trembled for my wife’s health; but Providence graciously supported her.
It was at that time that a circumstance occurred, which I think will
interest you. We had an infant, of a few months old, who suffered much,
by the anxiety that my wife, who was nursing it, secretly felt,--the
poor babe sunk.--Its decline was rapid; and before we were aware of the
danger, we found that it was actually dying. It was on a dreadful
evening of snow and storm, that we sat watching over our expiring babe.
One candle lighted our little room, and, cold as the weather was, we
could only afford a small fire; my three elder children were gathered
close round it; and one began so mildly, but urgently, to ask for her
supper,--that a piece of bread was given to her. We heard a violent
knocking at the door, and the maid having opened it before I could go
myself, two men rudely pushed by her, and forced their way into the room
where we sat.--You may imagine the indignation and horror I felt at such
an intrusion, and at such a moment.--I asked, as calmly as I could,
their business, and one of them said--‘Our business, sir, is to demand
assistance;--you may call it charity if you like, but as we are driven
by want of work to starve, we must take by force what is not willingly
given to us; my children have not a crust to eat, and I am resolved to
procure something for them; this is the first time we have ever
attempted to get by force what we would willingly earn by our labour.’
“‘My friends,’ said I, ‘I am a stranger here, and in distress
myself--misfortunes have reduced me as well as you--and the whole sum
that I am at present possessed of, will scarcely do more than pay for
the funeral of the infant whom you see dying.--I will give you a part
of it;--if you take it all by force, I cannot resist you. All I can do
is to advise you not to enter on this lawless life--why do you not apply
to the clergyman of the parish?--try every honest means before you
attempt to live by violence--but if once you stain your character,
nothing can restore it.--Return to your homes--I promise never to betray
you, unless you renew such conduct--take this money--and perhaps
to-morrow may bring you employment or assistance.’--‘And here,’ said my
little girl, ‘here, take this bread to your little children, it was my
supper--but I can do without it.’
“The man was touched by this action of the child,--his voice faultered
as he thanked me for the small sum I had put into his hand, and with his
companion went away quietly. They followed my advice, and applied next
day to the village pastor, who had but lately returned from an absence
occasioned by ill health; and who as yet had known nothing about me. He
soon found his way to our cottage--sympathized with equal delicacy and
kindness in our affliction, and requested as a favour, the permission of
sometimes visiting us. The friendship of Mr. Benson, who is an example
of the virtues and graces of piety and benevolence blended together, has
been our greatest source of pleasure ever since the sad occasion of his
visit; and I may say, that I owed it to the gratitude of the poor
mistaken men whom I had rescued from guilt. I found that they were
Irishmen; and that they had been driven as vagrants from parish to
parish. I soon had it in my power to procure them work, and their warm
hearts do, I believe, feel endless gratitude.
“As my eldest boy was a very promising child in disposition and
intellect, my good friend Mr. Benson made it a point, that he should be
allowed to assist in his education; he has completely prepared him for
the university, and through some interest which he possesses, he was so
kind as to place him there a few months since, at a very trifling
expense to me. Through him, also, another happy circumstance occurred to
me two or three years ago;--a connection of Mr. Benson’s, who had lately
come into possession of an estate in this neighbourhood, having met me
at the parsonage, requested me to be his agent; giving me full powers to
plant, improve, and superintend the management of the whole property.
This to me is a most interesting employment; and as I give full time and
attention to it, I consider my salary to be fairly and honourably
earned.
“Amidst all her laborious vocations, my wife continued to educate our
daughters. Her main object has been to give them religious principles,
and that solid kind of knowledge, which a well-taught female should
possess. She has made them, as I hope you will find, gentlewomen in
their manners, but industrious and independent; and she has, I think,
inspired them with her own neatness and love of order, which never
ceased, even when our distress might have been some excuse for
negligence. We had, as I mentioned, preserved our books, and with these,
and the aid of her own admirable talents, she has formed their minds,
and I may say, their hearts; for she has taught them to love being
useful, and never to turn from a poor applicant under the selfish plea
of their own poverty, or the specious one of public duty.
