“The natural columns of basalt, near the landing-place, lie in so many

different directions that I cannot give a clear notion of them--erect,

oblique, and horizontal; and sometimes in each of these positions they

are curved. In the first cave which occurs, the columns are bent in such

a manner as to have given rise to its name of the _scollop_; but I think

they look still more like the inside of the timbers of a ship. On the

other side, the wall which leads into the cave, is formed by ends of

columns, which make it appear something like a honeycomb; and

immediately beyond this cave, the broken ends form a sort of stairs to

the causeway, and up to the great cave. Beneath this part of the cliff

is situated a single rock, called _Buachaille_, (the herdsman) a name

commonly applied in the Highlands to remarkable mountains and rocks.

There is a very striking coincidence between the Gaëlic and the Greek

languages, not only in this, but in other words; and my companion, who

is well acquainted with the Gaëlic, thinks that they must have had a

common origin.

“Of the three caves in the south-west side of the island, the

westernmost is called the cave of Mackinnon; who seems, from the number

of places to which he has given his name, to have been a hero of

considerable celebrity. Its height is 50 feet, and length 224 feet; but

although grand and sublime in general effect, it has not the beautiful

regularity so remarkable in the cave of Fingal; which I will now

endeavour to describe.

“The opening into this celebrated cave finishes above, in a sort of

Gothic arch, which is 66 feet above the surface of the water. The

breadth, at the entrance, is 42 feet; the whole length of the cave, 227;

and the height within, from 40 to 50 feet. The sides, like the front,

consist of groups of columns; and the ceiling, at least towards the

middle, is composed of the sections, or broken ends of columns, which

give it a very architectural appearance. The sea never ebbs entirely

out, and, therefore, forms the only floor of the cave; but the broken

range of columns which produces the exterior causeway, is continued on

each side within, and admits of access over the broken summits to the

farther end, if the water be not too high.

“After all, it is so impossible to describe this cave, that the very

attempt is presumptuous.--The more it is studied, the greater is the

admiration of the beholder. The richness arising from the multiplicity

of the parts--the great extent--the twilight gloom--the varying effects

of the reflected light--the transparent green of the water--the echo of

the surge rising and falling--and the profound solitude of the whole

scene, must make a strong impression on any mind at all sensible to

beauty, in art or nature. I only wish you could all have seen it, my

dear friends.”

_18th._--This has been a most charming day; the mild calm dry feel of

the air reminded me of the lovely weather that we are accustomed to at

Rio. Here the days are very changeable; but then the nights have not

that extreme chilliness that they have in Brazil.

It was resolved, at breakfast, in order to shew me a little of the

country, that we should take a long walk--visit a farmer who lives about

a mile and a-half from this--and then return by a different way, through

a hamlet, inhabited by some of the poorest class.

We were all ready at one o’clock, which was the appointed hour.--My

uncle dislikes very much that people should not be ready in time, and

really considers it a fault not to be punctual; he says, it shews a

selfish disregard of the wishes of others, and besides, that a great

deal of time is wasted--melted away by waiting for each other.--I hope I

shall learn to be more exact than I used to be, when with my indulgent

mother.

We walked through several fields; but they all had a confined

appearance, from being so much more fenced than the open country to

which I have been accustomed. Some were all life and bustle; the

reapers cutting the corn with their sickles, and dexterously laying it

in a line, so that the binders who follow them can tie it up into

sheaves without delay; several of these are then made to stand endways,

in a little tight group, called a shock. In another place, horses and

waggons were engaged in drawing home the corn which had been reaped

first, and was now dry enough to preserve it, to the farmyard, where it

was to be stacked; and they were succeeded by many little girls, who

were gleaning the scattered ears. Farmer Moreland was in his farmyard,

overseeing the stacking of his corn, and I could not but admire the

neatness and regularity with which the sheaves were placed, with the

tops pointing towards the centre, all being made quite firm, and the

outside of the stack kept perfectly even. My uncle made me also observe

that open passages, for the circulation of the air, were left in the

stack, to prevent its fermenting or _heating_, which would spoil the

grain. What a curious thing it is that decaying vegetables, when thus

pressed together, without a free passage of air should produce such a

chemical change, as to cause them to take fire!

