ROBERT MERRY’S
MUSEUM.
EDITED BY
S. G. GOODRICH,
AUTHOR OF PETER PARLEY’S TALES.
VOLUME VII.
BOSTON
BRADBURY, SODEN & CO.,
NO. 12, SCHOOL STREET.
1844.
Stereotyped by George A. Curtis, New England Type and Stereotype
Foundry.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME VII.
JANUARY TO JUNE, 1844.
January, 1
London Printseller, 4
A Test, “
Significant, “
The Thorn, 5
Old Man in the Corner, 6, 43, 82, 116, 145, 176
Don’t give up the Ship, 10
Cure for the Tooth-ache, 12
Either way will do, “
The Stormy Petrel, “
Bill and the Boys, 13, 69, 109, 139, 185
Pictures of Various Nations, 16, 56, 86, 113, 146, 170
Fresh Water, 19
Light, 20
Herons and Rooks, 24
Spectral Illusions, 25
Bats, 26
Yankee Wit, 27
Musician in Ohio, “
Kin Than, 28
Our Correspondence, 30, 94, 124, 190
Music, 32
February, 33
The Three Sovereigns, 34
Written on a Boy’s Marble, “
Inquisitive Jack, 35, 75, 106, 130, 163
Dick Boldhero, 38, 66, 98, 135, 173
The Indian and his Dog, 40
Husking the Corn, 42
The Sea, 45
Snow-balling, 46
Anecdote of Washington, 47
Question on Mathematics, “
The use of Telescopes, 48
The Lotus, 50
The Miller and the Fool, “
The Indian Dandy, 51
The Locust, 52
St. Patrick and Father Mathew, 53
The real Culprit, 54
Combat between a Falcon and Serpent, 55
The Papyrus, “
Pigeon Coves, 56
Bonaparte and the Leg of Mutton, 58
Names of Countries and Places, 59
Snuff-taking, “
Squirrels, 60
Consolation in Sea-Sickness, 61
The Blue Jay, 62
Lines placed over a Chimney-piece, “
A German, “
Shoe Black and his Dog, 63
Advertisement Extra, “
Pat-riotism, “
To our Readers, 63
The Snow-Flakes. _A Song_, 64
March, 65
The Old Mansion, 72
The Desman, 74
City of Ancient Babylon, 79
The Leopard, 81
The Pyramids of Egypt, 84
A Monster of the Deep, 88
The Sperm Whale, 89
The Cottager to her Infant, 91
Squirrels, 92
A Winter Evening in the Country, 94
The Little Soldier, 95, 159
Evening. _A Song_, 96
April, 97
William Ellery Channing, 101
Chinese Ingenuity, 104
Effect of Climate, “
The Morse, 105
Promotion from the Ranks, 108
Family Men, 111
Nine of Diamonds, “
Sharp Retort, “
The Leming, 112
Persia, 120
How to get Letters Free, 122
Love One Another, “
Varieties, 123
May, 129
Deserts of Africa and Asia, 133
The Merry Knight, 134
Anecdote of a Tiger, 143
Miss Pappoo, 144
I don’t want to go, 149
A Chinese Dandy, “
A thrilling Narrative, 151
Demosthenes, 153
Walking on Stilts, 158
The Goldfinch. _A Song_, 160
June, 161
Sketches in Egypt, 165
What’s in a Name, 178
The Five-Dollar Bill, 179
The Lark, 182
Origin of the names of the U.S., 183
Battle between a Rat and Crab, 184
Blue Beard and his Castle, 188
A Horse stung to death, “
The Flowers of Spring, “
Boisterous Preaching, “
Letter to Peter Parley, 189
Peter Parley’s answer, “
The Lily. _A Song_, 191
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1844, by S. G.
GOODRICH, in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of
Massachusetts.
MERRY’S MUSEUM.
Vol. VII. 1844. No. 1.
[Illustration: JANUARY.]
Well――here we are again! The old year has passed away, and the new one
has come. How rapidly the months have flown! It seems but a brief
space since our last farewell to the old year,――and since we greeted
you all with wishes of a happy new one. And yet, within that space,
this great world on which we live has made its annual journey of three
hundred millions of miles around the sun――and we have kept it company.
The year 1843 has departed, and carried up to heaven its record of
good and of evil!
And we are now at the threshold of another year; we are about to begin
a new race――to perform a new journey. The year 1844 is an untried
region――an unknown country. What may be there in store for us, we
cannot say. But let us start with cheerful hearts, with hopeful
anticipations, and with a stock of good resolutions.
It is the first day of January,――that cold and stormy month, which the
ancients represented under the image of an old man, with a long
beard,――such as appears at the head of this article. Boys and girls――I
wish you all a happy new year! But what are mere wishes? They are idle
breath――a mockery of words, unless the heart goes with them. And my
heart, on the present occasion, does go with my words. I not only wish
you a happy new year, my friends, but, so far as in me lies, I intend
to make it a happy one for my readers. I have in store for them――not
cake and candy――not sweetmeats and sugar-plums――but rhymes and
riddles――fables and allegories――prose and poetry――lays and
legends――fact and fancy――in short, a general assortment of such things
as belong to a literary museum for young people. And although I
profess to deal in matters that may amuse my friends, I have still a
desire that, while they are entertained, they shall be instructed. The
only way to be happy――really and truly happy――is to be wise; and
wisdom comes through teaching――through education. I think I can make
this very plain, if you will listen to me a few moments.
You know there are such people as savages――those who roam wild in the
woods, or dwell in wigwams, sitting upon the ground, and sleeping upon
the skins of beasts; those who have no books, nor schools, nor
churches; those who have never read the Bible; those who know not
Jesus Christ, nor the ten commandments.
Well――what makes the difference between these wild, savage people, and
those who live in good houses, in towns and cities, and have all the
comforts and conveniences of life? Knowledge makes the whole
difference, and knowledge comes by instruction――by education. Do my
little readers know that without education they would be savages? Yet
it is really so. All are born alike――the child of the savage, and the
child of the Christian. One grows up a savage, because its father and
mother do not send it to school――do not furnish it books, do not teach
it to read and to write. The other grows up a Christian, because it is
instructed――it is educated. Education, therefore, makes us to differ.
Now, what do you think of this? Do you observe, that all our little
friends, who hate books, and school, and instruction, are trying to be
like little savages? Bah! I hope none of my readers are so
unreasonable. I hope they see that it is best for them to be
Christians――and as far as possible from the savage state. I think one
thing is very clear: our good Father in heaven, whom we ought all to
love and obey, did not intend us to be savages; and, at the same time,
he has provided only one way to avoid it――and that is by education. He
makes it our duty, therefore, as well as our happiness, to seek
instruction――education.
This design of Providence is very apparent, when we compare man with
animals. Birds and beasts do not go to school; they are provided with
all needful knowledge by that power which we call instinct. A little
chicken, only a day old, will run about and pick up seeds, which lie
scattered among the stones and dirt. How does the chicken know that
seeds are made to eat, and that stones are not made to eat? How does
the chicken distinguish the wholesome and nutritious seed, from the
dirt and gravel? God has taught it――God has given it a wonderful
instinct, by which it is guided in the choice and discovery of its
food.
But the infant has no such instinct; left to itself, it will pick up
dirt, stones, pins――anything that comes in its way――and put all into
its little greedy mouth! The child has to be taught everything by its
parents or its nurse. It must be taught what is good and what is
evil――what to seek, and what to shun.
The chicken runs about, as soon as it is hatched; the child must be
taught first to creep, then to walk. The chicken, left to itself,
though but a day old, will hide from the hawk that would devour it;
the child, if left to itself, would as soon go into the fire, or the
water, or the bear’s mouth, as anywhere else. The chicken is guided by
instinct――the child by instruction.
Thus it appears, that, while instinct is the guide of the animal
world, education is the instrument by which children are to reach
their true destiny. God meant us to be educated; and children who hate
education, hate God’s will and God’s way; they hate the road that
leads to their own happiness. Think of that――black-eyes and
blue-eyes!――think that when you resist instruction, you resist the
will of Providence, and sin against your own peace! The designs of
Providence, in respect to animals and mankind, appear very striking
from other considerations. Now a beaver is a natural architect, and
his instinct not only teaches him the art of house-building, but he
has a set of tools ready furnished. He has sharp teeth, with which he
cuts down trees, and divides them into proper lengths: thus his teeth
answer both as hatchet and saw. His tail is flat, and when he has laid
on his mortar, he turns round and spats it with his tail, which
operates like a mason’s trowel. So here is a carpenter and mason, both
in one, educated by nature and provided with a set of tools, scot
free. What a happy fellow!
So it is with the woodpecker; he never learnt a trade, or paid a
shilling for tools――yet he knows how to chisel out his hole in a dry
tree――and his bill answers as both gouge and hammer. The spider has no
shuttle or loom; he never had a lesson in the factories of Lowell――yet
he weaves his ingenious web――and he sets it, too, so as to take his
prey.
