CHAPTER VI.

The Constellations--Distance from the Earth--The Magnet and its

Powers--The Compass--The Greenlanders and their Customs--The

Telescope--The Magic Lantern--Story of the African Prince and the

Telescope--Mr Barlow's Poor Parishioners--His Annual Dinner--Tommy

attempts Sledge Driving--His mishap in the Pond--His Anger.

And now the frost had continued for several weeks, and Tommy had taken

advantage of the evenings, which generally proved clear and star-light,

to improve his knowledge of the heavens. He had already ornamented his

paper globe with several of the most remarkable constellations. Around

the Pole-star he had discovered Perseus and Andromeda, and Cepheus and

Cassiopeia's Chair. Between these and the bright Orion, which rose every

night and glittered in the south, he discovered seven small stars that

were set in a cluster, and called the Pleiades. Then, underneath Orion,

he discovered another glittering star, called Sirius, or the Dog-star.

All these, he continually observed, journeyed every night from east to

west, and then appeared the evening after in their former places. "How

strange it is," observed Tommy, one day to Mr Barlow, "that all these

stars should be continually turning about the earth!"

"How do you know," replied Mr Barlow, "that they turn at all?"

_Tommy._--Because I see them move every night.

_Mr Barlow._--But how are you sure that it is the stars which move every

night, and not the earth itself?

Tommy considered, and said, "But then I should see the earth move, and

the stars stand still."

_Mr Barlow._--What, did you never ride in a coach?

_Tommy._--Yes, sir, very often.

_Mr Barlow._--And did you then see that the coach moved, as you sat

still, and went along a level road?

_Tommy._--No, sir; I protest I have often thought that the houses and

trees, and all the country, glided swiftly along by the windows of the

coach.

_Mr Barlow._--And did you never sail in a boat?

_Tommy._--Yes, I have; and I protest I have observed the same thing; for

I remember I have often thought the shore was running away from the

boat, instead of the boat from the shore.

_Mr Barlow._--If that is the case, it is possible, even though the earth

should move, instead of the stars, that you might only see what you do

at present, and imagine that the earth you are upon was at rest.

_Tommy._--But is it not more likely that such little things as the stars

and the sun should move, than such a large thing as the earth?

_Mr Barlow._--And how do you know that the stars and sun are so small?

_Tommy._--I see them to be so, sir. The stars are so small, that they

are hardly to be seen at all; and the sun itself, which is much bigger,

does not seem bigger than a small round table.

The day after this conversation, as the weather was bright and clear, Mr

Barlow went out to walk with Harry and Tommy. As by this time Tommy was

inured to fatigue, and able to walk many miles, they continued their

excursion over the hills, till at last they came in sight of the sea. As

they were diverting themselves with the immense prospect of water that

was before them, Mr Barlow perceived something floating at a distance,

so small as to be scarcely discernible by the eye. He pointed it out to

Tommy, who with some difficulty was able to distinguish it, and asked

him what he thought it was.

Tommy answered that he imagined it to be some little fishing-boat, but

could not well tell, on account of the distance.

_Mr Barlow._--If you do not then see a ship, what is it you do see? or

what does that object appear to your eyes?

_Tommy._--All that I can see is no more than a little dusky speck, which

seems to grow bigger and bigger.

_Mr Barlow._--And what is the reason it grows bigger and bigger?

_Tommy._--Because it comes nearer and nearer to me.

_Mr Barlow._--What, then, does the same thing sometimes appear small and

sometimes great?

_Tommy._--Yes, sir; it seems small when it is at a great distance; for I

have observed even houses and churches when you are at some miles'

distance, seem to the eye very small indeed; and now I observe that the

vessel is sailing towards us, and it is not, as I imagined, a little

fishing-boat, but a ship with a mast, for I begin to distinguish the

sails.

Mr Barlow walked on a little while by the side of the sea, and presently

Tommy called out again: "I protest I was mistaken again; for it is not a

vessel with one mast, as I thought a little while ago, but a fine large

ship with three great masts, and all her sails before the wind. I

believe she must either be a large merchantman or else a frigate."

_Mr Barlow._--Will you then take notice of what you have now been

saying? What was first only a little dusky speck became a vessel with

one mast, and now this vessel with one mast plainly appears a ship of a

very large size, with all her masts and sails, and rigging complete. Yet

all these three appearances are only the same object at different

distances from your eye.

_Tommy._--Yes, sir; that is all very true indeed.

_Mr Barlow._--Why, then, if the ship, which is now, full in sight, were

to tack about again, and sail away from us as fast as she approached

just now what do you think would happen?

_Tommy._--It would grow less and less every minute, till it appeared a

speck again.

_Mr Barlow._--You said, I think, that the sun was a very small body, not

bigger than a round table?

_Tommy._--Yes, sir.

_Mr Barlow._--Supposing, then, the sun were to be removed to a much

greater distance than it is now, what would happen? Would it appear the

same to your eyes?

Tommy considered some time, and then said, "If the ship grows less and

less, till at last it appears a mere speck, by going farther and

farther, I should think the sun would do the same."

_Mr Barlow._--There you are perfectly right; therefore, if the sun were

to depart farther and farther from us, at last it would appear no bigger

than one of those twinkling stars that you see at so great a distance

above your head.

_Tommy._--That I perfectly comprehend.

_Mr Barlow._--But if, on the contrary, one of those twinkling stars were

to approach nearer and nearer to where you stand, what do think would

happen? Would it still appear of the same size?

_Tommy._--No, sir. The ship, as it came nearer to us, appeared every

moment larger, and therefore I think the star must do the same.

_Mr Barlow._--Might it not then appear as big as the sun now does, just

as the sun would dwindle away to the size of a star, were it to be

removed to a still greater distance?

_Tommy._--Indeed I think it might.

_Mr Barlow._--What, then, do you imagine must happen, could the sun

approach a great deal nearer to us? Would its size remain the same?

_Tommy._--No; I plainly see that it must appear bigger and bigger the

nearer it comes.

_Mr Barlow._--If that is the case, it is not so very certain that the

earth we inhabit is bigger than the sun and stars. They are at a very

great distance from us; therefore, if anybody could go from the earth

towards the sun, how do you think the earth would appear to him as he

journeyed on?

_Tommy._--Really I can hardly tell.

_Mr Barlow._--No! Why, is it not the same thing, whether an object goes

from you, or you from the object? Is there any difference between the

ship sailing away from us, and our walking away from the ship?

_Tommy._--No, sir.

_Mr Barlow._--Did you not say that if the sun could be removed farther

from our eyes, it would appear less?

_Tommy._--To be sure it would.

_Mr Barlow._--Why, then, if the earth were to sink down from under our

feet, lower and lower, what would happen? Would it have the same

appearance?

_Tommy._--No, sir; I think it must appear less and less, like the ship

that is sailing away.

_Mr Barlow._--Very right, indeed; but now attend to what I asked you

just now. If a person could rise slowly into the air, and mount still

higher and higher towards the sun, what would happen?

_Tommy._--Why the same as if the earth were to sink from under us; it

would appear less and less.