After we had rested ourselves in Farmer Moreland’s comfortable house, we

looked at his garden, where I observed several rows of large sunflowers,

with the seed of which he feeds his fowls; and we then left him and

Dame Moreland, as we saw they were very busy.

In the nice smooth green fields which we passed through, there are no

beautiful flowers, like those which spread a brilliant carpet over our

plains; nor is there any of that rank grass, nearly the height of a man,

so common in some parts of Brazil. The hay was all made up some weeks

ago, so that I cannot see the delicate flowers of the grasses, nor their

slender stalks or _culms_. My aunt says, that grass contains a great

deal of very nourishing sugary juice; and if the hay is cut and made up

early, before that juice is exhausted by maturing the seed, it becomes

much more strengthening food than when mowed late.

Nor are there any herds of wild cattle here, like those in parts of our

country; and, therefore, the Brazilian custom of catching the cattle by

a noose is not in use. I described to Wentworth the dexterity with which

the _peons_ fling the noose, or _lasso_, over the head of any animal,

even in full gallop. Here the cattle are in small numbers, and submit

readily to the restraint of being confined in fields. The person who

takes care of them has comparatively little trouble; and though he does

not live on beef for every meal, like the peon, yet he is in fact more

comfortable. We saw some very poor people in the hamlet by which we

returned home, and found them civil in their manners, and contented

with their employment. As to their houses, they are very different,

indeed, from the peon’s hovel of upright posts, interwoven with branches

of trees, and plastered with mud, thatched with nothing but long grass,

and a hide stretched on four sticks, by way of a door.

I was surprised to see with what docility a number of cows allowed

themselves to be driven home by a little boy to Farmer Moreland’s. My

uncle told me, that it is a great relief to them to have their milk

taken away; and that were the fields open, they would go home at the

regular hours to be milked. I had imagined that cows had but a small

portion of sense or instinct; but my uncle told me several instances of

their sagacity, and among others, one which he read lately in travels in

Norway and Lapland.

The author frequently saw cows feeding close to precipices several

hundred feet high, where an English cow would have but little chance of

escape; but the Norway cows, turned out amidst the mountains to procure

their subsistence, become as nimble as goats, and climb the rocky crags

with the greatest ease.

The manner in which instinct has taught them to descend the mountains is

curious. Sitting on their haunches, they place their fore-feet close

together, and in this way slide down places, which from their steepness

would appear quite impassable with safety.

We went into several cottages belonging to the poor labourers. They are

either built of brick, or of frame-work filled in with bricks and

plaster, with good doors and glass windows; and inside, every thing,

though shewing poverty, gave the idea of comfort. The walls papered, or

nicely white-washed, the floors scowered and sprinkled with sand;

plates, cups, and saucers displayed on shelves; beds with clean

patchwork quilts; and in two of the houses, wooden-clocks to call the

people up to their business. And to all of them there was a detached

shed for the pig, unlike the filthy place left, between the posts, that

support the floor of the Brazilian huts. In the last cottage we visited,

we found that the hospitable people it belonged to had contrived to make

room for a poor traveller and her child. She had come there on Saturday

evening, when they gave her lodging for charity. On Sunday, she begged

permission to remain, because she did not think it right to travel on

that day; and on Monday she grew ill, and has been in bed ever since.

These good people seemed so kind and generous to her, though very poor

themselves, that my aunt is much interested for them.

How gratifying it is to see the poorest people assisting each other,

even when really distressed themselves, but the most delightful thing of

all, dear Mamma, is that there are no slaves here; every body is free,

and may work or be idle as they like; but if they prefer idleness, they

must of course want the comforts possessed by the industrious;--for

industry, as you used to say, brings comfort and happiness.