Surely, Providence has taken care of these creatures in a wonderful
way. And perhaps you think that God has been more kind to them than to
human beings; for while He teaches the animal world, He leaves
children to schoolmasters; and while He teaches the beavers and the
birds their trade, and furnishes their tools, gratis――boys and girls
must serve seven years for a trade, and pay for their tools when they
have done!
But let us look a little farther. It is true that if children refuse
to learn――refuse to be educated――they remain ignorant, and like
savages. But children can learn, if they will. Education is offered to
them――and, if it is improved, what is the result? Look around, and see
what mankind, who have obeyed the will of God, and who have improved
their faculties by education,――see what they are, and what they have
done. The instinct of the beaver is very wonderful――but, after all, it
only enables the beaver to build rude mounds of earth, wood and stone,
which serve as its abode; and also enables it to provide its simple
food of roots and grass and fruits. This is the whole stretch of
instinct.
But let us look at the results of education, operating upon the
faculties of man. Look at Boston――what a mighty city! How many
houses――and if we go into them, how beautiful――how convenient! Look at
the paved streets――the pleasant side-walks! Go into the shops, and see
the beautiful merchandises. Go into the Museum, in Tremont street, and
see the wonders there, gathered from the four quarters of the globe.
Go down to the waters and see the ships, made to plough the mighty
ocean, and hold intercourse with the ends of the earth. Go to the
Atheneum, and see the stores of knowledge, which man has discovered.
Go to the churches, and see the people holding communion with that God
who built the earth, and spread out the heavens. Open the Bible, and
read the wonders of revelation――the immortality of the soul――the
mighty plan of man’s salvation. Go to the fireside, and see the
comfort――the peace――the happiness, which are there. And remember that
all these things――every one of them――is the product of education. Oh,
who then would be content with instinct, merely because it is easy,
and costs nothing; and spurn education, because it requires effort?
Education, then, is a great and glorious thing; but remember that you
must take advantage of it. The old adage says――“One man may lead a
horse to water, but ten can’t make him drink.” It is so with children
in education: it is easy to send them to school――easy to put books
before them――easy to give them good counsel; but if they will not try
to learn, they will not learn. You cannot teach an unwilling mind.
When I was a boy, I caught a blue jay, and put him in a cage; but the
fellow wouldn’t eat. I got hold of his head, and opened his mouth, and
put some cherries down, but he wouldn’t swallow; and as soon as I let
him go, he threw it all up; and so he died! Now, this is just the way
with some boys and girls――they will not take knowledge into their
minds; they reject good counsel; even if you cram it down, they throw
it up. Isn’t that bad? Yes――very bad indeed.
Now――ladies and gentlemen――boys and girls――walk up,――here’s Merry’s
Museum for 1844! We are going to set matters all right; we are going
to show the advantages of education, the pleasures of education, the
duty of education. We shall have our sweetmeats and sugar-plums, as we
go along; but still――still――we mean to know a great deal more at the
end of the year, than we do now! We mean to lay up a good stock of
knowledge, which may last us through life. Who will go with us?
――――
A LONDON printseller advertises, “A head of Charles I., capitally
executed.”
――――
A TEST.――“Never,” said the celebrated Lord Burleigh, “trust a man who
is unsound in religion, for he that is false to his God can never be
true to man.”
――――
SIGNIFICANT.――An old picture represents a king sitting in state with a
label, “I govern all;” a bishop, with a legend, “I pray for all;” a
farmer, drawing forth, reluctantly, a purse, with the inscription, “I
pay for all.”
[Illustration]
The Thorn.
There was once a boy, named James, who, with his little brother and
sister, was going to take a walk in the fields and woods. It was a
beautiful warm day, and James thought he would take off his stockings
and shoes, and go barefoot.
I suppose my young friends all know how pleasant it is to take off the
covering of the feet, in a warm summer day, and run about on the
smooth grass. How light one feels――how swift one can run with his foot
free as that of the mountain deer!
Now it happened that James had been forbidden by his mother to take
off his stockings and shoes, for she was afraid that he would take
cold. But he was now at a distance from home, and he thought he would
do as he liked. So he took off his stockings and shoes.
Oh, how he did scamper about for a time; but, by and by, as he was
skipping along, he stepped upon a thorn, which entered the bottom of
his foot, and inflicted a severe wound. As it gave him great pain, he
sat down and tried to pull out the thorn; but, alas! it had entered
quite deep, and had then broken off in such a manner, that he could
not get hold of it. There he sat for some time, not knowing what to
do――but at last he was obliged to hobble home as well as he could.
James told his mother what had happened, for how could he help it?
“Ah――ah――my son!” said she, “this comes of your disobedience. When
will children learn that parents know what is best for them?” However,
the good woman set to work to try to get out the naughty thorn, but
she could not succeed.
By this time James was in great pain; so his mother put on a poultice,
hoping that would cure it. But the poor fellow didn’t sleep any all
night, he was in such distress, and in the morning his foot was sadly
swollen. The doctor was then sent for, and at last he succeeded in
getting out the thorn; but poor James had a sad time of it. It was at
least three weeks before he got quite well. But the event was a good
lesson to him. Whenever, in after life, he was tempted to disobey his
mother, he said to himself――“Mother knows best――remember the thorn!”
Whenever he was tempted to seize upon any forbidden pleasure, he would
always say――“Remember the thorn!”
[Illustration]
The Old Man in the Corner; or, the Pedler’s Pack.
Not long since, an old man――a very old man――came into the office of
Merry’s Museum, and sat down in a corner of the room. He looked a
little like old Peter Parley――but it can’t be that it was he, for some
say Peter is dead――and, at any rate, he is not to be seen about these
days.
After the old man had sat for some time,――saying nothing to anybody,
and only looking about with a kind of mournful countenance,――he got
up, and slowly marched away. When he was gone, one of the boys found a
little parcel on the bench where the old man sat, addressed to “Mr.
Robert Merry; care of Bradbury & Soden, 10 School street, Boston.”
On opening the paper, we found an old greasy book within, written full
of tales, fables, sketches, &c.; some of them very good indeed, and
some very queer. The title of the little book was the “Pedler’s Pack,”
and it had the following motto:
Come, all my youthful friends, come near――
For every one I’ve something here:
Anecdotes for those who choose――
Rhymes for all who love the muse――
Riddles and conundrums――bless ’em――
For little folks who love to guess ’em;
Odd scraps have I from history torn,
Strange tales from other countries borne――
And many a story, true and funny,
Well worth your reading and your money.
So, all my youthful readers, come――
Boys and girls, each shall have some.
Walk up, my friends――Blue Eyes and Black――
And let us ope the Pedler’s Pack.
There was no note or direction, which informed us clearly what the
_Old Man in the Corner_ intended we should do with his book; but we
suppose that he intended we should publish it in Merry’s Museum. This
we have accordingly concluded to do. We shall insert such articles as
seem suitable for our columns――making occasional notes of an
explanatory nature. The first article we shall insert, is entitled
_The Blues_; and in order that our readers may understand it, we must
premise that when people are sad, or unhappy, on account of
troublesome thoughts, they are said to have the _blues_, or the _blue
devils_. The same thing is meant by the terms, _bad spirits_, the
_vapors_, _low spirits_, &c. The _Old Man in the Corner_ seems to
think that these troubles may be avoided by a proper course of life.
Here is his queer article about
The Blues.
How it rains! Patter, patter, patter! Well, let it pour! I love the
rumble of the drops upon the roof, like the prolonged roll of a
distant drum. Let it rain; I am secure. I shall not go out to-day, nor
shall any one intrude upon my privacy. This day is mine!
A wet day is often considered a lost day. To me it is otherwise. I can
shut the door upon the world――turn the key upon life’s cares, and give
myself up freely to the reins of a vagrant fancy, without reproach of
conscience. Providence has stepped in, and, arresting my tasks and my
duties, gives me a sort of Sabbath of leisure and mental recreation.
To me a wet day brings no blues, or, if it does, they are those which
come on the wings of reverie, and are such as I am sometimes willing
to entertain. Your reasonable blue is a communicative, suggestive
thing, and I always court its society.
And, after all――what are “the Blues?” Everything else has been
classified, analyzed, and reduced to scientific system; and why not
these beings which figure so largely in the history of the human mind?
This is a subject of profound inquiry, and I wonder it has not
attracted the attention of the philosophical. Let us look at it.
To get firm hold of the subject, we must suppose a case. I sit in my
room alone. Alone, did I say? As nature abhors a vacuum, the mind
instinctively shrinks from solitude. If fleshy forms are not present,
a host of imps press in from crack and crevice, to gambol around us.
The mind is like the room in which the body is held, and these shadowy
elves issue forth from the plastering of the walls, or peep out from
the dark arras that hangs betwixt the visible and invisible world.
