(_A servent coming in with a parcel_.)
_Louisa_.
Ah! there is a parcel: I dare say it is from Charles. Do, pray give it
me, Mary:--I am sure I shall have a letter. He promised to write to me
the next opportunity. May I open it, mamma?
_Mrs. B_. You may, Louisa.
_Louisa_. Emily, be so good as to lend me your scissors; the string has
got into a hard knot:--I shall not have untied it this hour. I will just
give it a little snip and it will be off in a minute.
_Mr. B_. How, Louisa! Have you so soon forgotten the applicaiton of the
story with which you were so much pleased a week ago?
_Louisa_. Oh! I recollect: "Waste not--want not." But then, papa, it is
so tantalizing to know there is a letter for one, and not to be able to
get at it for such a long time; particularly when it comes from Charles,
for he does not write to me very often. Do pray let me cut it this once.
On any other occasion, I should have patience to untie the knot, I am
sure.
_Mr. B_. We are all apt, Louisa, to think it more difficult to act with
propriety under the very circumstances in which we happen to be placed,
than we should do under others; but, if we would learn wisdom, and
acquire the esteem of the good, we must _always_ endeavour to do the
very best that circumstances will allow. By making this principle the
rule of our conduct on trifling occasions, we shall acquire, as it were,
the habit of correctness and propriety of conduct, which will be very
valuable to us in the more important actions of our lives.
_Louisa_. Well, papa, I have been trying, all the time you have been
talking, to untie this string, and it really was not in so hard a knot
as I expected, for it is undone: and now I will endeavour to remember
you kind advice, and be more patient in the future. Oh! here is my
letter. What a long one it seems to be! And here is a short one for you,
mamma, with a little parcel for Sophy.
_Mrs. B_. Well, my dear Louisa, I am almost as anxious as you are, to
hear the contents of the letter: but do not be in a hurry. Read it
slowly, and very distinctly.
Louia promised to do her best, and began as follows:
"MY DEAR LOUISA,
"It is a long time since I wrote to you last, but I must not have you,
on that account, suppose I have forgotten you; for I really think more
of you now I am away, than I used to do when we were all at home
together. I am very happy in my new situation. Instead of finding a
severe master, as I sometimes feared might be the case, I seem to have
gained a second father in Mr. Lewis; and Mrs. Lewis is almost as
affectionate to me as my own dear mother. It shall be my constant
endeavour, by strict attention to my business, to prove myself grateful
for their kindness. I have my evenings completely to myself, which I
endeavour to employ profitably, according to my dear father's advice. I
am studying natural history, and, if it would afford you any amusement,
I should like to make my progress in that study, the subject of my
future letters. I shall not, however, begin that plan till I hear from
you, to know if it will be agreeable to you.
"A few evenings ago, I paid a very pleasant visit to an old friend of
Mr. Lewis's, which will afford me ample materials for this letter. He is
what Mr. Lewis calls a _virtuoso_, which signifies, a person fond of
antique and natural curiosities. You will, therefore, suppose I was not
at a loss for amusement. In one cabinet was a number of stuffed birds
and beasts; amongst others, a little animal somewhat resembling a rat,
but rather smaller. It legs are short and slender; the fore-legs longer
than the hind ones. Its head is of a pointed form; the colour of its
body tawny, and variegated with large black spots, irregularly arranged;
and the belly is white, tinged with yellow. There appeared to me so
little that was uncommon in this animal, that I could not help asking
Dr. Sinclair, on what account he had given it a place among so many
curiosities. 'I value that little animal,' said he, 'as much as any in
my collection. It is the Leming, or Lapland Marmot, and is distinguished
from other quadrupeds, by habits peculiar to itself. It is only found in
the northern part of our continent, where immense numbers of these
little animals sometimes overspread large tracts of country, especially
in Lapland, Sweden, and Norway. Their appearance happens at uncertain
periods; but fortunately for the inhabitants of these countries, not
oftener than once or twice in twenty years. As the source whence they
originate in such astonishing numbers, is as yet unexplored by the
naturalist, it is no wonder that the ignorant Laplander should seriously
believe that they are rained from the clouds. Myriads of these animals
pour down from the mountains, and form an overwhelming troop, which
nothing can resist. The disposition of their march is generally in
lines, about three feet asunder, and exactly parallel. In this order
they advance with as much regularity as a well-disciplined army; and, it
is remarked, that their course is from the north-west or south-east.