_19th._--This forest of Deane is very extensive, I find, for it is

nearly twenty miles long, and ten broad. Here, at the south-east, it is

bordered by the Severn, and on the north-west it stretches to the Wye;

so that it forms the chief part of the western district of

Gloucestershire. It was once the chief support of the English navy; but

the timber is much diminished in consequence of the iron works in its

neighbourhood, which it supplied a long time with fuel. My uncle says,

however, that it has more the appearance of a forest than almost any

other in England; and it still contains many noble old oak and beech

trees, besides birch, holly, and underwood.

Here and there a few acres, surrounding cottages, have been cleared and

cultivated, which make a beautiful variety. These cottages, and some

farm-houses which stand upon the forest land, are free from taxes, and

belong to no parish.

My aunt says, it is quite remarkable for the quantities of primroses and

lilac wood-sorrel that are every where found. There are a few deer in

some parts of the forest, but I have not yet seen them.

_20th._--What a difference between this country, and that which I have

left! I scarcely know which to call my own: should it not be that where

I lived during my happy childhood with my dear Mamma? The kindness and

affection of all my friends here will, I am sure, soon make this country

dear to me also; but beautiful I can never think it, when I recollect

Brazil, and all its various charms, and all the innumerable flowers and

trees that are at this moment in brilliant beauty; while here, the

principal flowers are all gone by, and symptoms of the decay of autumn

already appear.

It was just about this season that you used to take us to the cottage

you had on the Lagoa de Bodingo Freitas. What various amusements we had

there! The road along the slope of the mountain was so pretty, among

myrtles, _begonias_, and _paullinias_; and there we were always sure of

finding the diamond-beetle; and then when gradually descending from the

hill, we drove along the banks of the sea covered with lofty ferns; and

when you used to allow us to stop on the shore and search for sea-stars,

urchins, shells, and plants. Oh, those were happy times! Or when we used

to go with you to the low grounds near the lake, and lose ourselves in

the thickets of _mangrove_ trees, while gathering their curious seeds,

and wondering at the long roots they shoot out to the ground, and while

you were searching for marsh plants and fern bushes. Indeed, I never,

never can forget those days; nor the still solitude of that valley, the

beauty of the rock of Gavia, covered with the blue _gloxinia_, and the

wild mountain stream that came tumbling down into the lake; nor the poor

fishermen who used to look so happy when you gave them a few _reals_.

Though we live here on the borders of a forest, it is quite unlike that

forest near which the Senhor Antonio Gomez lives, and where we used

sometimes to spend a few weeks so pleasantly. I miss several little

things that seemed to me to belong to a forest, and which used to amuse

Marianne and me so much--the howling of the monkeys in the wood, that

wakened us in the mornings, and the deep noises of the frogs and toads,

with the chirp of the grasshoppers and locusts, like a monotonous treble

mixed with that croaking bass.

And then when playing about in the wood after the mists of the night had

been dispelled by the rising sun, and when every creature seemed to be

rejoicing in the return of day, we had such delight in chasing the

pretty butterflies. Nothing at all here like those great butterflies

that used to flutter from flower to flower, and hover among the bushes

under which we sat; or that sometimes collected in separate companies on

the sunny banks of the little stream that ran through the valley near

the Senhor’s house. None of those great owl-moths sitting quietly on the

trees waiting, with their wings spread open, for the approach of

evening. Alas! I see none of those beautiful creatures here; nor the

long nests of the wasps hanging from the trees; nor the beetles

sparkling brightly on the flowers and fresh leaves; nor the beautiful

little serpents, equal to flowers in splendour, gliding out of the

leaves and the hollows of trees, and creeping up the stem to catch

insects.

I have just been describing to Mary those woods which seemed actually

alive, when the monkeys came leaping and chattering from tree to tree,

and enjoying the sun; as well as all our birds with their bright

plumage, whose various notes formed such extraordinary concerts. The

_urapong_, which makes the woods resound with a noise like the strokes

of a hammer on the anvil. The showy parrots of every colour, and the

_manakin_, whose melodious morning song you loved, because it was so

like the warbling of the nightingale; and which Mary tells me is called

the _organiste_, in St. Domingo, on account of the compass of its song,

as it forms a complete octave. And besides all these, the dear little

busy _orioles_, that my sister and I have so often watched creeping out

of the little hole at one side of their long bag-shaped nests, to visit

the orange trees, while their sentinels gave them notice by a loud

scream of the approach of strangers.