Could we break through the plastering, or lift the arras, and see what
these seeming imps are――whether they are things, or only images of
things; whether they are substantial spirits, which, like invisible
eels in water, are ever playing their pranks behind the curtain of
vision; could we do this, our task would easily be done; and for our
discovery we should expect to be made a member of some philosophical
society. But, alas! there is no bridge that crosses the gulf between
life and death――none, at least, upon which a being of flesh and blood
can return. It is therefore impossible to follow “the blues” to their
retreats――to the recesses from which, unbidden, they come, and to
which, pursued, they fly.
What, then, are “the Blues?” In natural history, there is nothing like
dissection. But, before dissection, we must have a subject. How, then,
shall we catch a blue?――that is the first question. The easiest way is
to take one by supposition, and, while we are supposing, we may as
well include the whole race. These can be arranged as follows:
ORDER I. THE BLUES.
These have no head, no heart, no ears, no breathing organs; body,
invisible; food, the human heart.
{CLASS I. Blues of reverie:
{ pleasing, but not to be too
{ much indulged.
{
_Order I._ {CLASS II. Rum blues: pestiferous.
_The Blues._ {
{CLASS III. Blues of indigestion:
{ horrible.
{
{CLASS IV. Blues of bad
{ conscience: frightful.
We might now proceed to give the several kinds into which each class
is divided, and then the numerous species of each kind. But this must
be reserved for some future work on the subject; and if we should
publish such an one, let no person laugh at our labors, nor sneer at
our philosophy. “The Blues” constitute a great subject of scientific
research, and are by no means unworthy of the moral philosopher. We
have only time to make a few observations, to show the force of this
latter remark.
In the first place, it may be noted that those persons who live
temperately, rise early, and go to bed early; those who fulfil their
duties toward God and man; those who have good digestion, and a good
conscience――are never visited by any other blues than Order I., Class
I. If any others ever do come to such persons, they usually depart as
speedily as a rattlesnake from an ash stick. Of course, these people
are not supposed to be particularly interested in our subject.
But that numerous class, who are in the habit of neglecting some daily
duty, or violating some moral or physical law; those who eat too much;
those who take strong drinks; those who follow pleasure rather than
peace; those, in short, who keep the mind like an ill-swept garret,
decorated with dust, cobwebs and confusion――those persons are
doubtless particularly interested in our subject. For these, the
little blues of the pestiferous classes have a strong affinity. Around
the hearts of these persons they are ever to be found. Upon their
lifeblood these elves live.
Of all classes of blues, the Rum Blue is, perhaps, the worst. Whether
the insect called “_blue bottle_” took its name from it, or not, is a
question for the learned. The class is pretty numerous, and includes a
variety of genera, among which are the following.
{GENUS 1. The gin blue.
{
{GENUS 2. The whiskey
{ blue. (In London called
{ “blue ruin.”)
_Class II._ {
_Rum Blues;_ {GENUS 3. The wine blue.
_or,_ {
_The Horrors._ {GENUS 4. The toddy blue.
{
{GENUS 5. The brandy
{ blue.
{
{GENUS 6. The Santa
{ Croix blue.
This class of blues is particularly pestiferous. There is no great
difference between them, and none but a nice observer can distinguish
them: they are, however, a most destructive race. They often assemble
in crowds around the mind, and are then called “_low spirits_,” or
“the horrors,” terms which are descriptive of their character. They
not unfrequently sting the soul and body with such agony, as to bring
on what is called the _delirium tremens_――the most frightful of mortal
maladies. Under the agony of the rum blue, a man will sometimes murder
his wife and children. This subject is almost too frightful to dwell
upon; but there is one source of consolation, and that is, that no one
ever need be afflicted with the rum blue. If a person will only
abstain from alcoholic liquors, he will never be infested with any
species of this kind of vermin.
The class of blues belonging to bad conscience, as well as that of
indigestion, is numerous, and includes a variety of genera. We will
not now enter into a detail of them, as our present observations are
intended to be rather practical than scientific. We may therefore
close this article with the observation, that _whoever is afflicted
with the blues, has it in his own power to get rid of them_.
And now, gentle reader, the moral of all this is as follows. Many
people are subject to pain of mind――which they express by the terms,
_blue devils_, _the horrors_, _low spirits_, &c. &c. Now, this pain of
mind almost always proceeds from some misconduct; from the neglect of
duty; from improper eating or drinking; from wrong doing of some kind
or other. Therefore, if you would avoid pain of mind――if you would
keep away the blues――adopt good habits, and stick to them.
――――
CHINESE NOTION OF DANCING.――When Commodore Anson was at Canton, the
officers of the ship Centurion had a ball upon some holiday. While
they were dancing, a Chinese, who very quietly surveyed the operation,
said softly, to one of the party, “Why don’t you let your servants do
this for you?”
[Illustration]
“Don’t give up the Ship.”
During the last war with England, a bloody battle was fought between
the British vessel of war Shannon and the American vessel Chesapeake.
This took place in the waters off Boston harbor.
In a short time, the Chesapeake was terribly cut to pieces, and many
of the men were killed and wounded. The commander, Captain Lawrence,
was himself mortally wounded, but, while he was dying, he exclaimed,
“_Don’t give up the ship!_” These striking words have passed into a
proverb, and nothing is more common than to hear people say, when they
wish to inspire those who are in difficulty with a new stock of
courage and energy, “don’t give up the ship!” Now such little
sentences, take the whole world together, produce an immense deal of
effect,――for very often a person about to despair has taken new
courage from saying to himself,――or having it said to him,――“don’t
give up the ship!” I am going to tell you a story which may show an
instance of this.
Richard Dribble,――familiarly called Dick Dribble,――was a poor boy,
about eleven years old, who was put out to a farmer, to go to school,
and do chores at odd hours. I need not describe his appearance
particularly, for his portrait is at the head of this article; but I
must tell you that Dick was rather disposed to be lazy and idle. He
was a good-natured fellow, but he hated exertion, and was even too
indolent to keep himself tidy. He therefore had always a kind of
neglected, shabby and shiftless look.
Well, it was winter, and one day Dick was sent of an errand. The
distance he had to go was two or three miles, and his way led through
some deep woods. Dick had a great coat, but he was too lazy to put it
on, and, though the weather was bitter cold, he set off without it. He
had not gone far before he began to shiver like a pot of jelly, but
still he kept on. After a while it began to snow, and pretty soon
Dick’s neck and bosom were almost filled with it, though some of it
melted and went trickling down his back and breast.
The boy took it very quietly for a time; instead of beating off the
snow, he let it rest, until at last he was almost crusted over with
it. His fingers now began to ache, his nose tingled, his toes
grumbled, his teeth chattered, and his whole frame shivered like an
aspen leaf. At last the poor fellow began to snivel, and, stopping
plump in the path, he exclaimed “It’s too bad! it’s too bad!” Saying
this, he gathered himself all into a kind of heap, and stood stock
still.
How long he would have remained here, if he had been left to himself,
I can’t say; it is probable that he would have remained inactive till
he had become benumbed and unable to move, and that he had then lain
down and been frozen to death. Indeed, he was already chilled through,
and his limbs were getting stiff, and almost incapable of motion, when
a gay young fellow came driving by in a sleigh. As he passed, he saw
Dick, and exclaimed, “Don’t give up the ship!” He was driving very
swiftly, and was out of sight in an instant.
Dick had sense enough left to appreciate the force of the counsel thus
hastily given; it forced him to see, that, if he did not make an
effort, he would die; at the same time, it put into his bosom a
feeling that he could overcome the cold and extricate himself from his
trouble. “At any rate,” said he to himself, “I will try!” No sooner
had he adopted this view of the case, than he began to march forward.
He rubbed and beat his fingers; he knocked off the snow from around
his neck; in short, he laid out his whole strength, and before he had
gone half a mile, he was in a fine glow, and though his fingers and
toes tingled a little from the hot-ache, he was very comfortable.
So Master Dick trudged on; he performed his errand, and returned in
safety. Nor was the adventure wholly without its use to him. He often
thought of the advice of the gay sleigh-driver, and the effect it had
upon him. “Don’t give up the ship,” said he, amid the piercing and
trying circumstances of after life; and often that brief but pointed
counsel enabled him to triumph over difficulties which, perchance, had
otherwise overbalanced him.
And now, gentle reader, if you find it hard to get your lesson, hard
to perform your task, hard to do your duty, think of Dick Dribble in
the snow-storm, and say to yourself, “Don’t give up the ship,” and go
ahead!
――――
CURE FOR THE TOOTH-ACHE.――Fill your mouth with cream, and bump your
head against a post till it turns to butter.
――――
EITHER WAY WILL DO.――“Wilt thou have me, Sarah?” said a modest young
man to a girl whom he loved. “No, John,” was the reply of Sarah――“but
you may have me, if you will!”
――――
“The rolling stone gathers no moss.” Unstable people seldom prosper.
[Illustration]
The Stormy Petrel.
My course is o’er the sea, the sea,
Where the wind roams free,――
Where the tempest flies
On a wing of might,
And the billow rolls
In a robe of white!
My course is o’er the tide, the tide,
Where the fearless ride,――
Where the bloody deed
In battle is done,
And the gory wreath
Of victory won!