They frequently cover the extent of a square mile, travelling in the
night. They always halt in the day, and in the evening resume their
march. No opposition can stop them; and, whatever way their course is
directed, neither fire not water can turn them out of their road. If a
lake or river intercept their progress, they will swim across, or perish
in the attempt; if a fire interrupt their course, they instantly plunge
into the flames; if a well, they dart down into it; if a hay-rick, they
eat through it; and, if a house stand in their way, they either attempt
to climb over it, or eat through it; but, if both be impracticable, they
will rather die with famine before it, than turn out of the way. If
thousands perish, thousands still supply their place, until the whole
column be destroyed. Wherever they pass, they annihilate every trace of
vegetation, and, when subsistence fails, are said to divide into two
different armies, which engage with the most deadly hostility, and
continue fighting and devouring each other, till they are all entirely
destroyed. Numbers of them are devoured by foxes, weasels, &c. which
follow them in their march, so that none are ever known to return from
their migrations."
"I thanked Dr. Sinclair for his curious and entertraining account, with
which, I hope, my dear Louisa, you also have been amused. A very
beautiful, large, white cat, took possession of Dr. Sinclair's kneee,
the moment he seated himself in his elbow chair by the fire-side. It
licked his hand in a caressing manner, and seemed, by every means in its
power, to testify the greatest affection towards him. From the old
gentleman's kindness, in giving me so amusing an account of the Leming,
I was encouraged to enter into conversation with him upon the merits of
his cat. 'Some naturalists,' said I, 'have represented that animal as
insensible of kindness, and incapable of attachment; but I cannot help
thinking this is a great mistake. We have a cat, at houme, that is very
fond of me; and yours, Sir, seems much attached to you.' 'The cat is, on
many accounts, unjustly aspersed,' said he: 'excepting the dog, I know
of no animal that appears capable of stronger attachment. It is also
reproached with treachery and cruelty; but are not the artifices it
uses, the particular instincts which the all-wise Creator has given it,
conformable to the purposes for which it is designed? Being destined to
prey upon the mouse, a lively, active animal, possessing many means of
escape, artifice is absolutely necessary for the accomplishment of its
end. I can, however, say nothing in extenuation of its cruelty, in
sporting with the unfortunate victim that falls into its power, in
prolonging its tortures, and putting it to a lingering death. This, it
must be confessed, is not a very favourable trait in its character.
Notwithstanding all this, it certainly renders very essential services
to man, and merits, in return, his kindness and protection.' I admired
the beauty of Tom, for so Dr. Sinclair calls his favourite. 'His beauty
is not his most remarkable property,' said the Doctor: 'this cat was
once the cause of detecting a murderer.' I was astonished, as I doubt
not, you, Louisa, will be also, and requested he would relate to me the
particulars of so extraordinary a fact. This he kindly did, as follows:
"Some time ago, when I was pursuing the duties of my profession, as a
physician, I was requested to enquire into the particulars of a murder,
that had been committed upon a woman in the city where I lived. In
consequence of this request, I went to the habitation of the deceased,
where I found her extended lifeless on the floor, and weltering in her
blood. This cat was mounted on the cornice of a cupboard, at the
further end of the apartment, where he seemed to have taken refuge. He
sat motionless, with his eyes fixed on the corpse, and his attitude and
looks expressing horror and affright. The following morning, he was
found precisely in the same position; and, when the room was filled with
officers of justice, neither the clattering of the soldier's arms, nor
the loud conversations of the company, could, in the least degree,
divert his attention. As soon, however, as the suspected persons were
brought in, his eyes glared with increased fury, his hair bristled, he
darted into the middle of the apartment, where he stopped for a moment
to gaze at them, and then retreated precipitately under the bed. The
countenances of the assassins were disconcerted, and they were, for the
first time during the whole course of the horrid business, abandoned by
their usual audacity. I felt much interested for poor puss, and, as no
other person laid claim to him, I secured him for myself; and Tom and I
have been the best friends imaginable, ever since.'