_Mr Barlow._--Might not the earth then at least appear as small as the

sun or moon does?

_Tommy._--I can hardly conceive that, and yet I see it would appear less

and less the farther we went.

_Mr Barlow._--Do you remember what happened to you when you left the

island of Jamaica?

_Tommy._--Yes, I do. One of the blacks held me upon the deck, and then I

looked towards the island, and I thought that it began to move away from

the ship, though in reality it was the ship moving away from the land;

and then, as the ship continued sailing along the water, the island

appeared less and less. First, I lost sight of the trees and houses that

stood on the shore; and then I could only see the highest mountains; and

then I could scarcely see the mountains themselves; and at last the

whole island appeared only like a dark mist above the water; and then

the mist itself disappeared, and I could see nothing but a vast extent

of water all round, and the sky above.

_Mr Barlow._--And must not this be exactly the case if you could rise up

into the air, higher and higher, and look down upon the earth?

_Tommy._--Indeed it must.

_Mr Barlow._--Now, then, you will be able to answer the question I asked

you a little while ago: Could a person travel straight forward from the

earth to the sun, how would they both appear to him as he went forward?

_Tommy._--The earth would appear less and less as he went from it, and

the sun bigger and bigger.

_Mr Barlow._--Why, then, perhaps it would happen at last that the sun

appeared bigger than the earth.

_Tommy._--Indeed it might.

_Mr Barlow._--Then you see that you must no longer talk of the earth's

being large and the sun small, since that may only happen because you

are nearer the one and at a great distance from the other; at least, you

may now be convinced that both the sun and stars must be immensely

bigger than you would at first sight guess them to be.

As they were returning home they happened to pass through a small town

on their way, and saw a crowd of people going into a house, which gave

Mr Barlow the curiosity to inquire the reason. They were told that there

was a wonderful person there who performed a variety of strange and

diverting experiments. On Tommy's expressing a great desire to see these

curious exhibitions, Mr Barlow took them both in, and they all seated

themselves among the audience.

Presently the performer began his exhibitions, which very much diverted

Tommy, and surprised the spectators. At length after a variety of

curious tricks upon the cards, the conjuror desired them to observe a

large basin of water, with the figure of a little swan floating upon the

surface. "Gentlemen," said the man, "I have reserved this curious

experiment for the last, because it is the most wonderful of all that I

have to show, or that, perhaps, was ever exhibited to the present hour.

You see that swan, it is no more than a little image, without either

sense or life. If you have any doubt upon the subject, take it up in

your hands and examine it." Accordingly, several of the spectators took

it up in their hands, and, after having examined it, set it down upon

the water. "Now," continued he, "this swan, which to you appears totally

without sense or motion, is of so extraordinary a nature that he knows

me, his master, and will follow in any direction that I command." Saying

this, he took out a little piece of bread, and whistling to his bird,

ordered him to come to the side of the basin to be fed. Immediately, to

the great surprise of all the company, the swan turned about and swam to

the side of the basin. The man whistled again, and presently the swan

turned himself round and pursued the hand of his master to the other

side of the basin.

The spectators could hardly believe their eyes, and some of them got

little pieces of bread, and held them out, imagining that he would do

the same to them. But it was in vain they whistled and presented their

bread; the bird remained unmoved upon the water, and obeyed no orders

but those of his master.

When this exhibition had been repeated over and over again, to the

extreme delight and astonishment of all present, the company rose and

dispersed, and Mr Barlow and the little boys pursued their way home.

But Tommy's mind was so engaged with what he had seen, that for several

days he could think and talk of nothing else. He would give all that he

had in the world to find out this curious trick, and to be possessed of

such a swan. At length, as he was one day talking to Harry upon this

subject, Harry told him with a smile, that he believed he had found out

a method of doing it, and that, if he did not mistake, he would the next

day show him a swan that would come to be fed as well as the conjuror's.

Accordingly, Harry moulded a bit of wax into the shape of a swan, and

placed it upon a basin of water. He then presented to it a piece of

bread, and, to the inexpressible delight of Tommy, the swan pursued the

bread, just as he had seen before.

After he had several times diverted himself with this experiment, he

wanted to be informed of the composition of this wonderful swan. Harry

therefore showed him, within the body of the bird, a large needle,

which lay across it from one end to the other. In the bread with which

the swan was fed, he also showed him concealed a small bar of iron.

Tommy could not comprehend all this, although he saw it before his eyes;

but Mr Barlow, who was present, taking up the bar of iron, and putting

down several needles upon the table, Tommy was infinitely surprised to

see the needles all jump up, one after another, at the approach of the

bar, and shoot towards it, as if they had been possessed of life and

sense. They then hung all about the bar so firmly, that, though it was

lifted into the air, they all remained suspended, nor ever quitted their

hold. Mr Barlow then placed a key upon the table, and putting the iron

near it, the key attached itself as firmly to the bar as the needles had

done before. All this appeared so surprising to Tommy, that he begged an

explanation of it from Mr Barlow. That gentleman told him, "that there

was a stone often found in iron mines, that was called the _loadstone_.

This stone is naturally possessed of the surprising power of drawing to

itself all pieces of iron that are not too large, nor placed at too

great a distance. But what is equally extraordinary is, that iron

itself, after having been rubbed upon the loadstone, acquires the same

virtue as the stone itself, of attracting other iron. For this purpose

they take small bars of iron, and rub them carefully upon the loadstone,

and when they have acquired this very extraordinary power, they call

them _magnets_. When Harry had seen the exhibition of the swan, upon

revolving it over in his mind, he began to suspect that it was

performed entirely by the power of magnetism. Upon his talking to me

about the affair, I confirmed him in his opinion, and furnished him with

a small magnet to put into the bread, and a large needle to conceal in

the body of the bird. So this is the explanation of the feat which so

much puzzled you a few days past."

Mr Barlow had scarcely done speaking, when Tommy observed another

curious property of the swan, which he had not found out before. This

bird, when left to itself, constantly rested in one particular

direction, and that direction was full north and south.

Tommy inquired the reason of this, and Mr Barlow gave him this

additional explanation: "The persons who first discovered the wonderful

powers of the loadstone, in communicating its virtues to iron, diverted

themselves, as we do now, in touching needles and small pieces of iron,

which they made to float upon water, and attracted them about with other

pieces of iron. But it was not long before they found out, as you do

now, another surprising property of this wonderful stone; they observed,

that when a needle had once been touched by the loadstone, if it was

left to float upon the water without restraint, it would invariably turn

itself towards the north. In a short time they improved the discovery

farther, and contrived to suspend the middle of the needle upon a point,

so loosely that it could move about in every direction; this they

covered with a glass case, and by this means they always had it in their

power to find out all the quarters of the heavens and earth."

_Tommy._--Was this discovery of any great use?

_Mr Barlow._--Before this time they had no other method of finding their

way along the sea, but by observing the stars. They knew, by experience,

in what part of the sky certain stars appeared at every season of the

year, and this enabled them to discover east, west, north, and south.