Mary smiled when I told her, what I am sure Marianne remembers--how we

used to like to listen to the _toucan_ rattling with his large hollow

beak, as he sat on the extreme branches, and calling, in plaintive

notes, for rain; and how sometimes, when he was sitting comfortably and

almost hid in the nest which he had scooped in the stem of a tree, we

used to pretend to alarm him, that we might see how instantly he

prepared to attack the invader with his bill.

But these are all passed away. Dear Mamma, forgive this list of pleasing

recollections: describing them to you makes me feel as if I was again

enjoying them in your company. There is such a glowing splendour, as I

told Mary, in the sunny days of Brazil, when the glittering

humming-birds dart about, and with their long bills extract the honey

from the flowers, that I cannot avoid perceiving how gloomy every thing

appears here; but pray do not think me discontented.

Mary, to whom I had been describing all these past delights, came back

to me just as I had written so far; and, seeing the tears in my eyes,

she seemed to feel with me, and to think it quite natural that I should

every moment perceive the difference between two countries so opposite

in climate and in every thing; though she laughed a little at my

repeating to you all that you see continually; but you know, Mamma, you

desired me to write all I thought, and you may well suppose how

constantly my thoughts turn towards the country in which you live.

Mary said she should have been surprised if I had not felt the change.

“But indeed, Bertha,” said she, “you must not forget how well balanced

are our blessings. If Brazil has a climate, and various beautiful

productions which England does not possess, England, on the other hand,

has far more substantial comforts; and, by her commerce, she has the

means of enjoying those of all other countries. We have not your

brilliant flowers and birds, but you will find that we have many which

are more useful, and which will interest you, who love natural history.

Our birds have no pendent nests, because they are in no danger from such

depredators as your monkeys and snakes, and therefore their instinct

does not lead them to contrive such means of defence; but you will see,

amongst both our birds and insects, many whose habits are equally

curious.”

I said that I believed, as you, Mamma, have often told me, that there is

no country which does not possess much to attach its inhabitants to it,

and to interest an observant mind.

“And it is in the mind,” she replied, “that our real happiness will

always be found. It rests on our own disposition and thoughts, much

more than on those outward circumstances which appear coloured by our

feelings; just as objects appear the colour of the glass through which

you look at them. But,” added she, “I came not to moralise, but to beg

of you to come out and walk.”

Out we went; and my thoughts soon turned from the scenes I have been

lamenting, to the satisfactory feeling of having, in both my countries,

such dear and good friends.

_21st._ _Sunday._--In the course of a conversation this morning about

the Sabbath day, a lady, who is here on a visit, remarked that it was

the idea of some people, that the Sabbath, having been instituted at the

time that the Israelites received the Ten Commandments, is not binding

on Christians, any more than the other Levitical institutions.

In order to show what a mistaken idea that is, my uncle read to us the

extract which I am going to copy here.

“It is a great mistake to consider the Sabbath as a mere festival of the

Jewish church, deriving its whole sanctity from the Levitical law. The

religious observation of the seventh day is included, in the Decalogue,

among our first duties; but the reason assigned for the injunction is

general, and has no relation to the particular circumstances of the

Israelites, or to the particular relation in which they stood to God as

his chosen people. The creation of the world was an event equally

interesting to the whole human race; and the acknowledgment of God as

our Creator is a duty, in all ages and countries, incumbent on mankind.

“The terms of the ordinance plainly describe it as an institution of an

earlier age--‘Wherefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day, and _set it

apart_,’ which is the true meaning of hallowed it. These words express a

past time. It is not said, Wherefore the Lord now blesses the seventh

day, and sets it apart, but, Wherefore he _did_ bless it, and set it

apart in times past; and he now requires that you, his chosen people,

should be observant of that ancient institution.

