have observed the same
apparent enlargement of the moon at its rising.
_W_. I have; but pray what is the reason of this?
_Mr. A_. It is an optical deception, depending upon principles which I
cannot well explain to you till you know more of that branch of
science. But what a number of new ideas this afternoon's walk has
afforded you! I do not wonder that you found it amusing; It has been
very instructive, too. Did _you_ see nothing of all these sights,
Robert?
_R_. I saw some of them, but I did not take particular notice of them.
_Mr. A_. Why not?
_R_. I don't know. I did not care about them, and I made the best of
my way home.
_Mr. A_. That would have been right if you had been sent of a message;
but as you only walked for amusement it would have been wiser to have
sought out as many sources of it as possible. But so it is--one man
walks through the world with his eyes open, and another with them
shut; and upon this difference depends all the superiority of
knowledge the one acquires above the other. I have known sailors, who
had been in all quarters of the world, and could tell you nothing but
the signs of the tippling-houses they frequented in different ports,
and the price and quality of the liquor. On the other hand, a Franklin
could not cross the channel without making some observations useful to
mankind. While many a vacant, thoughtless youth is whirled throughout
Europe without gaining a single idea worth crossing a street for, the
observing eye and inquiring mind find matter of improvement and
delight in every ramble in town or country. Do _you_ then, William,
continue to make use of your eyes; and _you_, Robert, learn that eyes
were given you to use.
PRINCE LIFE
By G.P.R. JAMES
I
Once upon a time there was a young Prince who met with a very curious
kind of misfortune. Most people want something which they cannot get;
and because they cannot get it, they generally desire it more than
anything else, which is very foolish, for it would be much better to
be contented with what they have.
He was a wise fox, my dear Charlie, who thought the grapes were sour
when he could not reach them. Now the Prince's misfortune consisted in
this, that he had everything on earth he could want or desire, and a
little more. He had a fine palace and a fine country, obedient
subjects and servants, and true friends. When he got up in the
morning, there was some one ready to put on his clothes for him; when
he went to bed at night, some one to take them off again. A fairy
called Prosperity gave him everything he desired as soon as he desired
it. If he wanted peaches at Christmas, or cool air at mid-summer, the
first came instantly from his hothouses, and the second was produced
by an enormous fan, which hung from the top of the room, and was moved
by two servants.
But strange to say, the Prince got weary of all this; he was tired of
wanting nothing. When he sat down to dinner he had but little
appetite, because he had had such a good breakfast; he hardly knew
which coat to put on, they were all so beautiful; and when he went to
bed at night, though the bed was as soft as a white cloud, he could
not sleep, for he was not tired.
There was only one ugly thing in the whole palace, which was a little,
drowsy, gray dwarf, left there by the fairy Prosperity. He kept
yawning all day, and very often set the Prince yawning, too, only to
look at him. This dwarf they called Satiety, and he followed the
Prince about wherever he went.
One day the Prince asked him what he was yawning for, and Satiety
answered:
"Because I have nothing to do, and nothing to wish for, my Prince."
"I suppose that is the reason why I yawn too," replied the Prince.
"Rather is it having me always with you,".answered Satiety.
"Then get away and leave me," said the Prince.
"I cannot do that," answered Satiety. "You can go from me, but I
cannot go from you; I can never leave you as long as you remain in the
palace of Prosperity."
"Then I will have you turned out," said the Prince.
"No one can do that," said Satiety, "but Misfortune, and he is a very
capricious person. Though he is a very disagreeable monster, some
people seem to court him, but cannot get him to come near them; while
to a great many he comes unawares, and catches them, though they fly
from him eagerly. I tell you, Prince, you can go from me, but I cannot
go from you as long as you remain in the palace of Prosperity."
That night, when he went to his soft bed, the Prince thought very much
as to the conversation he had held with Satiety, and he resolved to go
out of the palace for a time, just to get rid of the ugly little gray,
yawning dwarf.
The very resolution seemed to do him good, and he slept better that
night after he had made it than he had done for many a night before.
II
The next morning when he rose he felt quite refreshed, and he said to
a groom: "Bring me my stout horse, Expedition; I am going out to take
a ride all alone."
The groom answered not a word, for in that palace every one obeyed the
Prince at once, and nobody troubled him but the ugly little dwarf,
Satiety. As he went away, however, the groom said to himself with a
sigh: "It is a sad thing to be in the wide world all alone. My Prince
does not know what it is. But let him try; it may be better for him."
He accordingly brought the horse to the palace-door. But when the
Prince came down he felt quite well, and, looking about among all his
attendants, he could only catch a distant glimpse of Satiety standing
yawning behind. For a minute he was half inclined not to go, for he
did not mind seeing Satiety at a distance if he did not come near. But
the groom, whose name was Resolution, seeing him hesitate, said: "You
had better go, my Prince, as you determined; it may do you good." And
a chamberlain called Effort helped him on his horse.
At first, as the Prince rode along, everything was quite delightful to
him. He seemed to breathe more freely now that he was no more troubled
with Satiety. The flowers looked bright, and the sky beautiful, for a
cloud or two here and there only gave variety. The very air seemed
fresher than it had been in the sheltered gardens of the palace, and
the Prince said to himself: "What a delightful country this is, just
on the verge of the land of Prosperity."
Just then he saw a countryman gathering grapes in a vineyard, and
every now and then putting some into his mouth, and the Prince asked
him whose fine estate it was that he was passing through.
"It belongs to a gentleman and lady equally, sir," replied the good
man; "they are called Activity and Ease. They are the happiest couple
ever seen. When Activity is tired, Ease takes his head upon her lap;
and soon as she is weary of her burden, Activity jumps up and relieves
her from it."
"But to whom does that more barren country just beyond belong?" asked
the Prince. "And what is that great thick wood I see farther on
still?"
"That is the land of Labor and the Forest of Adversity," said the man.
"I would advise you to get through them as soon as possible, for the
first you will find very wearisome, and the second exceedingly
unpleasant, although people do say that there is a great deal of very
good fruit in the forest; only one gets well-nigh torn to pieces with
the thorns before one can reach it."