“We have gradually made our cottage larger: clean, neat, and cheerful,
it always was; but now it is really comfortable. Here I wish always to
remain--it has been the scene of happiness, springing from active
exertion, and humble religious trust.”
_10th._--My uncle had a visit to-day from a Mr. H----, who is just
returned from Stockholm, where he has been for some months. He told us a
great deal of the manners and customs of that city; and it is curious to
observe, how exactly its present state agrees with the account given by
Dr. Clarke, who says, “that if a razor was to be put in order, or an
instrument repaired, they were sent to London; and that such was the
scarcity of vegetables, that there was a constant importation of them
from other countries.” When he was at Stockholm, there were thirty-six
wig-makers, and only one cutler--forty-seven vintners, and not a single
chimney sweeper--nineteen coffee-roasters, though coffee had been
prohibited--one hundred and thirteen keepers of ordinaries, and only one
tool grinder; iron and tar were to be had in plenty, but there was
nothing good manufactured in the country, excepting Scania gloves, which
are the best in the world. Almost every thing imported from England was
contraband, and, therefore, clandestinely sold, at an immense price. The
inferiority of Swedish workmanship, and often the total want of the
article itself, is very striking--a whole day may be lost in searching
for common necessaries.
When Clarke was at Christiana, in Norway, a rich merchant told him, that
all the linen of his family was annually sent to London to be washed.
“We cannot go,” said he, “to market, or to shops, as you do in an
English town: here, those who would live handsomely, must collect into
their own warehouses from all parts of the world, whatsoever they may
want for a whole year’s consumption.” Mr. H. says, “there are few hands
in Sweden expert enough to repair machinery; and the clumsy machines
used in the mines, is a proof of the small progress they have made. As
to gardens, scarcely any body thinks of cultivating vegetables enough
for themselves, much less of having them for sale; and England still
largely supplies that article of food to Stockholm.”
In speaking of this, after Mr. H. had gone, my aunt reminded us of the
facts we had lately read in Ker Porter’s Persia, respecting the manner
in which some customs continue unchanged for ages; but she thought this
far more extraordinary in Sweden, which is in constant communication
with the rest of Europe.
“It is partly caused,” said my uncle, “by the nature of the government,
which tends rather to repress, than to excite speculation. Some
improvement, however, does take place: a friend of mine, Mr. B., thirty
years ago, saw in a gentleman’s garden at Stockholm, a little bed of
potatoes, which the owner shewed him as a great curiosity. ‘They tell
me, sir,’ said the gentleman, ‘that in some countries, the roots of this
plant are eaten as common food by the people.’ Yet now,” continued my
uncle, “this potatoe, which was then such a wonder, is generally
cultivated throughout all Sweden, and is liked by all classes.”
_11th._ _Sunday._--Wentworth asked my uncle to-day, what is meant
by--_thy kingdom come_--in the Lord’s prayer? “What do we exactly pray
for when we repeat those words?”
“I believe,” said my uncle, “that they have been variously explained.
By some they are supposed to allude to that period, when the Messiah
will again dwell on the earth, and when wickedness and misery shall
finally cease. Others apply them to the universal diffusion of the
gospel; when all nations will become the people of Christ; and when his
kingdom may therefore be truly said to extend over the whole world.
“But besides these general, and I fear, distant applications of the
expression, there is another, and a simpler one, which more immediately
directs itself to our present feelings and actions: when the influence
of Christ has overcome all our sordid and selfish motives; when his
humility is the example we endeavour to follow; when our passions are
controlled by the purity of his precepts; when our actions are subjected
to the dominion of his will; in short, when our love, gratitude, and
obedience to him, form the governing principle of our lives: then,
indeed, it may be literally said, that his reign has been established in
our hearts, and that his kingdom has come.
“We may certainly interpret these words as relating either to the future
kingdom of the Messiah on earth, or to the progress of Christian
knowledge in humanising the savage and enlightening the heathen; but we
are scarcely authorised to suppose that our prayers can be of any avail
in hastening the time appointed by immutable Wisdom for those important
events. When, therefore, in using this sublime and concise prayer, we
mean to express either of these significations, we must perceive that
they do not possess that second quality which seems to me to be
essentially necessary in every prayer proceeding from man--namely, that
while we address our petitions to God, they, at the same time, should
convey an admonition to ourselves, and instruct us how to do our part
towards attaining those objects for which we supplicate.