"I felt my respect for Tom greatly increased by this story, the detail
of which has so completely filled my letter, that I have not space to
tell you of half the curiosities contained in Dr. Sinclair's cabinet.
One thing, however, I must find room to describe; this is, a piece of
cloth, which, judging merely from its outward appearance, I considered
still more unworthy than the little Leming, of a place among so many
rarities, and again ventured to express my surprise. 'Never allow
yourself to form such hasty conclusions, my dear boy,' said Dr.
Sinclair, taking my hand in the kindest manner: 'a rough exterior often
conceals real merit. This you will find to be the case in your future
commerce with the world, as well as in examining the cabinet of a
_virtuoso_. That piece of cloth, and this bit of paper,' said he,
opening one of the drawers and showing it to me, 'are made from a stone
called asbestos.' 'A stone!' said I, with astonishment: 'is that
possible, Sir?' 'It is very true, my dear,' replied he: 'this kind of
linen cloth was greatly esteemed by the ancients. It was considered as
precious as the richest pearls. The most remarkable property belonging
to it, is, its being incombustible; that is, it cannot be consumed by
fire. Among the Romans, napkins were made of it, which when soiled,
were thrown into the fire, and by this means much more completely
cleaned, than they could have been by washing. Its principal use was
for making shrouds, to wrap up the dead bodies of their kings, so that
their ashes might be preserved distinct from those of the wood composing
the funeral pile.'
"I enquired where this very curious stone was found. He told me that
there were ten species of it, and that it was discovered in many of the
European mountains, particularly in those of Lapland, Sweden, and
Germany; as well as in Candia, an island of the Mediterranean; and in
China.
"I enquired, whether it was used for any other purpose than the
manufacture of cloth and paper. To which Dr. Sinclair replied, that he
understood, the Chinese employed it as an ingredient in the formation of
their finest porcelain.
"You may easily imagine, my dear Louisa, how much I enjoyed the
conversation of this kind and sensible man. I hope Mr. Lewis will allow
me to accompany him, the next time he pays him a visit. And now I must
beg of you to give my love to little Sophy, and tell her I have sent her
a work-bag and pin-cushion, and hope I shall hear she grows very notable
and industrious. Give my duty to my dear father and mother; and love to
Emily, Edward, and Ferdinand; and believe me, my dear Louisa, your
affectionate brother,
"CHARLES BERNARD."
_Mrs. B._ Very well, Louisa, you have done your brother's letter
justice, by the manner in which you have read it; and great amusement it
has afforded me, I assure you.
_Emily_. I have been both amused and instructed by it. I never heard
of the Leming before; it is a most curious little animal. I am glad
Clarles is studying natural history, as, no doubt, he will meet with
many pretty anecdotes to relate to us. Is it not a pleasing science,
mamma?
_Mrs. B._. It is, indeed, my dear. No study tends so greatly to
enlarge the mind. You already know something of botany, and have
admired the wisdom manifested in the formation of the minutest flower;
for
"Not a tree,
A plant, a leaf, a blossom, but contains
A folio volume.
We may read, and read,
And read again, and still find something new;
Something to please, and something to instruct,
E'en in the nuisanceweed."
A deeper research into the beauties of nature, will excite in you still
greater attentions and astonishment, and will, I am sure, fill you with
reverence towards the Divine Author of so many wonders. I hope Charles
will not merely relate to us the amusing anecdotes he meets with, but
enter scientifically upon the subject; as it is impossible to gain clear
ideas, without great method and regularity.
_Louisa_. I hope, mamma, we shall not, in natural history, have long
lists of classes and orders to learn by heart, as we had when we began
botany; for I cannot say I think all those hard names at all
entertaining.