But when they set out from their own country by sea, they knew in which

direction the place was situated which they were going to. If it lay to

the east, they had only to keep the head of the ship turned full to that

quarter of the heavens, and they would arrive at the place they were

going to; and this they were enabled to do by observing the stars. But

frequently the weather was thick, and the stars no longer appeared, and

then they were left to wander about the pathless ocean without the

smallest track to guide them in their course.

_Tommy._--Poor people! they must be in a dreadful situation indeed,

tossed about on such an immense place as the sea, in the middle of a

dark night, and not able even to guess at their situation.

_Mr Barlow._--For this reason they seldom dared to venture out of sight

of the shore, for fear of losing their way, by which means all their

voyages were long and tedious; for they were obliged to make them

several times as long as they would have done, could they have taken the

straight and nearest way. But soon after the discovery of this admirable

property of the loadstone, they found that the needle, which had been

thus prepared, was capable of showing them the different points of the

heavens, even in the darkest night. This enabled them to sail with

greater security, and to venture boldly upon the immense ocean, which

they had always feared before.

_Tommy._--How extraordinary that a little stone should enable people to

cross the sea, and to find their way from one country to another! But I

wonder why they take all these pains.

_Mr Barlow._--That you need not wonder at, when you consider that one

country frequently produces what another does not; and therefore, by

exchanging their different commodities, the people of both may live more

conveniently than they did before.

_Harry._--But does not almost every country produce all that is

necessary to support the inhabitants of it? and therefore they might

live, I should think, even though they received nothing from any other

country.

_Mr Barlow._--So might your father live, perhaps, upon the productions

of his own farm, but he sometimes sells his cattle to purchase clothes;

sometimes his corn to purchase cattle. Then he frequently exchanges with

his neighbours one kind of grain for another, and thus their mutual

conveniency is better promoted than if each were to confine himself to

the produce of his own land. At the same time, it is true, that every

country which is inhabited by men, contains within itself all that is

necessary for their subsistence, and what they bring from other

countries is frequently more hurtful than salutary to them.

_Harry._--I have heard you say that even in Greenland, the coldest and

most uncomfortable country in the world, the inhabitants procure

themselves necessaries, and live contented.

_Tommy._--What! is there a part of the world still colder than Lapland?

_Mr Barlow._--Greenland is still farther north, and therefore colder and

more barren. The ground is there covered with eternal snows, which never

melt, even in the summer. There are scarcely any animals to be found,

excepting bears, that live by preying upon fish. There are no trees

growing upon any part of the country, so that the inhabitants have

nothing to build their houses with, excepting the planks and trees which

the sea washes away from other countries and leaves upon their coast.

With these they erect large cabins, where several families live

together. The sides of these huts are composed of earth and stones, and

the top secured with turf; in a short time the whole is so cemented with

frost, that it is impenetrable to the weather during the whole winter.

Along the sides of the building are made several partitions, in each of

which a Greenlander lives with his family. Each of these families have a

small lamp continually burning before them, by means of which they cook

their food, and light themselves, and, what is equally necessary in so

cold a country, keep up agreeable warmth throughout their apartment.

They have a few deer, which sometimes visit them in the summer, and

which the Greenlanders kill whenever they can catch them; but they are

almost entirely destitute of all the vegetables which serve as

nourishment to man, so that they are obliged to be continually upon the

sea, in order to catch fish for their maintenance.

_Tommy._--What a dreadful life that must be in a country which is so

cold!

_Mr Barlow._--In consequence of that extreme cold, those northern seas

are full of such immense quantities of ice, that they are sometimes

almost covered with them. Huge pieces come floating down, which are not

only as big as the largest houses, but even resemble small mountains.

These are sometimes dashed against each other by the winds, with such

immense force, that they would crush the strongest ship to pieces, and

with a noise that exceeds the report of a cannon. Upon these pieces of

ice are frequently seen white bears of an enormous size, which have

either fallen asleep upon them, and so been carried away, or have

straggled over those ice hills in search of fish.

_Tommy._--And is it possible that the inhabitants of such a country can

find enough in it for all their necessities?

_Mr Barlow._--The necessities of life are very few, and are therefore to

be found even in the most rugged climates, if men are not wanting to

themselves, or deficient in industry. In plentiful countries like this,

and in most of the more temperate climates, great numbers are maintained

in idleness, and imagine that they were only born to live upon the

labour of others; but, in such a country as Greenland is described to

be, it requires continual exertion to procure the simplest support of

human life; and therefore no one can live at all who will not employ

himself in the same manner as his neighbours.

_Tommy._--You said that these people had neither flesh nor corn; do they

then clothe themselves with the skins of fish, as well as live upon

them?

_Mr Barlow._--There is in those seas a peculiar species of animal called

a _seal_. He is nine or ten feet long, and has two small feet before, on

which he is able to walk a little upon the shore, for he frequently

comes out of the sea, and sleeps, or amuses himself upon the land or

ice. His body is very large, and full of oil, and behind he has two legs

which resemble fins, with which he swims in the water. This animal is

the constant prey of the Greenlander, and furnishes him with all he

wants. The flesh he eats, the fat serves him to feed his lamp, which is

almost as necessary as food itself in that cold climate. With the skin

he makes clothes that are impenetrable to the water, or lines the inside

of his hut to keep out the weather. As this animal is so necessary to

the existence of a Greenlander, it is his greatest glory to chase and

take him. For this purpose he places himself in a small narrow boat, the

top of which is covered over with the skins of seals, and closes round

the middle of the fisher so tight as entirely to exclude the water. He

has a long oar, or paddle, broad at both ends, which he dips first on

one side, then on the other, and rows along with incredible swiftness

over the roughest seas. He carries with him a harpoon, which is a kind

of lance or javelin, tied to a long thong, at the end of which is fixed

a bladder, or some other light thing that sinks with difficulty. When

the fisherman is thus prepared, he skims lightly along the waters, till

he perceives at a distance one of these animals floating upon the

surface. The Greenlander then approaches him as softly as he is able,

and, if possible, contrives that the animal shall have the wind and sun

in his eyes. When he is sufficiently near he throws his harpoon, and

generally wounds the creature, in which case he instantly hurries away,

and carries with him the thong and bladder. But it is not long before he

is compelled to rise again to the surface of the water to breathe; and

then the Greenlander, who has been pursuing him all the time, attacks

him anew, and dispatches him with a shorter lance, which he has brought

with him for that purpose. He then ties his prey to his boat, and tows

it after him to his family, who receive it with joy, and dress it for

their supper. Although these poor people live a life of such continual

fatigue, and are obliged to earn their food with so much hardship, they

are generous and hospitable in the management of it, for there is not a

person present but is invited to partake of the feast; and a Greenlander

would think himself dishonoured for life, if he should be thought

capable of wishing to keep it all to himself.

_Tommy._--I think it seems as if the less people had the more generous

they are with it.

_Mr Barlow._--That is not unfrequently the case, and should be a lesson

to many of our rich at home, who imagine that they have nothing to do

with their fortune but to throw it away upon their pleasures, while

there are so many thousands in want of the common necessaries of life.