My course is o’er the deep, the deep,
Where the lost ones sleep,――
Down, down in the hush
Of a coral bed,
Where the mermaid sighs
O’er the lonely dead!
My course is east――my course is west――
Where, where shall the petrel rest?――
In the cleft of a rock,
Where the surges sweep,
And lulled by the shock,
Shall the petrel sleep.
[Illustration]
Bill and the Boys.
I have been often requested by my young readers to tell them something
more about Bill Keeler. I have, therefore, been rumaging over my
memory, to see if I could pick up something about him, worth relating.
Now Bill was a great story teller, and he with myself and several
other boys, used often to get together, and amuse one another by
relating such narratives as we could invent or recollect. Bill was
always foremost on these occasions, and not only told the best, but
the most stories. It is my purpose to present my readers with such of
these tales as I can recollect. I shall not try to put them down in
the exact language in which they were originally spoken,――but I shall
give their substance and point. The first of these tales, I shall call
THE LOTTERY TICKET.
There was once a poor, but worthy man, whose name was Trudge. He was a
pedler, and though he dealt only in pins, needles, thread, combs and
such little articles, he succeeded in getting a comfortable living.
Nay, more――he laid up a trifle every year, and finally he had enough
to buy him a small house. He had a wife and two or three children, and
to this humble cottage they speedily removed.
Trudge thought himself very happy when he was snugly established at
his new house. He kissed Mrs. Trudge, and all the little Trudges;
danced “hey Betty Martin!” and thought himself one of the luckiest
fellows in the world. And so he was, if he could have been content;
but, alas! he was beset with certain very troublesome visiters; they
were Ambition, Envy and Idleness. I must tell you all about it.
As Trudge travelled about the country selling his wares, he noticed
some fine houses, around which he always saw nice carriages, gay
horses, and well-dressed people, who seemed to have nothing to do but
to amuse themselves. This made Trudge feel uneasy, and he said to
himself――“Why wasn’t I rich, and why can’t I live in a fine house, and
be a gentleman? Here I am――only a pedler――poor Tom Trudge――and it’s
all trudge, trudge, from morning to night; winter and summer, fair or
foul, hot or cold, I must trudge, trudge! If I was rich, and lived in
a fine house, I should be Thomas Trudge, Esq., and then I should be as
good as anybody. I should have easy carriages and fat, slick horses,
and Mrs. Trudge would be a fine lady!”
Thus it was that poor Tom indulged his fancy, and all the time Envy
and Ambition and Idleness were at work within, making him very
unhappy. Envy made him feel a sort of hatred toward people who were
richer than himself. Ambition urged him to make every effort to be
rich; and, at the same time, Idleness told him that the greatest
comfort in life was to have nothing to do. Thus it was that Tom, who
had a neat pretty home, and every necessary comfort and convenience,
was really miserable, because of these uneasy and uncomfortable
thoughts.
Tom at last opened his mind to his wife, and it seems that she had
been feeling pretty much like himself. “I don’t see,” said she, “why
we ain’t as good as the best; and I think it mean of you, Mr. Trudge,
not to let me have as good a gown as Mrs. Million, up there on the
hill. Last Sunday she came out with a bran-new yaller silk gown, and
there was I, in the next pew, in my old caliker; and I thought to
myself, ’tan’t right! And then, you must know, when the minister said
any pleasant and comforting scriptures, he looked very kind at Mrs.
Million and her new silk gown, and when he said anything about the
wicked, he looked at me and my caliker. Now, Tom, I say ’tan’t fair.”
And here Mrs. Trudge buried her face in her apron.
Poor Trudge did all he could to comfort his spouse; but, alas! the
peace of the cottage was gone. Tom and his wife had cast out Content
and let in Envy, and Envy is a troublesome companion. He is never
happy himself, and will let nobody else be happy. Envy is like a
chestnut burr――all covered with prickles――and the closer you clasp it,
the more it torments you. Yet this was now the inmate of Trudge’s
cottage.
Well, time went on, and things grew worse rather than better. It is
true that Tom and his wife were thrifty people; they had now got to be
pretty well off in the world, but still they were by no means as happy
as they once were; envy and ambition still goaded them on; they
yearned to be rich; and, strange to say, they hated the people who
were in the station they themselves desired. They envied and hated
Mrs. Million; yet they wanted very much to be like Mrs. Million.
And――who would have thought it?――the time came when they had an
opportunity to gratify their desires. Tom was one day in New York,
whither he had gone to buy his stock of pins, thread, and
needles――when he chanced to pass by a lottery office. Here, in the
window, was a picture of a gay, lightly-dressed lady, pouring out gold
and silver from a long thing, shaped like a horn, but as big as a corn
basket. Plash went the money upon the ground, as free as water from
the town pump. A bright thought struck Tom: “it’s of no use to plod,”
said he to himself; “here I’ve got fifty dollars; if I lay it out in
goods, I must go and peddle them out, and that’s hard work. Besides,
what’s the use of it? Though I am a little richer by means of my
labors, still, compared with the Millions and the Goldboys, I shall be
poor. Now, I’ve a good mind to step in and buy a ticket in the New
York State Lottery, ☞ HIGHEST PRIZE FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS! ☜ Perhaps
I shall draw it.”
While these thoughts passed in his mind, Tom entered the lottery
office, and in a kind of frenzy, bought a ticket and paid his fifty
dollars for it. He then rolled it carefully up in his pocket and set
off for home――a distance of some forty miles. On his arrival here, he
communicated what he had done, to his wife; and though she secretly
approved of what he had done, she took him to task for it roundly; for
it was dear Mrs. Trudge’s way to find fault with everything her
husband did. Besides, in the present case, she wished, if the ticket
should draw a blank, and the money be thus lost, to have it in her
power to say to her spouse, ☞ “_I told you so, Mr. Trudge!_”――thereby
proving her own sagacity and her husband’s want of sense. It is a
pleasure to some wives, to prove that they ought to have been men, and
their husbands women, and Mrs. Thomas Trudge was one of this amiable
species. But, let us not be misunderstood. Mrs. Trudge wished only to
degrade her husband in her own house, so as to keep the upper hand of
him. Out of it, she always praised him to the skies, and she
passed――except with those who knew better――as a most obedient,
devoted, respectful wife.
The lottery was to draw in about two months. Tom whiled away the time
as well as he could. It is strange that creatures who have got only a
few years to live, should still, at least half the time, be wishing to
annihilate that very time which is so short. Yet so it is. Tom had
given up peddling, for he was determined to be a rich man, and toil no
more; besides, he had spent his money in the lottery ticket, and he
had no cash to buy pins and needles with. He went to the tavern, drank
gin sling, loafed with the idle fellows of the town, talked politics
and scandal, and thus killed the time; but all did not make him
content. Many times did he say to himself, “This idleness is a great
curse; I wish I was at work; I’d rather peddle than play;” and yet,
all the time, he was hoping and yearning for the day when he could be
rich, and live without work.
At last the time came when the lottery was to be drawn, and Tom was
preparing to set off for New York, to be present at the important
crisis. “Now, Tom,” said his wife, “mind! If you draw the highest
prize, I want you to buy me a yaller silk gown, jest like Mrs.
Million’s, only a great deal smarter. And do you buy me a red satin
bonnet, like Mrs. Goldboy’s, only redder. And then do you buy me a new
fan, with a pikter of a Wenus on one side, and a Cowpig on the other.
And then if I don’t go to meetin’, and see who’ll hold their heads
highest, and who’ll get the comfortin’ scripters――I’m not Bridget
Trudge!”
“Well, well,” said Tom, in reply, “and suppose I don’t draw the
prize?”
“Suppose you don’t draw the prize!” said the spouse, “why then you
have thrown away your money like a fool, and remember what I say; if
you don’t draw the prize, remember that I told you so; and if you do
draw the prize, get the silk gown and the silk bonnet, and the fan.”
After a little further conversation, Tom departed on his errand. The
result will be told in another chapter.
Pictures of Various Nations.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTION.
_About the different colors of the human race._
The globe upon which we dwell is a small body compared with the sun,
or with Jupiter, or Saturn; yet it contains many millions of
inhabitants. The exact number can never be ascertained. The best
estimates make the number between eight and nine hundred millions.
This number is too great for a young mind to grasp. A better idea may
be formed of it, by supposing the whole population of the globe to
pass by you, one by one. How long would it take you to count them, at
the rate of twenty thousand a day? More than one hundred and twenty
years.
These inhabitants are scattered over every part of the earth, and are
to be found in almost every island of the sea. They have penetrated
into the frozen regions, where scarcely anything grows but moss; where
fish, bears and reindeer are their only food; and where they are
obliged to live in cabins under ground.
Vast as the number of the earth’s inhabitants is, and widely scattered
as they are, yet they all sprung from one pair. This the scriptures
tell us. About six thousand years ago, God created Adam and Eve in
Asia, and from them all mankind have descended.
Do you ask how this can be? Do you say, that the inhabitants of
different countries and climates differ much? They do indeed differ.