_Mrs. B._ Perhaps not, my dear; but nothing that is valuable, can be
attained without difficulty. I would wish to smooth the path for you as
much as I can, but learning is "labour, call it what you will;" and
without strict attention, and industrious perseverance, you will never
attain perfection in any thing. The classes and orders in that division
of natural history, called the animal kingdom, are, however, by no means
difficult. There are, in botany, as you no doubt recollect, twenty-four
classes; in natural history, there are but six.
"Will you be so kind as to repeat them to us, mamma?" said Louisa.
_Mrs. B._ Willingly, my dear. The first is called Mammalia, and
consists of Quadrupeds and Whales; the second, Birds; third, Amphibia;
fourth, Fishes; fifth, Insects; and sixth, Worms.
_Louisa_. That seems very easy. I think I could soon learn those six
classes. Are there many orders, mamma?
_Mrs. B._ In the class Mammalia there are seven. But we must not talk
of them just at present, or our Roman history will be forgotten.
_Edward_. Before we change the subject, will you be so good as to tell
me, mamma, what you meant by saying, that division of natural history
called the animal kingdom. Are there, then, many divisions?
_Mrs. B._ There are three, my dear. The first consisting of Minerals;
the second, of Vegetables; and the third, of Animals.
_Mr. B._ Well, my dears, now do not forget what you have been already
told, and another day we will talk further on this subject: for the
present, let us attend to our history. We concluded with the death of
Ancus Martius. Who succeeded to the crown, Emily?
_Emily._ Lucius Tarquinius Priscus. He was the son of a merchant of
Corinth, which is a large city of Greece. This man had acquired a
considerable fortune by trade, which was inherited by his son Lucumo,
who took the name of Tarquinius, from Tarquinia, a city of Hetruria,
where his wife Tanaquil lived, previous to her marriage. His birth being
considered contemptible by the nobles of this place, he, by his wife's
persuasions, settled in Rome, where merit alone gave distinction.
_Mr. B._ What remarkable circumstance is said to have occurred to him
on his way thither, Ferdinand?
_Ferdinand._ As he approached the city gate, historians say, that an
eagle, stooping from above, took off his hat, and, after flying round
his chariot for some time, with a great noise, put it on again. From
this circumstance, his wife, Tanaquil, foretold that he would one day
wear the crown.
_Mr. B._ By what means, Edward, did he obtain this object of his
ambition?
_Edward._ The two sons of Ancus were left under his guardianship. He
was a skillful politician, and found out the secret of making himself a
great favourite with the people. He used every artifice to set aside
these children, and to get himself elected in their stead. For this
purpose, he contrived to have them sent out of the city, and made a long
speech, mentioning his friendship for the people, the fortune he had
spent among them, together with his knowledge of their government, and
concluded by offering himself for their king. The people, with one
consent, elected him as their sovereign.
_Mr. B._ Pray, Louisa, can you tell me how he has governed the city he
had so unjustly obtained?
_Louisa._ Much more properly, papa, than might have been expected. The
first thing he did, was to add a hundred members to the senate: so that
it now consisted of three hundred. He was disposed to live in peace, but
the Latins and Sabines rose up against him: however, after a severe
conflict, he subdued them both. Peace being restored, he employed his
subjects in many useful works for the improvement of the city, that they
might not grow corrupted through indolence.
_Mr. B._ This conduct in Tarquinius, shows great wisdom; for it is very
true, that "idleness is the root of all evil." In states it foments
discord, and in private life occasions misery and ruin. Well,
Ferdinand, what have you to tell us?
_Ferdinand_. There is a curious account of Attius Nævius, a famous
augur, (this signifies a kind of prophet, who could foretel future
events.) The Romans used to place great confidence in these people, and
Tarquinius, wishing to try this man's skill, sent for him; and, when he
was come into the midst of the Forum, said to him: "diviner, canst thou
discover, by thy art, whether what I am thinking of can be done or not?