_Tommy._--But, pray, sir, have you no more particulars to tell me about

these Greenlanders? for I think it is the most curious account I ever

heard in my life.

_Mr Barlow._--There is another very curious particular indeed to be

mentioned of these countries; in these seas is found the largest animal

in the world, an immense fish, which is called the whale.

_Tommy._--Oh dear! I have heard of that extraordinary animal. And pray,

sir, do the Greenlanders ever catch them?

_Mr Barlow._--The whale is of such a prodigious size, that he sometimes

reaches seventy or eighty, or even more than a hundred feet in length.

He is from ten to above twenty feet in height, and every way large in

proportion. When he swims along the seas, he appears rather like a large

vessel floating upon the waters than a fish. He has two holes in his

head, through which he blows out water to a great height in the air,

immense fins, and a tail with which he almost raises a tempest when he

lashes the sea with it. Would you not believe that such an animal was

the most dreadful of the whole brute creation?

_Tommy._--Indeed, sir, I should! I should think that such a fish would

overset whole ships, and devour the sailors.

_Mr Barlow._--Far from it; it is one of the most innocent in respect to

man that the ocean produces, nor does he ever do him the least hurt,

unless by accidentally overturning vessels with his enormous bulk. The

food he lives upon is chiefly small fish, and particularly herrings.

These fish are bred in such prodigious shoals amid the ice of those

northern climates, that the sea is absolutely covered with them for

miles together. Then it is that the hungry whale pursues them, and thins

their numbers, by swallowing thousands of them in their course.

_Harry._--What numbers indeed must such a prodigious fish devour of

these small animals!

_Mr Barlow._--The whale, in his turn, falls a prey to the cruelty and

avarice of man. Some indeed are caught by the Greenlanders, who have a

sufficient excuse for persecuting him with continual attacks, in their

total want of vegetables, and every species of food which the earth

affords. But the Europeans, who are too nice and squeamish to eat his

flesh, send out great numbers of ships, every year, to destroy the poor

whale, merely for the sake of the oil which his body contains, and the

elastic bones which are known by the name of whalebone, and applied to

several purposes. When those who go upon this dangerous expedition

discern a whale floating at a distance, they instantly send out a large

boat to pursue him. Some of the men row along as gently as possible,

while the person that is appointed to attack the fish stands upon the

forepart of the boat, holding in his hand a sharp harpoon, with which he

is prepared to wound his prey. This is fastened to a long cord which

lies ready coiled up in the boat, so that they may let it out in an

instant, when the fish is struck; for such is his prodigious force,

that, should the least impediment occur to stop the rope in its passage,

he would instantly draw the boat after him down to the bottom of the

sea. In order to prevent these dangerous accidents, a man stands

constantly ready to divide the rope with a hatchet, in case it should

happen to tangle; and another is continually pouring water over it for

fear the swiftness of the motion should make it take fire. The poor

whale, being thus wounded, darts away with inconceivable rapidity, and

generally plunges to the bottom of the sea. The men have a prodigious

quantity of cord ready to let out, and when their store is exhausted

there are generally other boats ready to supply more. Thus is the poor

animal overpowered and killed, in spite of his immense bulk and

irresistible strength; for, gradually wearied with his own efforts and

the loss of blood, he soon relaxes in his speed, and rises again to the

top of the water. Then it is that the fishers, who have pursued him all

the time with the hopes of such an opportunity, approach him anew, and

attack him with fresh harpoons, till in the end his strength is entirely

exhausted, the waves themselves are tinged with a bloody colour from his

innumerable wounds, and he writhes himself about in strong convulsions

and unutterable pain. Then the conflict is soon at an end; in a short

time he breathes his last, and turning upon his back, floats like some

large vessel upon the surface of the sea. The fishers then approach, and

cut off the fins and other valuable parts, which they stow on board

their ships; the fat, or blubber, as it is often called, is received

into large hogsheads, and when boiled, to purify it, composes the common

oil, which is applied to so many useful purposes. The remains of this

vast body are left a prey to other fish and to the Greenlanders, who

carefully collect every fragment which they can find, and apply it to

their own use. Sometimes they go to pursue the whale themselves, but

when they do, it is in large numbers, and they attack him nearly in the

same manner as the Europeans do, only, as they are not so well supplied

with cord, they fix the skins of seals, which they have inflated with

air, to the end of the thongs which are tied to their harpoons, and this

serves both to weary out the fish, who drags them with him under the

water, and to discover him the instant he approaches to the surface.

_Harry._--I cannot help pitying the poor whale that is thus persecuted

for the sake of his spoils. Why cannot man let this poor beast live

unmolested in the midst of the snows and ice in which he was born?

_Mr Barlow._--You ought to know enough of the world to be sensible that

the desire of gain will tempt men upon every expedition. However, in

this case you must consider that the whale himself is continually

supported by murdering thousands of herrings and other small fish; so

that, were they possessed of reason, they would welcome the Europeans,

who came to destroy their enemies, as friends and benefactors.

_Tommy._--But pray, sir, how do the little boys amuse themselves in such

a dismal country? Do their fathers take them out a-fishing with them?

_Mr Barlow._--When the men come home all covered with wet and icicles,

and sit down comfortably in their huts to feast upon the prey, their

common conversation is about the dangers and accidents they have met

with in their expedition. A Greenlander relates how he bounded over the

waves to surprise the monstrous seal; how he pierced the animal with his

harpoon, who had nearly dragged the boat with him under the water; how

he attacked him again in closer combat; how the beast, enraged with his

wounds, rushed upon him in order to destroy him with his teeth; and how,

in the end, by courage and perseverance, he triumphed over his

adversary, and brought it safe to land. All this will he relate with the

vehemence and interest which people naturally feel for things which

concern them nearly; he stands in the midst of his countrymen, and

describes every minute circumstance of his adventures; the little

children gather round, and greedily catch the relation; they feel

themselves interested in every circumstance; they hear, and wish to

share in the toils and glory of their fathers. When they are a little

bigger they exercise themselves in small skiffs, with which they learn

to overcome the waves. Nothing can be more dangerous, or require greater

dexterity than the management of a Greenlander's boat. The least thing

will overset it, and then, the man who cannot disengage himself from the

boat, which is fastened to his middle, sinks down below the waves, and

is inevitably drowned, if he cannot regain his balance. The only hope of

doing this, is placed in the proper application of his oar, and,

therefore, the dexterous management of this implement forms the early

study of the young Greenlanders. In their sportive parties they row

about in a thousand different manners. They dive under their boats, and

then set them to rights with their paddle; they learn to glide over the

roughest billows, and face the greatest dangers with intrepidity, till

in the end they acquire sufficient strength and address to fish for

themselves, and to be admitted into the class of men.

_Harry._--Pray, sir, is this the country where men travel about upon

sledges that are drawn by dogs?

_Tommy._--Upon sledges drawn by dogs! that must be droll indeed. I had

no idea that dogs could ever draw carriages.