They differ in respect to laws, and government, and manners, and
dress, and language, and color. In this last respect, color, they
differ almost more than in anything else.
Well, because they differ thus much, you think they could not all have
descended from Adam and Eve? If they did not, then the Bible, so far,
cannot be true. This would be a sad conclusion.
But, is such a conclusion necessary? Cannot we account for the
differences which exist among different nations, upon the supposition
that they all did descend from Adam and Eve?
Take the difference in color, which exists among different nations.
This, perhaps, is the most difficult to be accounted for. A great
variety of color may be noticed; but the various colors may, perhaps,
be reduced to three――white, black and red. All the others may be
supposed to be different shades of these.
Now, were Adam and Eve white, black or red? This we cannot ascertain.
The late Dr. Dwight, I believe, supposed that they were red; but allow
that they were white; by what process could their descendants have
become some brown, some yellow, others red, and others still quite
black?
Suppose that a white person in the United States should constantly go
abroad without any covering upon his head. What would be the
consequence of his exposure to the wind and sun? He would “tan,” as we
say, or grow dark colored; and the longer he was exposed the darker he
would become.
Exposure, then, to the heat of the sun, and to changes in the weather,
causes a change of complexion. Suppose this same person visits the
torrid zone. Here, as the heat of the sun is much greater, and the
winds are more scorching, we should naturally expect that his
complexion would darken faster, and, in time, become of a deeper cast.
This is precisely as we find the fact. All the inhabitants of the
torrid zone incline more or less to a black color. Under the equator,
where the heat is greater than in any other part of the world, they
are quite black. In other parts of the world, where the heat is less
intense, as in the temperate climates, they are generally white, or
only brown. Still farther north, in the frigid zones, where the air is
very dry, and the cold very severe, the inhabitants are tawny.
Thus it appears that difference of climate produces a great difference
in the complexion of people. But do not nations living in the same
climate, differ in color? They do. This is remarkably exemplified in
the Tartars and Chinese. The latter are fairer than the former, though
they resemble the Tartars in features; but, then, they are more
polished, and adopt every means to protect themselves from the
weather. On the other hand, the Tartars, are a roving people, without
any fixed dwellings; and hence, are continually exposed to the sun and
air.
We might mention many other causes of a variety of color. Perhaps few
things injure the complexion more than want of cleanliness. This
recalls to my recollection a set of people, who were called Yonkers,
and who lived a few miles from the city of Schenectady, in the state
of New York. When I saw them, some years since, they consisted of
about one hundred souls. Their ancestor’s name was Johnson. He and his
wife were white persons.
Being poor and shiftless, they removed into the woods a few miles from
Schenectady, where they erected a miserable hut, without a floor, and
without a chimney. Some loose straw served them for a bed; and in dirt
and in filth they lived. They had several children, who followed their
examples. Other huts were erected――they intermarried, and in smoke,
and in grease, and in filth, they and their descendants have lived. In
the hottest season of the year the children are accustomed to roll in
the dirt with the pigs around the door; and in the winter season they
play with the ashes and live in the smoke. They seldom, if ever, wash;
and it is doubtful whether a child’s hair is combed half a dozen
times, till it is grown up. When I visited them, which was for the
purpose of distributing bibles among them, it was stated that only
five of the whole clan were able to read.
The consequence of this filthy mode of living may be easily guessed.
They appeared like a different race of beings. Their features were
greatly changed; but much more their complexion. In this latter
respect they were nearly as dark as the North American Indians. From
this story my readers may learn something of the influence which
manner of living exerts, not only on complexion, but even upon
features.
From the foregoing facts it is easy to perceive how white people may,
in process of time, become dark-colored, and even black. Hence,
admitting that Adam and Eve were created white, their descendants
might, through the influence of climate and other causes, become red
and even black.
But, you say, perhaps they were not white――perhaps they were red,
perhaps black. Yes, they might have been red, or they might have been
black. Well, if they were either of these, you ask how any of their
descendants became white.
This is a nice question. But, perhaps, something may in truth be said
by way of a satisfactory answer. We have seen how a white man might
become very dark-colored, and how his descendants might become, in
process of time, even black, by removing to the torrid zone, and there
continuing to dwell for several hundred years.
Now, might not the very reverse of this prove true? Do not the blacks
from Africa grow lighter colored, when brought to the northern parts
of the United States? Listen to what President Dwight says on this
subject:
“The change of the blacks,” says he, “whose ancestors were introduced
into New England, is already very great, as to their shape, features,
hair and complexion. Within the last thirty years, I have not seen a
single person, of African descent, who was not many shades whiter than
the blacks formerly imported directly from Guinea.”
Now, it is possible that the black people in the United States might
become white, in process of time. I do not say that they ever will,
because their manner of living is far different from that of the
whites. They are not as cleanly; most of them are much exposed to the
weather. And this is true of the Indians, or “red men.”
But, you ask, can any instances be produced of either “red men” or
black men becoming white? I answer, yes, instances of both. I will
give an account of an instance of each kind; and I can assure my
readers that the account is true, and they may find it in an enlarged
form, in Dr. Dwight’s travels. And first, I shall tell them the story
of the Indian, or “red man.”
Or, rather I might say, that my story relates to four Indians. They
belonged to the tribe called Brothertown Indians, who lived at a place
called Brothertown, in the state of New York. It was in the year 1791,
that Mr. Hart, formerly minister at Stonington, in Connecticut, saw
four Indians, whose skin, in different parts of their body, was
turning white.
One, whose name was Samuel Adams, had become almost entirely white.
This Indian told Mr. Hart, that his skin had been gradually changing
its color for fourteen years. He was a very healthy man; nor was he
sensible of any pain or disease which occasioned the change. “His skin
appeared perfectly smooth and fresh, and delicately white.” His hair,
also, had become in part gray, like that of aged white people.
The instance of a black man, who became white, is also related by Dr.
Dwight, who himself saw the man, and examined him. His name was Henry
Moss. He was a native of Virginia. He came to New Haven in the year
1796, where Dr. Dwight saw him. He was originally black, and woolly
headed, like other negroes; but, at this time, he was almost entirely
white, and of a “clear, fresh, and delicate complexion.” His hair,
also, was in part changed, and was exactly that of fair white people;
of a flaxen hue, and perfectly free from curling.
From these examples my readers may learn that no one color is
essential to the nature of the body; and that, as white men have
become black, and red and black men white, all mankind, how different
soever they may now appear, may have descended from Adam and Eve,
whatever their complexion might have been.
I might say much more in relation to the differences which exist among
different nations; and might, perhaps, explain how they came to differ
so greatly in respect to language, and dress, and laws, and
government, and other things; but I must not be tedious.
It would be pleasant, no doubt, to my readers, could they travel in
safety round the world, and visit the different nations and tribes of
men, and mark the differences which exist, for themselves. This
pleasure some have enjoyed to a certain extent; and many are the
vessels which yearly sail from the United States to various parts of
the globe.
A few men have visited almost every country on the globe; but it would
take a long life to become even superficially acquainted with the
different tribes of men, had one the means which would be necessary.
But it is not essential to travel much, to become tolerably acquainted
with the people of different countries. Different men have travelled
the world over, and have given faithful accounts of the people whom
they saw. It is desirable to know what has been thus related. Many of
my readers, I suppose, cannot obtain the books which have been written
on this subject. I shall, therefore, proceed to tell them something
about it.
[To be continued.]
FRESH WATER.――The basin of the St. Lawrence, including the great
lakes, contains, in mass, more than half the fresh water on the globe.
[Illustration: _Candle-flies._]
Light.
Before the creation of light, the world must have been involved in
darkness. A state of darkness is the natural condition of the universe
without light. We are very apt to think of everything as a matter of
course, and we are not apt to reflect that everything has been made,
created――by God. Now, let us bear in mind the fact, that darkness was
the original state of the universe; then let us reflect upon the
stupendous, beautiful and benignant creation of light. How wonderful
must have been the first rising of the sun upon this world of ours,
before involved in the shades of midnight! How wonderful must have
been the first appearance of the thousand stars in the sky――and how
wonderful that of the pale, but lovely moon, hung like a bow in the
heavens, or bursting in its full splendor upon our world below.
And let us consider a moment what a wonderful element light is. We do
not understand all its properties, but we know that it proceeds in a
straight direction from its source. Now the sun produces light, and it
comes to us with an inconceivable velocity. The distance of the sun is
ninety-five millions of miles from us――yet the rays of light reach us
in seven minutes and a half; thus showing that the rays fly at the
rate of two hundred thousand miles in a second!
Let us consider, for one instant, what a stupendous work it was to
make and sustain the sun, which is every instant pouring off a flood
of light on all sides, reaching ninety-five millions of miles, and
flowing constantly at the rate of two hundred thousand miles a second;
and consider, also, that this process has been in operation for at
least six thousand years! This is indeed enough to overwhelm us with
wonder and admiration; and yet we are only considering one source of
light――the sun――while every fixed star in the firmament is another,
and presents the same topic of admiration.