Go and consult thy birds." The augur did as he was ordered, and
returning quickly, answered: "Yes, Tarquin, my art tells me, that what
thou art thinking of may be done." Upon which Tarquin pulled a razor
from under his robe, took a flint in his hand, and replied,
contemptuously, "I was thinking, whether it were possible to cut this
flint with this razor. I have taken thee in thy own craft. The
introducing of the gods into thy decisions, is all cheat and imposture.
If thou canst do what is impossible, do." At these words the people
burst out a laughing, but the augur did not appear at all moved. He, on
the contrary, addressed himself to the king, with a bold air, and said,
"Put the razor to the flint and try. I readily submit to any
punishment, if what you thought of be not done." Upon trial, the razor
passed through with the greatest ease. The people then gave a loud
shout, and the king's contempt for the augur was turned into admiration.
This is a very extraordinary account: but do you think it is true, papa.
_Mr. B._ I do not, my dear. I think it is a mere fabulous invention;
and this was the opinion of the great orator, Tully, who was himself an
augur. Writing to his brother, he says, "Look with contempt on the
razor and flint of the famous Attius. When we reason as philosophers,
we ought to lay no stress upon fables." How did Tarquin close his long
life, Emily?
_Emily_. In the eightieth year of his age, and thirty-seventh of his
reign, he was murdered by the artifices of the sons of Ancus Martius.
They hired two young men, who dressed themselves like peasants, with
hatchets on their shoulders, as if they had been wood-cutters. They
approached the kings palace, pretending to have a quarrel about some
goats, and made so much disturbance, that they were carried before the
king. At first they began to rail at each other, until a lictor
interfered, and ordered them to speak by turns. Then one of them began
to tell his story, and, whilst the king was listening to it very
attentively, the other, lifting up his hatchet, gave him a deep wound on
his head, and instantly ran out of doors with his companion. Whilst some
of the company hastened to assist the king, others pursued the ruffians
and seized them. On being put to the torture, they confessed by whom
they had been employed.
_Ferdinand_. Pray, papa, what is the meaning of being put to the
torture?
_Mr. B._ It is a most barbarous punishment, my dear. The unhappy
victim is extended upon a wheel, which stretches his limbs till they are
all dislocated; and it has frequently happened, that many poor wretches,
unable to endure such severe torments, have made confessions of crimes
they never committed, in order to free themselves from the severity of
their sufferings. How did queen Tansquil set upon the death of her
husband?
_Edward_. She did not lose her presence of mind, but cleared the
palace of the crowd, shutting herself up in the apartment of the
expiring king, with only Servius Tullius, who was her son-in-law, his
wife, and Octivia his mother. She pressed him to ascend the throne,
that Tarquin's two grandsons might be safe under his protection: then,
opening the window which looked into the street, she bade the people be
under no concern, since the wound was not deep, and the king, having
only been stunned by the sudden blow, was come to himself. She concluded
by expressing her hopes, that they would see him again very shortly;
declaring that it was their sovereign's orders, that, till that time,
they should obey Servius Tullius. This stratagem succeeded. The report
that the king would soon be well again, so terrified the sons of Ancus,
that they went, of their own accord, into banishment.
_Mr. B._ How did Servius proceed, Louisa?
_Louisa_. The second day after the murder of Tarquin, he took his seat
on the throne, in the royal robes, and heard causes; some of which he
decided himself, and, in difficult cases, pretended he would consult the
king. He continued this management some time, and by his prudent
conduct gained the love of the people. At last, when he thought his
authority well established, the death of Tarquin was announced, as a
thing which had just happened, and Servius continued in power, without
being positively chosen as king. That is all we have read at present,
papa. I hope we shall hear something more about Servius, as I do not
think I clearly understand who he was, except that he was son-in-law to
Tarquinius. _Mr. B._ Oh, no doubt, all those matters will be cleared up
to your satisfaction to-morrow, Louisa. For the present we must
separate, my dears, as our conversation has been already prolonged
beyond your usual hour. Good night, my dear children.