_Mr Barlow._--The country you are speaking of is called Kamtschatka; it

is indeed a cold and dreary country, but very distant from Greenland.

The inhabitants there train up large dogs, which they harness to a

sledge, upon which the master sits, and so performs his journey along

the snow and ice. All the summer the Kamtschatkans turn their dogs loose

to shift for themselves, and prey upon the remains of fish which they

find upon the shore or the banks of the rivers (for fish is the common

food of all the inhabitants); in the winter they assemble their dogs and

use them for the purposes I have mentioned. They have no reins to govern

the dogs, or stop them in their course, but the driver sits upon his

sledge, and keeps himself as steady as he is able, holding in his hand a

short stick, which he throws at the dogs if they displease him, and

catches again with great dexterity as he passes. This way of travelling

is not without danger, for the temper of the dogs is such, that when

they descend hills and slippery places, and pass through woods where the

driver is exposed to wound himself with the branches and stumps, they

always quicken their pace. The same is observed in case their master

should fall off, which they instantly discover by the sudden lightness

of the carriage, for then they set off at such a rate that it is

difficult to overtake them. The only way which the Kamtschatcan finds,

is to throw himself at his length upon the ground, and lay hold on the

empty sledge, suffering himself to be thus dragged along the earth, till

the dogs, through weariness, abate their speed. Frequently in their

journeys these travellers are surprised by unexpected storms of wind and

snow, which render it impracticable to proceed farther. How ill would an

European fare, to be thus abandoned, at the distance perhaps of a

hundred miles or more, from any habitable place, exposed, without

shelter, in the midst of extensive plains, and unable to procure either

wood or fire. But the hardy native of these cold climates, inured from

his infancy to support difficulties, and almost superior to the

elements, seeks the shelter of the first forest he can find; then,

wrapping himself round in his warm fur garment, he sits with his legs

under him, and, thus bundled up, suffers himself to be covered round

with snow, except a small hole which he leaves for the convenience of

breathing. In this manner he lies, with his dogs around him, who assist

in keeping him warm, sometimes for several days, till the storm is past,

and the roads again become passable, so that he may be able to pursue

his journey again.

[Illustration: "Frequently in their journeys these travellers are

surprised by unexpected storms of wind and snow, which render it

impracticable to proceed farther." _P. 278._]

_Tommy._--I could not have conceived it possible that men should be able

to struggle with so many hardships. But do not the poor people who

inhabit these cold climates quit them, whenever they can find an

opportunity, and come to settle in those that are warmer?

_Mr Barlow._--Not in the least. When they hear that there are no seals

to be caught in other countries, they say that they must be wretched

indeed, and much inferior to their own. Besides, they have in general

so great a contempt for all Europeans, that they have no inclination to

visit the countries which they inhabit.

_Tommy._--How can that be? How can a parcel of wretched ignorant savages

despise men that are so much superior to themselves?

_Mr Barlow._--This is not what they are quite so well convinced of. The

Greenlanders, for instance, see that the Europeans who visit them are

much inferior to themselves in the art of managing a boat or catching

seals; in short, in everything which they find most useful to support

life. For this reason, they consider them all with very great contempt,

and look upon them as little better than barbarians.

_Tommy._--That is very impertinent indeed; and I should like to convince

them of their folly.

_Mr Barlow._--Why, do not you look upon yourself as much superior to

your black servants; and have I not often heard you express great

contempt for them?

_Tommy._--I do not despise them now, so much as I used to do. Besides,

sir, I only think myself something better, because I have been brought

up like a gentleman.

_Mr Barlow._--A gentleman! I have never exactly understood what a

gentleman is, according to your notions.

_Tommy._--Why, sir, when a person is not brought up to work, and has

several people to wait upon him, like my father and mother, then he is a

gentleman.

_Mr Barlow._--And then he has a right to despise others, has he?

_Tommy._--I do not say that, sir, neither. But he is, however, superior

to them.

_Mr Barlow._--Superior, in what? In the art of cultivating the ground to

raise food, and making clothes or houses?

_Tommy._--No, sir, not that; for gentlemen never plough the ground or

build houses.

_Mr Barlow._--Is he then superior in knowledge? Were you, who have been

brought up a gentleman, superior to all the rest of the world when you

came here?

_Tommy._--To be sure, sir; when I came here I did not know so much as I

do now.

_Mr Barlow._--If then you, when you knew nothing, and could do nothing,

thought yourself superior to all the rest of the world, why should you

wonder, that men who really excel others in those things which they see

absolutely necessary, should have the same good opinion of themselves?

Were you to be in Greenland, for instance, how would you prove your own

superiority and importance?

_Tommy._--I would tell them that I had always been well brought up at

home.

_Mr Barlow._--That they would not believe. They would say that they saw

you were totally unable to do anything useful--to guide a boat; to swim

the seas; to procure yourself the least sustenance--so that you would

perish with hunger, if they did not charitably afford you now and then a

bit of whale or seal; and, as to your being a gentleman, they would not

understand the word, nor would they comprehend why one man, who is

naturally as good as his fellow-creature, should submit to the caprice

of another, and obey him.

_Tommy._--Indeed, sir, I begin to think that I am not so much better

than others, as I used to do.

_Mr Barlow._--The more you encourage that thought the more likely you

are to acquire real superiority and excellence, for great and generous

minds are less exposed to that ridiculous vanity than weak and childish

ones.

A few evenings after this conversation, when the night was remarkably

clear, Mr Barlow called his two pupils into the garden, where there was

a long hollow tube suspended upon a frame. Mr Barlow then placed Tommy

upon a chair, and bade him look through it, which he had scarcely done

when he cried out, "What an extraordinary sight is this!" "What is the

matter?" said Mr Barlow. "I see," replied Tommy, "what I should take for

the moon were it not a great many times bigger, and so near to me that I

can almost touch it." "What you see," answered Mr Barlow, smiling, "is

the moon itself. This glass has indeed the power of making it appear to

your eye as it would do could you approach a great deal nearer; but

still it is nothing but the moon; and from this single experiment you

may judge of the different size which the sun and all the other heavenly

bodies would appear to have, if you could advance a great deal nearer to

them."

Tommy was delighted with this new spectacle. The moon, he said, viewed

in this manner, was the most glorious sight he had ever seen in his

life. "And I protest," added he, "it seems to be shaded in such a

manner, that it almost resembles land and water." "What you say,"

answered Mr Barlow, "is by no means unreasonable. The moon is a very

large body, and may be, for ought we know, inhabited like the earth."

Tommy was more and more astonished at the introduction of all these new

ideas; but what he was particularly inquisitive about was, to know the

reason of this extraordinary change in the appearance of objects, only

by looking through a hollow tube with a bit of glass fixed into it. "All

this," replied Mr Barlow, "I will, if you desire it, one day explain to

you; but it is rather too long and difficult to undertake it at the

present moment. When you are a little farther advanced in some of the

things which you are now studying, you will comprehend me better.

However, before we retire to-night, I will show you something more,

which will perhaps equally surprise you."