“But if, on the other hand, we apply those words to the dominion of
Christian principles in ourselves, we are given reason to hope that the
petition may be granted, because we pledge our own humble, but earnest
efforts, as the requisite condition on which we presume to pray for it;
and for these reasons I am inclined to consider that this is the most
important meaning of the words, Thy kingdom come.”
_12th._--Hertford’s letters have, of late, been very frequent. I think
the following extract will amuse you.
“The Druidical monuments of the island of Lewis are remarkable. Scotland
possesses many specimens of those structures; but, except in Lewis, they
are rare among the Western islands. In the neighbourhood of Loch
Bernera, several of them are comprised in a comparatively small space:
a square mile would include the whole. They are situated in an open,
fertile tract, on the borders of an inlet of the sea; and if they were
really temples, dedicated to Druidical worship, so many being collected
together would almost imply that this spot was the seat of a college.
Next to Stonehenge, they are, perhaps, the most interesting remains
which have been found in Great Britain.
“The largest of these structures has the form of a cross, with a circle
at the intersection, and a large central stone. Its total length, at
present, is 588 feet, but other stones are found, in the same direction,
for above 90 feet farther; so that we may suppose the whole length to
have been nearly 700 feet. The cross line, which intersects that one at
right angles, measures 204 feet, but it probably was much greater; and
the diameter of the circle that occupies the interior of the cross, is
63 feet. The stone which marks the centre is 12 feet in height; the
other stones rarely reach beyond 4 feet, though a few of 7 or 8 feet
high are to be found, and one reaching to 13 is seen near the extremity
of the long line. The intervals between them vary from 2 to 10 feet; and
the whole number of stones, either erect or recently fallen, is
forty-seven. The aspect of the whole work is very striking, as it
occupies the top of a gentle eminence of moorland, and as there is no
other object, not even a rock or a stone, to divert the attention, or
diminish the impression which it makes.
“There are some circles of stones to be seen in the neighbourhood, but
they are less perfect; and several large solitary stones, apparently of
a monumental nature, are found in other parts of Lewis; but the
_cruciform_ shape of the structure which I have described is a
remarkable and peculiar circumstance. No ruin, of that form, has been
traced beyond the introduction of Christianity; and I believe it is
agreed, that where the figure of the Cross is found carved on buildings
of higher antiquity, it has been done by Christians, who have converted
the monuments of ancient superstition to their own purposes. But such
attempts cannot be supposed to apply to such an assemblage of large rude
stones; while the circular parts, and the general resemblance of the
whole to other Druidical structures, seem to prove its ancient origin.”
_13th._--My uncle is so kind as to permit me to sit in the library
whenever I like; and though he studies a great deal, he says my being
there does not disturb him. He seems pleased whenever we young people go
there, and very often lays aside what he is engaged in, to converse with
us, or shew us something curious. Sometimes he takes that opportunity
of giving a little gentle reproof; for he is so considerate of our small
feelings, that he seldom exposes any one publicly in the family circle,
knowing that half the good is destroyed by the mortification.
I was up remarkably early this morning, and went to the library before
breakfast, expecting to be commended a little for my improvement in
early rising. After our morning greetings, my uncle did commend me very
kindly, and said that the pleasure of seeing me in the library was
doubled by the satisfaction it gave him to find that I had such power
over myself. I was beginning to exult a little inwardly at this, when he
added, “But now, Bertha, as there are few pleasures without alloy, I
must cloud this praise a little by doing what I dislike--by finding
fault.”
You may suppose, dear Mamma, what a damp this cast on me for a moment;
but I knew that he never chides without reason, he is so mild; and he
never mistakes one’s conduct, he is so just: so I brightened up again,
and anxiously listened.