“In confirmation of this fact, we find, by the 16th chapter of Exodus,

that the Israelites were already acquainted with the Sabbath, and had

been accustomed to a strict observance of it, before Moses received the

tables of the law at Sinai. For, when the manna was first given for

their nourishment in the wilderness, they were commanded to lay by, on

the sixth day, a sufficient portion for the succeeding day. ‘To-morrow,’

said Moses, ‘is the rest of the holy Sabbath unto the Lord: on that day

ye shall not find it in the field; for the Lord hath given you the

Sabbath, therefore he giveth you on the sixth day bread for two days.’

He mentions the Sabbath as a divine command, with which the people were

well acquainted; for he alleges the well-known sanctity of the day, to

account for the extraordinary supply of manna on the preceding day. But

the appointment of the Sabbath, to which his words allude, must have

been earlier than the appointment of the law, of which no part had yet

been given. For this first gathering of manna was in the second month of

the departure of the Israelites from Egypt; and they did not arrive at

Sinai, where the law was given, till the third month.

“An institution of this antiquity and importance could derive no part of

its sanctity from the authority of the Mosaic law; and the abrogation of

that law no more releases the worshippers of God from a due observation

of the Sabbath, than it cancels the injunction of filial piety, or the

prohibition of theft or murder.

“The worship of the Christian church is properly to be considered as a

restoration of the patriarchal church in its primitive simplicity and

purity; and of the patriarchal worship, the Sabbath was one of the

noblest and simplest rites. As the Sabbath was of earlier institution

than the religion of the Jews, so it necessarily survives the extinction

of the Jewish law, and makes a part of Christianity.

“It differs from all other ordinances, of similar antiquity, and is a

part of the rational religion of man, in every stage and state of his

existence, till he shall attain that happy rest of which the Sabbath is

a type.

“Let us remember, always, that to mankind in general, and to us

Christians in particular, the proper business of that day is the worship

of God in public assemblies. Private devotion is the Christian’s _daily_

duty; but the peculiar duty of the Sabbath is public worship. Every

man’s conscience must direct him what portion of the remainder of the

Sabbath should be allotted to private devotion, useful duties, and sober

recreation. And, perhaps, a better general rule cannot be laid down than

this--that the same proportion of the Sabbath, on the whole, should be

devoted to religious exercises, public and private, as each individual

would employ, on any other day, in ordinary business.”

_22d._--I have just been made very happy, dear Mamma. I was sitting in

my aunt’s dressing room, labouring through a difficult question in

arithmetic, which Mary had given me, when my uncle came in; and, after a

little conversation, he said to my aunt and cousins, “I am very much

pleased with this good girl. I have not judged of her hastily--I approve

of her as a companion for my daughters; and she has my free permission

to be with them in this room and every where, as much as she pleases.”

It is a great satisfaction to add, that my cousins looked as much

pleased at this as I did; but they could not feel the delight that I

felt, when he continued,--“Bertha, my dear, when you write to your

mother, I desire that you will say I am highly pleased with her

education of her little daughter. Separated from her friends and country

by ill health, with little of good society, and labouring under many

disadvantages, she has not sunk into indolence or indifference--she has

preserved her good sense and energy, and has made you a gentlewoman in

mind and manners; and I rejoice to see you so much what the child of my

excellent sister ought to be.”

My beloved mother, this little message to you gave me such heartfelt

delight, that my eyes very nearly overflowed.

My kind uncle afterwards said, “But, Bertha, do not imagine that I think

you have no faults.”

“No, dear uncle,” said I, “that never came into my head; but I am sure

you and my aunt will be so good as to assist me in conquering them.”

“Most readily I will,” said he: “indeed I will write myself to your

mother, and tell her how much I like her Bertha, who deserves to be the

companion of my daughters; my sister knows how particular I am about

their intimacies and early friendships.”

Though I know his letter will be a most welcome one to you, I could not

resist the pleasure of telling you all this myself, dear Mamma. I shall

feel much more bright and cheerful now, than I have felt, since I left

you.

_23d._--I can walk much more here than I could in our own hot country,

so I am out a great deal every fine day.

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