They then returned to the house, and Mr Barlow, who had prepared

everything for his intended exhibition, led Tommy into a room, where he

observed nothing but a lantern upon the floor, and a white sheet hung up

against the wall. Tommy laughed, and said he did not see anything very

curious in all that. "Well," said Mr Barlow, "perhaps I may surprise you

yet, before I have done; let us at least light up the lantern, that you

may see a little clearer."

Mr Barlow then lighted a lamp which was within the lantern, and

extinguished all the other candles; and Tommy was instantly struck with

astonishment to see a gigantic figure of a man, leading along a large

bear, appear upon the wall, and glide slowly along the sheet. As he was

admiring this wonderful sight, a large monkey, dressed up in the habit

of a man, appeared and followed the bear; after him came an old woman

trundling a barrow of fruit, and then two boys (who, however, were as

big as men) that seemed to be fighting as they passed.

Tommy could hardly find words to express his pleasure and admiration,

and he entreated Mr Barlow in the most earnest manner to explain to him

the reason of all these wonderful sights. "At present," said Mr Barlow,

"you are not sufficiently advanced to comprehend the explanation.

However, thus much I will inform you, that both the wonderful tube which

showed you the moon so much larger than you ever saw it before, and this

curious exhibition of to-night, and a variety of others, which I will

hereafter show you, if you desire it, depend entirely upon such a little

bit of glass as this." Mr Barlow then put into his hand a small round

piece of glass, which resembled the figure of a globe on both sides. "It

is by looking through such pieces of glass as this," said he, "and by

arranging them in a particular manner, that we are enabled to perform

all these wonders." "Well," said Tommy, "I never could have believed,

that simply looking through a bit of glass could have made such a

difference in the appearance of things." "And yet," said Mr Barlow,

"looking at a thing through water alone, is capable of producing the

greatest change, as I will immediately prove to you." Mr Barlow then

took a small earthen basin, and, putting a half-crown at the bottom,

desired Tommy gradually to go back, still looking at the basin, till he

could distinguish the piece of money no longer. Tommy accordingly

retired, and presently cried out, that, "he had totally lost sight of

the money." "Then," said Mr Barlow, "I will enable you to see it, merely

by putting water into it." So he gradually poured water into the basin,

till, to the new astonishment of Tommy, he found that he could plainly

see the half-crown, which was before invisible.

Tommy was wonderfully delighted with all these experiments, and declared

that from this day forward, he would never rest till he had made himself

acquainted with everything curious in every branch of knowledge.

"I remember reading a story," said Mr Barlow, "where a telescope (for

that is the name of the glass which brings distant objects so much

nearer to the eye) was used to a very excellent purpose indeed." "Pray,

how was that?" said Tommy.

"In some part of Africa," said Mr Barlow, "there was a prince who was

attacked by one of his most powerful neighbours, and almost driven out

of his dominions. He had done everything he could do to defend himself

with the greatest bravery, but was overpowered by the numbers of his

enemy, and defeated in several battles. At length he was reduced to a

very small number of brave men, who still accompanied him, and had taken

possession of a steep and difficult hill, which he determined to defend

to the last extremity, while the enemy was in possession of all the

country round. While he lay with his little army in this disagreeable

situation, he was visited by a European, whom he had formerly received

and treated with the greatest kindness. To this man the unfortunate

prince made his complaints, telling him that he was exposed every

instant to be attacked by his stronger foe; and though he had taken his

resolution he expected nothing but to be cut off with all his army.

"The European happened to have with him one of these curious glasses,

which had not long been invented in Europe, and was totally unknown in

that part of the globe; and he told the prince, his friend, that he

would soon inform him of what his enemy was doing, and then he might

take his own measures with the greater confidence. So he produced his

glass, and after having adjusted it, turned it towards the enemy's camp,

which he observed some time with great attention, and then told his

friend that he might at least be easy for the present, for the enemy's

general was at that instant thinking only of a great feast, which he was

giving to the officers of his army. 'How is it possible,' replied the

prince, 'that you can pretend to discover so accurately what is done in

yonder camp? My eyes, I think, are at least as good as yours; and yet

the distance is so great, that I can discover nothing distinctly.' The

European then desired his friend to look through the telescope, which he

had no sooner done, than he rose in great trepidation, and was going to

mount his horse; for the spectacle was so new to him, that he imagined

the enemy was close to him, and that nothing remained but to stand upon

his defence. The European could not help smiling at this mistake; and

after he had with some difficulty removed his panic, by explaining the

wonderful powers of the glass, he prevailed upon him to be quiet.

"But the unexpected terror which this telescope had excited inspired him

with a sudden thought, which he determined to improve to the advantage

of the besieged prince. Acquainting him therefore with his intention, he

desired him to draw out all his men in their military array, and to let

them descend the mountain slowly, clashing their arms and waving their

swords as they marched. He then mounted a horse, and rode to the enemy's

camp, where he no sooner arrived than he desired to be instantly

introduced to the general. He found him sitting in his tent carousing in

the midst of his officers, and not at all thinking of an engagement.

When he approached he thus accosted him; 'I am come, great warrior, as a

friend, to acquaint you with a circumstance that is absolutely necessary

to the safety of yourself and army.' 'What is that?' said the general,

with some surprise. 'At this instant,' replied the European, 'while you

are indulging yourself in festivity, the enemy, who has lately been

reinforced with a large body of his most valiant troops, is advancing to

attack you, and even now has almost penetrated to your camp.' 'I have

here,' added he, 'a wonderful glass, the composition of which is only

known in Europe, and if you will condescend to look through it for a

moment, it will convince you that all I say is truth.' Saying this, he

directed his eye to the telescope, which the general had no sooner

looked into than he was struck with consternation and affright. He saw

the prince, whom he had long considered as lying at his mercy, advancing

with his army in excellent order, and, as he imagined, close to his

camp. He could even discern the menacing air of the soldiers, and the

brandishing of their swords as they moved. His officers, who thronged

round him to know the cause of his sudden fright, had no sooner peeped

into the wonderful glass than they were all affected in the same manner.

Their heads had been already disturbed by their intemperance, and

therefore, without waiting to consult, they rushed in a panic out of

their tents, mounted their swiftest horses, and fled away, without

staying to see the consequences. The rest of the army, who had seen the

consternation of their leaders, and had heard that the enemy was

advancing to destroy them, were struck with an equal panic, and

instantly followed the example, so that the whole plain was covered with

men and horses, that made all possible haste towards their own country,

without thinking of resistance. Thus was an immense army dispersed in an

instant, and the besieged prince delivered from his danger by the

address and superior knowledge of a single man."

"Thus you see," added Mr Barlow, "of how much use a superiority of

knowledge is frequently capable of making individuals. But a still more

famous instance is that of Archimedes, one of the most celebrated

mathematicians of his time. He, when the city of Syracuse was besieged

by the Romans, defended it for a long time by the surprising machines he

invented, in such a manner that they began to despair of taking it." "Do

pray," said Tommy, "tell me that story." "No," answered Mr Barlow, "it

is now time to retire, and you may at any time read the particulars of

this extraordinary siege in 'Plutarch's life of Marcellus.'"