We might now pass from this view of the subject, to the uses of
light――and remark upon the fact, that by means of it we see things.
Color and form――all that constitutes the beauty of the world of
vision――is revealed to us by light. The production of light――its
manufacture and supply――is a stupendous thing――but yet its conception,
its invention, was still more wonderful. There was a time when all was
darkness. It was then that God said, “Let there be light, and there
was light!” But he had an object in producing light. He intended that
his creatures should see by it. How great, then, were his wisdom and
goodness in designing it――how wonderful his power in producing it!
I intend, hereafter, to say something more about the philosophy of
light; but my intention, at present, is to speak only of some curious
particulars in relation to it. In the first place, let me tell you
that there are some plants which throw out light. A gentleman
observed, in the shady recesses of some of the rocks of Derbyshire,
England, a brilliant gold and green light, which appeared to proceed
from a fine net-work of moss, growing upon the rocks. In the coal
mines near Dresden, in Germany, there are certain mosses, which are
said to be abundant and luminous. They are described by a visitor as
appearing in “wonderful beauty,” and he says, “The impression produced
by the spectacle, I can never forget. The abundance of these plants
was so great, that the roof, and the walls, and the pillars, were
entirely covered with them. The beautiful light they cast around, was
almost dazzling; it resembled faint moonshine, so that two persons,
near each other, could readily distinguish their bodies.”
The phosphorescence of the sea presents a most remarkable spectacle.
Sometimes the vessel, while ploughing her way through the billows,
appears to mark out a furrow of fire. Each stroke of an oar gives rise
to sparks of light, sometimes tranquil and pearly, at others brilliant
and dazzling. These movable lights, too, are grouped in endless
varieties; their thousand luminous points, like little stars,
appearing to float on the surface; and their matter forming one vast
sheet of light. At such times, the bright waves heave, roll, and break
in shining foam; or large sparkling bodies, resembling the forms of
fishes, pursue each other, disappearing and bursting forth anew.
Beautiful illuminations of the same kind are frequently seen at a
great depth in the clear water, which in the night time becomes jet
black. Often, through this dark, yet limpid medium, have voyagers
amused themselves, by tracking the routes of large fishes, such as
porpoises or sharks, gleaming along in lines of light beneath the
abyss, itself invisible with gloom.
As Captain Tuckey passed in his voyage towards Prince’s Island, the
ship seemed to be sailing on a sea of milk. In order to discover the
cause of such an appearance, a bag, having its mouth distended by a
hoop, was kept overboard, and, by means of it, vast numbers of small
animals were collected. Among them, were a great many small sea
animals, with innumerable little creatures attached to them, to which
Captain Tuckey principally attributed the whitish color of the water.
[Illustration: _Luminous marine animals, magnified._]
Thirteen species of cancer were observed, not above one fourth of an
inch long; eight having the shape of crabs, and five that of shrimps.
Among these, some luminous creatures were discernible. When one
species was examined by the microscope, in candle-light, the luminous
property was observed to reside in the brain, which, when the animal
was at rest, resembled a most brilliant amethyst, about the size of a
large pin’s head; and from this there darted, when the animal moved,
flashes of a brilliant and silvery light.
Of the number of these little creatures, of some of which a magnified
representation is here annexed, some interesting statements are
furnished by Captain Scoresby. “During a run of fifty leagues,” he
says, “the sea was constantly of an olive-green color, remarkably
tinted; but, on the afternoon of the 17th of April, it changed to
transparent blue. This green appearance of the sea in these latitudes,
was occasioned by myriads of small marine animals. A calculation of
the number of these animals, in the space of two miles square, and two
hundred and fifty fathoms deep, gave an amount of 23,888,000,000,000!
“On September 1st, the sea was colored in veins or patches, of a brown
color, or sometimes with a yellowish green; and this water, on being
examined by the microscope, appeared swarming with minute marine
animals. A drop of this water contained twenty-six thousand five
hundred animalculæ. Hence, reckoning sixty drops to a drachm, there
would be a number in a gallon of water exceeding by one half the
amount of the whole population of the globe. It affords an interesting
conception of the minuteness of some tribes of animals, when we think
of more than twenty-six thousand individuals, living, obtaining
subsistence, and moving perfectly at their ease, in a single drop of
water!”
A sea is required for a whale to spout in; but a common tumbler
affords abundant space for a hundred and fifty millions of these
little creatures! The phosphorescent appearances presented by them are
not, however, without an important design. It is probable that God,
whose knowledge is unbounded, foreseeing that man would learn to
traverse the mighty deep, and explore the most distant regions of the
globe, has given this brightness to the ocean to lessen his dangers,
and to render his nights less gloomy.
Especially will this seem likely, when it is remembered that it is
seen only in the night season, and is vivid in proportion to the
darkness. It disappears even before the feeble light of the moon, and
increases with the agitation of the sea; so that, during the
prevalence of a storm, it generally diminishes the dense gloom, which
at such times even the moon and stars cannot penetrate. It casts such
a light on the ship and rigging, that the sailors may execute their
allotted tasks with certainty, and at all times it points out to the
cautious mariner the lurking danger of sunken rocks, shoals and
unknown coasts.
It is well known that sea animals, larger than those minute creatures
of which we have been speaking, have also the power of emitting light.
Pliny tells us, that some of the old Romans, in his time, used to sup
in darkened apartments upon the _pholas_, a kind of shellfish, which
gave out sparks of light, and amused the people, while they gratified
their appetites. A traveller in a remote land, speaks of fishes that
played around the boats, each being encircled by a halo of light.
But the land has its luminous animals, as well as the sea. The
glow-worm is common in Europe: this is a female beetle, without wings.
It emits a light of a sulphur color, so strong that if placed at night
on a page of small print, it may be easily read. In Africa there is an
insect that emits light from two globes, like lamps, upon its horns.
The fire-fly of South America is very common, and its light is so
brilliant as that several put together will enable a person to see to
write. The fire-fly of our country, which seems to make the landscape
at night sparkle as with a thousand gems, is smaller than that of
South America.
In the East Indies, thousands of lantern-flies, sending forth a
beautiful illumination, are seen dancing at night amid the banyan
trees; and candle-flies, of which we give a cut at the head of this
article, have a similar power.
These are a few of the facts connected with the luminous qualities of
plants and animals. We do not fully understand the uses of these
powers, but we can see that the subject of light is very extensive,
and that the study of it leads to a great many curious and wonderful
realities.
Herons and Rooks.
At Dallam Tower, in Westmoreland, England, there were, some years ago,
two groves adjoining the park, one of which, for many years, had been
resorted to by a number of herons; the other was one of the largest
rookeries in the country. The two tribes lived together for a long
time without any disputes. At length, the trees occupied by the
herons, consisting of some very fine old oaks, were cut down in the
spring of 1775, and the young birds had perished by the fall of the
timber. The parent birds immediately set about preparing new
habitations to breed again; but as the trees in the neighborhood of
their old nests were only of a late growth, and not high enough to
secure them from the depredations of the boys, they determined to
effect a settlement in the rookery. The rooks made an obstinate
resistance, but, after a very violent contest, in the course of which
some on both sides lost their lives, the herons at last succeeded in
their attempt――built their nests, and brought up their young.
The next season, the same contests took place, which terminated, like
the former, by the victory of the herons. From that time, peace seemed
to have been agreed upon between them; the rooks relinquished
possession of that part of the grove which the herons occupied; the
herons confined themselves to those trees they first seized upon, and
the two species lived together in as much harmony as they did before
their quarrel.
――――
When Mr. West, grandson of Sir Benjamin, was in this country,
exhibiting the great picture of “Christ rejected,” he employed a man
to hang it up in the exhibition-room. Accordingly, the latter brought
in a bill “for hanging Christ rejected by your grandfather.”
[Illustration: _Dr. Vince seeing the images of a ship in the air._]
Spectral Illusions.
The atmosphere has the power of bending the rays of light, so that we
see the sun before it actually rises above the horizon, and after it
has actually sunk below it.
This bending of the rays, produces some curious appearances, and which
were formerly viewed with superstition. Dr. Vince, an English
philosopher, was once looking through a telescope at a ship, which was
so far off, that he could only see the upper parts of the masts. The
hulk was entirely hidden by the bending of the water, but between
himself and the ship, he saw two perfect images of it in the air.
These were of the same form and color as the real ship; but one of
them was turned upside down.
When Captain Scoresby was in the Polar Sea with his ship, he was
separated by the ice from that of his father for some time, and looked
out for her every day with great anxiety. At length, one evening, to
his utter astonishment, he saw her suspended in the air, in an
inverted position, traced on the horizon in the clearest colors, and
with the most distinct and perfect representation. He sailed in the
direction in which he saw this visionary phenomenon, and actually
found his father’s vessel by its indication. He was separated from the
ship by immense masses of icebergs, and at such a distance that it was
impossible to have seen her in her actual situation, or to have seen
her at all, if her spectrum had not been thus raised several degrees
above the horizon in the air by this most extraordinary refraction.