“The fault, my dear Bertha, which I have to mention, is one that I have
observed ever since you have been here--and it is, in my opinion, so
important, that I can no longer wait for your own good sense to perceive
it; for habit strengthens at a rapid pace. A general want of neatness is
the fault to which I allude. I do not mean a want of actual
cleanliness, but an untidy, careless way of arranging your clothes. I
observe that they are not always put on straight--up at one side, down
at the other--your petticoat, or something, forcing its way above or
below the edge of your gown--a button off--a string broken--part of a
flower torn or unsewed--frills looking flattened and wrinkled, and not
having the fresh look that every thing about a young lady should have.
Your hair in general looks shining and nice, but I don’t perceive why it
should not always be arranged more carefully, and so as to prevent it
from straggling at the sides, as I sometimes see.
“Ladies are always very anxious to be fashionable, but I assure you,
Bertha, though your dresses may be of the newest patterns, you will not
look well dressed without something more. Fashion changes continually;
the furbelows of to-day give place to-morrow to some other whim--and the
vulgar and the empty-minded have the never-ending delight of altering
their dresses, but fail after all in acquiring the air of gentlewomen.
“A good carriage, a smooth walk, a feeling of being at ease in company,
ready attention to all that is going on, and withdrawing one’s thoughts
from self, give the stamp of good society more effectually, than all the
finery that can be purchased. That valuable feeling of being at ease,
and the self-possession it produces, can be obtained but one way. Never
allow yourself when alone, to sit or move, in a manner that you would
think inconsistent with propriety in company. But to return to our
dress,--pray, accustom yourself to have your clothes in neat order,
whatever they are; and well put on, _at all times_. The French
expression ‘d’être bien mise,’ conveys everything that can be said on
this subject; for besides the reasonable attention to fashion, which
good sense requires, and the suitable correspondence of colours which
implies good taste, it includes all the proper pinning, tying, and
arrangement, which in my opinion is the most important point of all.”
I thanked my uncle very sincerely; and he then added, “Yes, Bertha, I
consider it as a very unwise tenderness, not to make known their lesser
faults to young people. Your aunt is of a somewhat different opinion,
and was unwilling to annoy you, so I took it on myself to advise you on
the subject of your toilette. It was from this mistaken delicacy of your
dear aunt’s, that one of your cousins was acquiring the unfortunate
habits of want of neatness and an ungraceful walk. Your aunt depended on
her own good sense to overcome them; but at last, perceiving the injury
we should do the child, by allowing those habits to become fixed, I
spoke to her myself--she not only outlived my interference, but
immediately and vigorously set about correcting them. She found some
difficulty, I believe, but she has succeeded so well, that I think you
cannot discover which of my daughters I mean, except that she is now,
perhaps, the most remarkable for her neatness, and is always _bien
mise_.”
_14th._--My uncle read to us to-day, an account given by a traveller in
Savoy, of the fall of a part of Mont Grenier--a very astonishing
instance, he says, of the local changes that occur on the face of the
earth. I must give you a short account of it, dear Mamma.
Mont Grenier is five miles south of Chamberry; and rises about four
thousand feet above the broad plain, on which it stands almost alone. A
part of this mountain fell down in the year 1248, and entirely buried
five parishes, and the town and church of St. André. The ruins spread
over nine square miles, which are called les Abîmes de Myans; and though
many centuries have passed away, they still present a singular scene of
desolation.
The Abîmes de Myans now appear like little hills of a conical shape, and
varying in height from twenty to thirty feet. They consist of detached
heaps of fragments, but the largest masses have evidently fallen from
the upper bed of limestone, by which Mont Grenier is capped; and some
of them have been projected to the distance of four miles from the
mountain. This limestone rests on beds of softer materials, by the
gradual crumbling away of which, it is supposed the mass above them was
undermined and precipitated into the valley. In the course of years, the
rains or torrents, produced by dissolving snows, have washed away the
loose earth, and thus the little conical mounts have been separated and
detached as they are seen at present.
So deep is the mass that has covered the town of St. André, that nothing
belonging to it has been discovered, except a small bronze statue. The
ancient chronicles do not inform us, whether the catastrophe was
preceded by any warning that allowed the inhabitants time to escape. The
quantity of matter sufficient to cover the plain to such a depth and
extent, rushing from the height of three quarters of a mile into the
plain, must have produced a shock inconceivably awful. A great part of
the district has been gradually planted with vines, but it still
presents a most impressive scene of ruin.