And now the time approached when Mr Barlow was accustomed to invite

greater part of the poor of his parish to an annual dinner. He had a

large hall, which was almost filled with men, women, and children, a

cheerful fire blazed in the chimney, and a prodigious table was placed

in the middle for the company to dine upon. Mr Barlow himself received

his guests, and conversed with them about the state of their families

and their affairs. Those that were industrious, and brought their

children up to labour, instructing them in the knowledge of their duty,

and preserving them from bad impressions, were sure to meet with his

encouragement and commendations. Those that had been ill he assisted

with such little necessaries as tended to alleviate their pains, and

diffuse a gleam of cheerfulness over their sufferings. "How hard," he

would say, "is the lot of the poor when they are afflicted with

sickness! How intolerable do _we_ find the least bodily disorder, even

though we possess every convenience that can mitigate its violence! Not

all the dainties which can be collected from all the elements, the

warmth of downy beds and silken couches, the attendance of obsequious

dependants, are capable of making us bear with common patience the most

common disease; how pitiable, then, must be the state of a

fellow-creature, who is at once tortured by bodily suffering, and

destitute of every circumstance which can alleviate it; who sees around

him a family that are not only incapable of assisting their parents,

but destined to want the common necessaries of life, the moment he

intermits his daily labours! How indispensable, then, is the obligation

which should continually impel the rich to exert themselves in assisting

their fellow-creatures, and rendering that condition of life which we

all avoid less dreadful to those who must support it always!"

Acting from such principles as these, Mr Barlow was the common friend of

all the species. Whatever his fortune would allow him to perform he

never refused to all who stood in need of his assistance. But there is

yet a duty which he thought of more importance than the mere

distribution of property to the needy--the encouragement of industry and

virtue among the poor, and giving them juster notions of morals and

religion. "If we have a dog," he would say, "we refuse neither pains nor

expense to train him up to hunting; if we have a horse, we send him to

an experienced rider to be bitted; but our own species seems to be the

only animal which is entirely exempted from our care." When he rode

about the country he used to consider with admiration the splendid

stables which the great construct for the reception of their horses,

their ice-houses, temples, hermitages, grottoes, and all the apparatus

of modern vanity. "All this," he would say, "is an unequivocal proof the

gentleman loves himself, and grudges no expense that can gratify his

vanity; but I would now wish to see what he has done for his

fellow-creatures; what are the proofs that he has given of public spirit

or humanity, the wrongs which he has redressed, the miseries he has

alleviated, the abuses which he has endeavoured to remove!"

When he was told of the stubbornness and ingratitude of the poor, he

used to say, "that he believed it without difficulty, for they were men

in common with their superiors, and therefore must share in some of

their vices; but if the interests of humanity were half so dear to us as

the smallest article that pleases our palate or flatters our vanity, we

should not so easily abandon them in disgust."

Mr Barlow happened once to be in company with a lady with whom he was

upon a footing of intimacy, who was talking in this manner. "Nobody,"

she said, "had greater feeling than herself, or was more desirous of

assisting her fellow-creatures. When she first came into the country she

had endeavoured to relieve all the misery she heard of; she had given

victuals to one, physic to a second, and clothes to a third; but she had

met with such ill-behaviour and ingratitude in return, that she had long

been obliged to resign all her charitable intentions, and abandon the

poor to their fate." All the company assented to a doctrine that was so

very conformable to their own practice and inclinations, and agreed that

nothing could be more injudicious than any attempts to be charitable.

Some little time after this conversation cards were produced, and the

lady, who had been so eloquent against the poor, sat down to whist, at

which she played for several hours with equal ignorance and ill-fortune.

When the party was over she was complaining to Mr Barlow of her losses,

and added that she scarcely ever in her life had sat down to cards with

better success. "I wonder, madam," replied Mr Barlow, "you do not then

give up entirely." "Alas!" answered the lady, "I have often made this

resolution, but I never had the courage to keep it." "Indeed, madam,"

said Mr Barlow, "it is impossible you can be deficient in courage, and

therefore you wrong your own character." "You do me too much honour,"

said the lady, "by your good opinion; but whoever has given you this

information is deceived." "I had it only from yourself, madam." "From

me, sir? When did I ever give you such a character of myself?" "Just

now, madam, when you declared that, upon the bad success of half-a-dozen

experiments, you had resolved never more to be charitable, and had kept

the resolution ever since. I can hardly conceive that your love of cards

is so much greater than that of your duty and religion, and therefore,

my dear madam, I must repeat it, that you certainly undervalue your own

fortitude."

Such were the opinions of Mr Barlow in respect to the poor; and

therefore, instead of widening the distance which fortune has placed

between one part of mankind and another, he was continually intent upon

bringing the two classes nearer together. Poverty has in itself so many

hardships and disagreeable circumstances, that we need not increase

their number by unnecessary pride and insolence. The distinctions of

rank may indeed be necessary to the government of a populous country,

but it is for the good of the whole, not of individuals, that they can

have any just claim to be admitted, and therefore a good man will insist

upon them no more than is absolutely necessary for that purpose. On the

contrary, whatever may he his rank or importance, he will plainly prove,

by the courtesy and benevolence of his manners, that he laments the

necessity of his own elevation, and, instead of wishing to mount still

higher, would willingly descend nearer to an equality with his

fellow-creatures.

Tommy was very much diverted with the ceremonies of this festal day. He

had lost a great part of his West Indian pride during his residence with

Mr Barlow, and had contracted many acquaintances among the families of

the poor. After the example of Mr Barlow, he condescended to go about

from one to the other, and make inquiries about their families; nor was

he a little gratified with the extreme respect with which he found

himself treated, both on the account of Mr Barlow and the reputation of

his own liberality.

Thus did the morning pass away in the most agreeable and auspicious

manner; but after dinner an unexpected incident occurred, which clouded

all the merriment of the unfortunate Tommy Merton.

Mr Barlow happened to have a large Newfoundland dog, equally famous for

his good-nature and his love of the water. With this dog Tommy had been

long forming an acquaintance, and he used to divert himself with

throwing sticks into the water, which Cæsar would instantly bring out in

his mouth, however great might be the distance. Tommy had been fired

with the description of the Kamtschatkan dogs, and their method of

drawing sledges, and meditated an enterprise of this nature on Cæsar.

This very day, finding himself unusually at leisure, he chose for the

execution of his project. He therefore furnished himself with some rope

and a kitchen chair, which he destined for his vehicle instead of a

sledge. He then inveigled Cæsar into a large yard behind the house, and,

extending the chair flat upon the ground, fastened him to it with great

care and ingenuity. Cæsar, who did not understand the new purpose to

which he was going to be applied, suffered himself to be harnessed

without opposition, and Tommy mounted triumphantly his seat, with a whip

in his hand, and began his operations. A crowd of little boys, the sons

of the labourers within, now gathered round the young gentleman, and by

their admiration very much increased his ardour to distinguish himself.