It is by this bending of the rays of light that the images of people
are often seen at a distance, and sometimes magnified to a gigantic
size. We have given an account of such an appearance in the Hartz
mountains, in Germany, in the Museum, Vol. i. p. 79.
[Illustration: _Rousette Bat._]
Bats.
Bats are of various sizes and many kinds. In this country there are
various species, but none of them very large. They are generally
innocent creatures, living in dark caverns and hidden places during
the day, and sallying forth to feast upon insects by night. The little
bats that we see flying about of a summer evening, are very amusing
creatures in one respect; if you throw anything up near them, they
will dive at it immediately,――no doubt supposing it to be something to
eat. A boy may throw up his cap, and the bat flies at it instantly, as
if he would make a supper of it.
But in other parts of the world, especially in hot countries, some of
the bats are very large. The rousette bat is found in the great island
of Madagascar, near the southeast shore of Africa. Its wings are
sometimes two feet from tip to tip. But the most frightful kind of bat
is the vampire, which is found in Guiana, on the northeast coast of
South America. The length of its body is about six inches, and the
extent of its outstretched wings two feet.
This creature sucks the blood from men and cattle, while they are fast
asleep, even sometimes till they die; and as the manner in which they
proceed is truly wonderful, I shall endeavor to give a distinct
account of it. Knowing by instinct that the person they intend to
attack is in a sound slumber, they generally alight near the feet,
and, while the creature continues fanning with his enormous wings,
which keeps one cool, he bites a piece out of the tip of the great
toe, so very small indeed, that the head of a pin could scarcely be
received into the wound, which is consequently not painful, yet,
through this orifice, he sucks a great quantity of blood. Cattle they
generally bite in the ear, but always in places where the blood flows
spontaneously.
“Some years ago,” says Mr. Waterton, in his Wanderings in South
America, “I went to the river Panmaron with a Scotch gentleman, by the
name of Turbet. We hung our hammocks in the thatched loft of a
planter’s house. Next morning, I heard this gentleman muttering in his
hammock, and now and then letting fall an exclamation or two. ‘What is
the matter, sir?’ said I; ‘is there anything amiss?’ ‘What’s the
matter?’ said he, surlily, ‘why, the vampires have been sucking me to
death.’ As soon as there was light enough, I went to his hammock, and
saw it much stained with blood. ‘There,’ said he, thrusting his foot
out of the hammock, ‘see how these imps have been drawing my life’s
blood.’
“On examining his foot, I found that the vampire had tapped his great
toe. There was a wound somewhat less than that made by a leech. The
blood was still oozing from it. I conjectured that he might have lost
from ten to twelve ounces of blood. While examining it, I think I put
him into a worse humor, by remarking that an European surgeon would
not have been so generous as to have bled him without making a charge.
He looked up in my face, but did not say a word. I saw he was of the
opinion that I had better have spared this ill-timed piece of levity.”
――――
YANKEE WIT.――A “notion seller” was offering Yankee clocks, finely
varnished and colored, with a looking-glass in front, to a lady not
remarkable for personal beauty. “Why, it’s beautiful!” said the
vender. “Beautiful, indeed! why, a look at it almost frightens me!”
said the lady. “Then, marm,” replied Jonathan, “I guess you’d better
buy one that ha’n’t got no looking-glass.”
――――
A MUSICIAN, in giving notice of an intended concert at Cleveland,
Ohio, says: “A variety of other songs may be expected, too tedious to
mention.”
Kin Shan; or, the Golden Isle.
There is no country more full of wonders than China, yet we know
comparatively little of it. We know, indeed, something about Canton,
near which foreign merchants are permitted to reside; about Nankin,
which is famous for its beautiful pagoda; and about Pekin, which is a
city almost as populous as London, and where the emperor resides. We
know, also, that there are many other large cities in China; we know
that the empire is the most populous in the world, containing three
hundred and forty millions of people.
We know, too, that the Chinese produce tea, and silks, and porcelain,
and many other curious manufactures; that they worship idols, and
sometimes eat worms, birds’ nests, rats and puppies; but still, it has
been the system of the government to exclude foreigners from the
country, and accordingly few travellers have penetrated into its
interior, and given us an account of what is there to be seen. It is
probable that we shall soon know more about China, for the British
have sent soldiers and ships out there, who have made the emperor
agree to be more sociable, and let foreigners come into his domains a
little more. Our government has sent out Mr. Caleb Cushing, of
Newburyport, in Massachusetts, to see the emperor, and make
arrangements for a free trade between the people of China and the
Americans. Mr. Cushing is a very learned man, and it is pretty likely
he and the emperor will come to a good understanding. You must know
that the emperor is fond of fine dress, and expects everybody who
comes to see him, to make a dashing appearance. Accordingly, Mr.
Cushing has carried out a gay military dress, in which he is to
present himself to the emperor. The old man is named Taou-Kwang, and
is over seventy years of age. I should like to see the meeting between
him and Mr. Cushing――shouldn’t you?
When Mr. Cushing comes back, he will write a book, and tell us all
about China. In the mean time, we shall say something about a very
beautiful place, called the Kin Shan, or the Golden Island. This is
not far from the city of Nankin, and near the flourishing city of
Quatchou. It is situated in the river Yangtse-Kiang, and is famous all
over China, for its beauty. It is about three hundred feet high, and
fifteen hundred in circuit. It is rocky and precipitous, but it is
shaded with the loveliest trees. It is also decorated with temples,
devoted to Confucius, Lockien and Fo――the divinities of Chinese
superstition. Here, also, is a palace, erected by the emperor
Kienlong――the grandfather of Taou-Kwang. In this he used to spend a
great deal of time, to get away from the cares of governing such an
empire, and to consider how happy he should be, if he was only a
private individual, and not an emperor!
[Illustration: _The Golden Isle._]
The river, from the top of the Golden Island, is exceedingly
beautiful; and when Mr. Cushing comes back, we must get him to tell us
all about it. Mr. Fletcher Webster has gone with Mr. Cushing, and, as
he is a very pleasant, sociable gentleman, I think he will bring us
some pretty good stories, too. Perhaps he and Mr. Cushing will dine
with the emperor, who doesn’t use knives and forks, but takes up his
food with two sticks, put between the thumb and fingers of the right
hand. These are called chop-sticks. I hope Mr. Cushing and Mr. Webster
will practise the chop-sticks before they dine with the emperor; for
if they do not, I am afraid they will get a poor dinner, and make the
emperor think that the Yankees are rather awkward! If, indeed, the
dinner should consist of salted angle-worms, bird-nest soup, Japan
leather, balls made of sharks’ fins, and figured pigeons’ eggs――all of
which are esteemed great delicacies in China――perhaps the less they
can take up with the chop-sticks, the better they will like it.
Our Correspondence.
A subscriber sends us the following pretty solution of the enigma in
the November number of the Museum:――
When walking by the water’s edge,
We often find the modest _sedge_;
The lamp that guides our weary feet,
Without a _wick_, is incomplete:
But these, united, form the name
Of _Sedgwick_, worthy of her fame.
Several of our little friends have also sent us a correct solution of
the same.
――――
The following will speak for itself:――
MR. ROBERT MERRY,
I like your riddles and charades very much. My mother says
it sharpens the mind to guess them. So, I guess that the
answer to the first riddle, in the November number of the
Museum, is the letter _R_, and that the answer to the second
is the letter _A_. He says that he “is also with a party of
five.” Does this mean that he is one of the five vowels?
I think your Twenty Geographical Questions were very
interesting, but I did not know enough of geography to
answer them.
I am your true friend,
JOHN L――――N.
――――
The following letter is interesting in itself, and it derives
additional value from the fact that it has travelled about a thousand
miles to find us. It was accompanied by correct answers to our Twenty
Geographical Questions; thus showing that our little friends in
Illinois know as much as our Yankee girls and boys. We shall be happy
to be made acquainted with more of them.
MR. MERRY:
In this month’s Museum, we find an invitation to answer
twenty questions which you have proposed, and our indulgent
father has consented to pay the postage if we will find
correct answers and send to you. But how can you expect
children, who live on Rock River, Illinois, to know a great
deal? So, Mr. Merry, if the answers are not all correct, you
must not laugh at us, but please to tell us, in the next
Museum, what the right answers are; and, when it is
convenient, will you tell us a little something about the
two New Holland animals?
We have been threatening you with a letter for a month past;
for you must know that, the 23d of October, the numbers for
September and October arrived, and we verily thought you had
forgotten us, and we should never see the Museum again. Now,
Mr. Merry, you know we cannot get as many books to read as
the children who live east, so we depend upon the Museum,
for both pleasure and profit, more than many of your
black-eyed and blue-eyed readers; so, if you please, we
would like the Museum every month, certainly by the tenth of
the month.
We like the story of Inquisitive Jack very much, and hope he
will not forget, very soon, how to ask questions; we also
are very much interested in Jumping Rabbit’s story.