My uncle said that this is one of the most remarkable _eboulements_ of
which he has ever seen a description--he read it to us from travels very
lately made in Switzerland and Savoy[5].
_15th._--I hope you are interested, dear Mamma, in Bessy Grimley’s
history.
Franklin is returned--he came about a week after his letter; poor Bessy
was very anxious, for the weather was stormy, and she could not hinder
herself from being frightened at the thoughts of the great ocean he had
to cross. We went again to see her, and I tried to cheer her, by telling
her I had lately come a much longer voyage. My aunt accompanied us, and
was pleased with the cottage and its inhabitants; she went to visit the
poor old decrepit woman, and found her bed made up comfortably, and both
that and the room looking very tidy and clean. The window was open, and
a rose tree covered with flowers hung over it. My poor daughter, said
the old woman, planted that rose-tree in her last illness, and Bessy has
nursed both it and me; and she trims it and trains it in such a manner,
that the flowery branches hang where I can see them, because she knows
how much I love the tree.
My aunt observed a little shelf of books in one corner, and asked if
Bessy could read, “Oh! yes, ma’am--I wonder the old man did not tell you
that, for many a time she has comforted us both, and indeed, often makes
me feel less pain, by reading to us. I taught her myself, when she was a
little creature, and I am sure I often wonder how any one can object to
the poor having the blessing of education. Why, it would do your heart
good, Ma’am, to hear her read the Bible, she reads it with such
piety--or a prayer or two, often out of her prayer book. We have a few
little stories too, that we like to hear again and again. The Blind
Farmer--and the History of Wilcocks--and a pretty tale called Simple
Susan--in short, madam, though I am always a suffering, poor creature,
and though we sometimes are supperless, we are still happy, and it is
all owing to that grateful good Bessy.”
But I must tell you, Mamma, about Franklin. He has really given up a
great deal for her sake: he might have been in a much richer way had he
remained in America; but then, he says, what good would it all have been
to him away from his Bessy! They are to be married next week; and my
aunt, and all of us, are preparing different articles of dress or
furniture, that may be useful presents to them. My uncle suggested some
little alterations in the arrangement of the house, so as to make room,
at present, for the Franklins; and he offered to assist them next spring
in making it still more comfortable.
There is a farm to be let--not very good ground, but well situated, and
about half way between Fernhurst and the old man’s cottage. My uncle has
hopes of procuring it for the Franklins; and I am sure it will be an
advantage to them to be near my uncle, his advice is so useful, and he
knows so much about every thing.
Some of the land is like forest ground, and has neither been fenced nor
drained; but Franklin says he will gradually bring it into cultivation.
I am in hopes I shall have many a pleasant walk there with my uncle; and
then I shall have a good opportunity of seeing the whole process of
farming.
How benevolent my uncle and aunt are! they are as much interested about
Bessy as if they had always known her; and my uncle’s manner is so kind
and so cheerful, that he raises the spirits of the poor old couple
whenever they see him.
_16th._--My cousins are such gardeners, particularly Mary and Wentworth,
that they have made me wish to become one too. Caroline is not so fond
of gardening as the others, though she has some very pretty flowers, and
labours a good deal. She has given a large portion of her garden to
little Frederick, who is her particular charge. He calls himself her
little boy, and he is so indeed, for she teaches him most of what he
learns, reads with him, and makes herself quite his companion.
When we were gathering a few still lingering roses to-day in Mary’s
garden, I said that I began to think that I should like to manage a
little garden as well as they did.
“Huzza!” exclaimed Wentworth and Frederick; “I knew she would become one
of us at last.”
“Oh yes,” said Mary; “I have been expecting this; I always knew that
Bertha was not really indolent. Now she will no longer sigh after
The coffee plains, the orange groves,
And flow’ry vales she so much loves.”
“And now,” said Frederick, “to encourage the poor child, we must give
her a little bit of ground rent free. I will give her a bed in my
territory.”