Tommy began to use the common expressions which he had heard coachmen

practise to their horses, and smacked his whip with all the confidence

of an experienced charioteer. Cæsar, meanwhile, who did not comprehend

this language, began to be a little impatient, and expressed his

uneasiness by making several bounds and rearing up like a restive horse.

This added very much to the diversion of the spectators, and Tommy, who

considered his honour as materially concerned in achieving the

adventure, began to be a little more warm; and proceeding from one

experiment to another, at length applied a pretty severe lash to the

hinderpart of his steed. This Cæsar resented so much that he instantly

set off at three-quarters speed, and dragged the chair with the driver

upon it at a prodigious rate. Tommy now looked round with an infinite

air of triumph, and kept his seat with surprising address and firmness.

Unfortunately there happened to be, at no great distance, a large

horse-pond, which went shelving down to the depth of three or four feet.

Hither, by a kind of natural instinct, the affrighted Cæsar ran, when he

found he could not disengage himself from his tormentor; while Tommy,

who now began to repent of his success, endeavoured to pacify and

restrain him. But all his expostulations were vain, for Cæsar

precipitately rushed into the pond, and in an instant plunged into the

middle with his charioteer behind him. The crowd of spectators had now a

fresh subject of diversion, and all their respect for Master Tommy could

not hinder them from bursting into shouts of derision. The unfortunate

hero was equally discomposed at the unmannerly exultation of his

attendants, and at his own ticklish situation. But he did not long wait

for the catastrophe of his adventure; for, after a little floundering in

the pond, Cæsar, by a vigorous exertion, overturned the chair, and Tommy

came roughly into the water. To add to his misfortune, the pond was at

that time neither ice nor water; for a sudden thaw had commenced the day

before, accompanied by a copious fall of snow. Tommy, therefore, as soon

as he had recovered his footing, floundered on through mud and water and

pieces of floating ice, like some amphibious animal to the shore;

sometimes his feet slipped, and down he tumbled, and then he struggled

up again, shaking the water from his hair and clothes. Now his feet

stuck fast in the mud, and now, by a desperate effort, he disengaged

himself with the loss of both his shoes; thus labouring on, with

infinite pain and difficulty he reached the land. The whole troop of

spectators were now incapable of stifling their laughter, which broke

forth in such redoubled peals, that the unfortunate hero was irritated

to an extreme degree of rage, so that, forgetting his own sufferings and

necessities, as soon as he had struggled to the shore, he fell upon them

in a fury, and dealt his blows so liberally on every side, that he put

the whole company to flight. Tommy was now in the situation of a warrior

that pursues a routed army. Dismay and terror scattered all his little

associates a hundred different ways, while passion and revenge animated

him to the pursuit, and made him forgetful of the wetness of his

clothes, and the uncomfortableness of his situation. Whatever

unfortunate boy came within his reach was sure to be unmercifully cuffed

and pommelled; for, in the fury with which he felt himself inspired, he

did not wait to consider the exact rules of justice.

While Tommy was thus revenging the affronts he imagined he had received,

and chasing the vanquished about the court, the unusual noise and uproar

which ensued reached the ears of Mr Barlow, and brought him to the door.

He could hardly help laughing at the rueful figure of his friend, with

the water dropping from every part of his body in copious streams, and

at the rage which seemed to animate him in spite of his disaster. It was

with some difficulty that Tommy could compose himself enough to give Mr

Barlow an account of his misfortunes, which, when he had heard, he

immediately led him into the house, and advised him to undress and go to

bed. He then brought him some warm diluting liquors, by which means he

avoided all the bad effects which might otherwise have arisen from so

complete a drenching.

The next day Mr Barlow laughed at Tommy in his usual good-natured

manner, and asked him if he intended to ride out in the Kamtschatkan

manner; adding, however, that he should be afraid to attend him, as he

had the habit of beating his companions. Tommy was a little confounded

at this insinuation, but replied, "that he should not have been so

provoked if they had not laughed at his misfortunes, and he thought it

very hard to be wetted and ridiculed both." "But," replied Mr Barlow,

"did their noise or laughter do you any great damage, that you

endeavoured to return it so roughly?" Tommy answered, "that he must own

it did not do him any hurt, or give him any pain." "Why, then," said Mr

Barlow, "I do not see the justice of your returning it in that manner."

"But," said Tommy, "it is so provoking to be laughed at!" "There are two

ways of remedying that," replied Mr Barlow, "either not doing such

things as will expose you to ridicule, or by learning to bear it with a

little more patience." "But," said Tommy, "I do not think that anybody

can bear it with patience." "All the world," said Mr Barlow, "are not

quite so passionate as you are. It is not long ago that you were

speaking of the poor Greenlanders with great contempt, and fancying them

much inferior to yourself; yet those poor _barbarians_, as you called

them, that live upon fish, and are not brought up like gentlemen's sons,

are capable of giving you a lesson that would be of the greatest service

if you would but observe it." "What is that, sir?" inquired Tommy.

"They are brought up to so much moderation and self-command," said Mr

Barlow, "that they never give way to those sudden impulses of passion

that are common among the Europeans; and when they observe their violent

gestures, their angry words, their countenances inflamed with wrath,

they feel for them the greatest contempt, and say they must have been

very badly educated. As to themselves, if any person think himself

ill-used by another, without putting himself into any passion upon the

occasion, he defies his foe to meet him at a particular time, before all

their mutual acquaintance."

_Tommy._--But then I suppose they fight; and that is being as passionate

as I was.

_Mr Barlow._--I am sorry that you, who pretend to have been so well

brought up, should have recourse to the example of the Greenlanders, in

order to justify your own conduct; but in this case you are mistaken,

for the barbarians are a great deal wiser than young gentlemen. The

person who thinks himself injured does indeed challenge his antagonist,

but it is to a very different sort of combat from what you imagine. Both

parties appear at the appointed time, and each surrounded with a company

of his particular friends. The place where they assemble is generally

the middle of one of their large huts, that all the persons of their

society may be impartial spectators of their contest. When they are thus

convened, the champion, who by agreement is to begin, steps forward into

the middle of the circle, and entertains them with a song or speech,

which he has before meditated. In this performance he generally

contrives to throw all the ridicule he is able upon his antagonist, and

his satire is applauded by his own party, and excites universal

merriment among the audience. When he has sung or declaimed himself out

of breath, it is the turn of his rival to begin, who goes on in the same

manner, answering all the satire that has been thrown upon him, and

endeavouring to win the laughter over to his own side. In this manner do

the combatants go on, alternately reciting their compositions against

each other, till the memory or invention of one of them fails, and he is

obliged to yield the victory to his rival. After this public spectacle

of their ingenuity, the two champions generally forget all their

animosities, and are cordially reconciled. "This," added Mr Barlow,

"appears to me to be a much better method of answering ridicule, than by

giving way to passion and resentment, and beating those that displease

us; and one of these honest Greenlanders would be as much ashamed of

such a sudden transport of anger as a Kamtschatkan traveller would be of

managing his dogs as ill as you did yesterday."

The History of Sandford and Merton · 第 6 / 10 章