Blue-eyed EDWARD E. P――――.
Black-eyed S. ADALINE P――――.
Nov. 1st, 1843.
――――
HOLLISTON, Nov. 23.
MR. MERRY:
I take this opportunity to write a few lines. I have taken
your Museum for the year, and I like it very much. I think
if you put in a piece of music it would be much more
interesting. I have always taken an interest in your
Puzzles; and, as you have had none in your last numbers, I
thought I would make one, and if you think it deserves
insertion, you can insert it.
I am composed of fourteen letters.
My 1, 6, 10, 5, 2, 7, is a town in Massachusetts.
My 11, 5, 9, 4, is a place in Boston.
My 5, 9, 7, is a metal.
My 3, 6, 12, 13, 14, 4, is a city in Europe.
My 6, 10, 5, is an insect.
My 4, 6, 1, 11, is a river in New England.
My 12, 9, 7, 14, is a kind of wood.
My 2, 7, 9, 11, 10, is a vegetable.
My 10, 6, 9, 13, is a very useful article.
My 6, 1, 8, 11, 3, is a town in Massachusetts.
My 14, 5, 10, 6, is a burning mountain.
My 13, 14, 6, 4, 8, is an adjective.
My 14, 6, 4, 8, is a point of the compass.
My 9, 13, 13, 9, 3, 11, 9, 4, is one of the States.
My whole is a city on the eastern continent.
From a black-eyed friend,
H. P――――.
――――
The following letter from Washington is very acceptable, and we hope
our little friend will continue his interesting correspondence:――
MR. MERRY:
I have come on to Washington with my father, to spend the
winter here, and I thought I would write, and tell you
something about Washington. It is a pretty large place, but
it is scattered about, and looks like a great city broken
into a great many pieces. The capitol is situated on the
brow of a hill, and is a very fine building, of white
freestone. It is the handsomest building I ever saw. The
grounds around it are so neat, and have such fine walks! And
then there are so many pretty trees scattered about in
groups! And then there are beautiful fountains, out of which
the water is spouting as bright as flowing silver!
The capitol is twice as large as the Boston state-house, and
has a vast number of rooms, and passages, and staircases. I
got quite lost and bewildered in it several times, but I can
find my way pretty well now. There is a large circular room
in the middle of the building, called the Rotunda. It is
lighted at the top, by the dome or cupola.
Around the sides of the rotunda are several carvings and
pictures. One of the latter represents the marriage of
Pocahontas to Rolfe, the Englishman. It is a very large
picture indeed, the figures being as large as life. It is
very interesting.
The House of Representatives and the Senate, being called
Congress, meet in two different rooms in the capitol. The
United States Court also meet every winter in a room in the
capitol.
I have only been to the House of Representatives yet. The
room is a half circle, very lofty, and supported by
beautiful pillars of many-colored marble. There are about
two hundred and thirty members; and what strikes me as very
odd is, that they sit with their hats on. If they were boys,
they would have to take their hats off; for boys are
expected to observe good manners, but men and members of
Congress, I suppose, may do as they please.
The Speaker is Mr. Jones, of Virginia; a man of dark
complexion, and plain appearance. He is also a little lame.
Yet he seems to be a mild and good man. But there is one
thing that he ought to pay attention to. He being chairman,
the members must address their speeches to him. When they
begin, they say _Mr. Chairman_; and sometimes they speak of
addressing the _chair_. Now, what I notice as wrong is this,
that many of the members say _cheer_ and _cheerman_! Would
you believe, Mr. Merry, that such things would be tolerated
in the Congress of the United States? Why, any school-boy
would get a striped jacket for talking through his nose, and
murdering the English tongue in this fashion; but I suppose
members of Congress may do as they please.
I had the pleasure of hearing Mr. Adams, of Massachusetts,
make a speech. He is very old, and his hand trembles, and
his voice breaks. I was sorry to see that he got very
angry――very angry indeed. It seems to me that such an old
man should not get angry; but perhaps I am wrong, for I am
only a boy. I should have loved him, if he had been mild,
and calm, and dignified.
I must now close my letter: perhaps I shall write you again.
Good bye.
Yours, truly,
JAMES NORTON.
[Music:] The Two Leaves.
MUSIC COMPOSED BY GEO. J. WEBB.
Upon a bough a yellow leaf,
Seemed sad and sighing, full of grief;
While bright beside it gaily sung
Another leaf, still green and young;
And then the old leaf whisper’d light,
Unto its neighbor fair and bright――
“Why giddy leaf art thou so gay,
While I, thy sister, fade away?
While I, thy sister, fade away?
“Look down, and mark the valley deep,
Where we must soon in shadow sleep;
And is it meet so frail a thing,――
A trembling leaf,――should dance and sing?”
The green leaf, answering, softly sung,
“Sweet sister, once thyself was young,
And thy fond bosom danced with bliss,
E’en though the zephyr stole a kiss!
“I sing a soft and cheerful lay,
Perchance, because my heart is gay;
Perchance to please a floweret, born
Beside me on my own birth-morn.
“So pray forgive, my sister sere,
If more I court the smile than tear;
And when I’m yellow, withered, pale,
I’ll sigh, and sink in yonder vale.”
MERRY’S MUSEUM.
Vol. VII. FEBRUARY, 1844. No. 2.
[Illustration (ice skaters)]
[Illustration: F]ebruary is upon us; a severe, unrelenting month,
in which winter seems to reign, in these northern regions, with
resistless sway. Far to the south, as in Georgia and Louisiana,
the birds have chosen their mates and are building their nests;
the peas in the gardens are in blossom; the strawberries are
beginning to form, and the lilacs and roses are in bloom. But
here, alas, the rivers are in icy fetters――the earth is wrapt in
snow――and not a symptom of starting vegetation is seen over the
whole face of nature.
It may seem strange that February should be the coldest month in
the year――yet so it is. In December we have the shortest days;
then the nights are longest, and the sun bestows upon us the
least warmth; why, then, should not December be the coldest
month? The reason is this. In February, the heat has gone from
the earth; the frost, ice and snow have accumulated; and these
exercise an influence which the heat of the sun cannot yet
overcome. If the sun remained as it is during the winter months,
all vegetation would finally cease in our climate, and the whole
country would remain buried in snow and ice.
In England, February has nearly the same character as our March,
and it is regarded as the opening of spring. There the birds pair
in February, and the blackbird, thrush and chaffinch fill the
woods with their songs. The ravens begin to build their nests,
the moles in the ground throw up their little hillocks, and some
intrepid plants put forth their blossoms. The snow-drops, “fair
maids of February,” as they are there called, often peep out,
even though it be amidst the snow――the alder-tree discloses the
flower-buds――and the catkins of the hazel become conspicuous in
the hedges. This is the picture of things in _old_ England. What
a different picture is before us in New England!
The Three Sovereigns.
The following anecdote was often told by the late emperor Alexander,
and is amongst the traditions of the Russian court:
In 1814, during the period that the allies were masters of Paris, the
Czar, who resided in the hotel of M. de Talleyrand, was in the daily
habit of taking a walk, (in strict _incognito_,) every morning, in the
garden of the Tuilleries, and thence to the Palais Royale. He one day
met two other sovereigns, and the three were returning arm-in-arm to
breakfast in the Rue St. Florentin, when, on their way thither, they
encountered a provincial, evidently freshly imported to Paris, and who
had lost his way.
“Gentlemen,” said he, “can you tell me which is the Tuilleries?”
“Yes,” replied Alexander; “follow us; we are going that way, and will
show you.”
Thanks on the part of the countryman led them soon into conversation.
A few minutes sufficed to arrive at the palace; and as here their
routes lay in opposite directions, they bade each other reciprocally
adieu.
“_Parbleu!_” cried the provincial, “I should be glad to know the names
of persons so amiable and complaisant as you are.”
“My name?” said the first――“Oh, certainly; you have, perhaps, heard of
me; I am the emperor Alexander.”
“A capital joke,” exclaimed the Gascon――“An emperor! And you?”
addressing the second individual,――“Who may you be?”
“I?” replied he; “why, probably, I am not wholly unknown to you, at
least by name; I am the king of Prussia!”
“Better and better,” said the man. “And you, what are you, then?”
looking at the third person.
“I am the emperor of Austria!”
“Perfect, perfect!” exclaimed the provincial, laughing with all his
might.
“But you, monsieur,” said the emperor Alexander, “surely you will also
let us know whom we have the honor to speak to?”
“To be sure,” replied the man, quitting them with an important strut,
“I am the Great Mogul.”
WRITTEN ON A BOY’S MARBLE.
The world’s something bigger,
But just of this figure,
And speckled with mountains and seas,
Your heroes are overgrown schoolboys,
Who scuffle for empires and toys,
And kick the poor ball as they please.
Now Cæsar, now Pompey, gives law;
And Pharsalia’s plain,
Though heaped with the slain,
Was only a game at _taw_.
_Mrs. Barbauld_
Inquisitive Jack.