contested among commentators; but the greatest number of opinions seem
to be in favour of Clysma; a point several hours journey from the town
of Suez, which stands at the head of the western gulf. The names that
some of the places in the vicinity still retain, appear to confirm this
supposition; for instance, the ridge of hills extending from the Nile to
this part of the coast is called Ataka, which means _deliverance_; and
the narrow plain to the southward of that ridge preserves the name of
Wadi-et-tiheh, or the _Valley of the Wandering_. On the opposite shore
of the Red Sea there is a headland called Ras Mousa, or the _Cape of
Moses_; farther to the southward, Hammam Faraun, _Pharaoh’s Baths_; and
the general name of this part of the gulf is Bahr el Kolsum, or the _Bay
of Submission_. From these circumstances it may be concluded that the
Israelites crossed the western arm of the Red Sea, about twelve or
thirteen miles from Suez; and it appears from my uncle’s maps that the
sea there is eight or nine miles broad.
My uncle says it is the opinion of some geographers that formerly the
Red Sea did not stop at Suez; and modern travellers have described a
large plain which is considerably lower than the surface of the sea, and
which extends seven or eight leagues to the northward of that town. This
plain is two leagues in breadth; and from the thick layer of salt, and
the quantity of shells which are every where found under the soil, they
say there can be no doubt that it was once the bed of the sea. I asked
what could have driven the sea out, if ever it had been there? But he
said there was no difficulty in that; for rivers and narrow seas are
continually changing their boundaries by the sand which their tides and
currents throw up; and as soon as ever the Red Sea had washed up a new
barrier at Suez, evaporation in that climate would rapidly dry the part
that had been cut off.
It has been asked, were there not ledges of rock lying across the Red
Sea, on which, when the tide was out, the Israelites might have forded
it. “But,” says my uncle, “if we do not believe the transaction to have
been miraculous, we may as well not believe it all; for the event, as
well as the miracle, rest on precisely the same authority. At the same
time, do not suppose that I wish to discourage these inquiries; they are
of considerable use;--they lead to the investigation of facts, and the
more strictly the Bible is examined, the more we shall be satisfied of
its truth. The attention of the celebrated travellers Niebuhr and Bruce
was particularly directed to that question; and they distinctly assert
that there are no rocks there whatever.”
My uncle concluded the conversation by saying, “Many of the Fathers have
supposed it to have been the opinion of St. Paul, that the passage
through the waters of the Red Sea was intended as a type of the
Christian baptism, and of our conditional resurrection to eternal
happiness. And it was this idea that probably induced the framers of our
liturgy to introduce the history of that event into the service
appointed for the day of our Lord’s resurrection.”
_19th._--We amused ourselves for some time after dinner this evening
with our favourite question-play, animal, vegetable, and mineral;
Marianne is well acquainted with it.
I thought of sponge as a good puzzling thing: however, it puzzled me not
a little, in the progress of their questions, to describe it
satisfactorily. In the first place, I had heard some one tell you that
sponge was a vegetable production--but I have since read that it is a
substance formed by some species of marine worm; so when I was forced to
give distinct answers to the questions, was it animal, or was it
vegetable, I was divided between those two ideas. Then came questions as
to what part of the world it was found in; and I set them all wrong by
saying, only in the Mediterranean. In short, I found that even in
children’s plays people may have to blush for their ignorance.
After I had puzzled in and out of the question, and that our play was
ended, my uncle told me that sponges, of which there are now known more
than a hundred different species, are found in a multitude of places, on
the shores of both the old and new Continents. “Those most valued in the
arts,” said he, “are inhabitants of the Mediterranean, and part of the
Indian Ocean; two small kinds of sponge thrive even on the frozen shores
of Greenland; and forty species have been discovered on the coasts of
Great Britain. They are found equally in places that are always covered
by the sea, and in those which it leaves dry with the ebb tide. They
adhere to rocks, and spread all over their surface; in some places they
keep possession of the most exposed cliffs, but they thrive best in
sheltered cavities, and are found lining the walls of submarine caves,
attaching themselves indifferently to mineral or vegetable, or even to
animal substances.
“The size to which sponge attains is very uncertain; I lately saw an
account of one found at Singapore in the East Indies, which was shaped
like a goblet, and measured round the brim fifty-one inches; the stem
was seventeen inches, and it contained thirty-six quarts of water!
Naturalists have agreed to seven general divisions of form; so as to
make something like an arrangement of this most singular class of
organized beings.”
I interrupted my uncle here, to ask whether, in calling them organized
beings, he meant the substance of the sponge, or the insects that are
supposed to form it.
“It is curious,” replied he, “that two thousand years ago, the Greeks
were occupied with this very inquiry; some endeavouring to prove the
vitality of sponge, and others, to shew that it was merely the work of
certain worms: and even so late as the year 1752, Peysonnel, the
naturalist, communicated to the Royal Society a paper in support of this
last opinion.
“Most naturalists, however, now agree in regarding sponge as a
_zoophyte_, or a kind of animal approaching nearly to the form and
nature of a plant; and Linnæus himself, latterly, classed it amongst
animals. As the large orifices appeared to be the only means of entrance
to the internal canals, it was supposed that the nourishment of this
animal was drawn in through them; but later discoveries have shewn that,
besides those apertures, there are minute pores over the whole surface;
that through these pores the water is imbibed, by which the creature is
nourished; and that the large round holes convey a constant stream of
water away _from_ the interior of the body. This stream carries off the
particles of matter which are constantly separating from the interior,
and which are not only perceptible by the assistance of the microscope,
but may be occasionally seen by the naked eye, like small flakes. When
a living sponge is allowed to remain a day at rest, in a white vessel
filled with pure sea water, an accumulation of feculent matter is always
found immediately under each orifice. If it is confined in the same
basin of water for two days, the currents appear to cease; but, on
plunging it again into water newly taken from the sea, they are renewed
in a few minutes; and the continual circulation of water through the
body, Dr. Grant, who appears to have studied this subject with great
perseverance, says, he no longer doubts, forms one of the living
functions of this animal.
“It would only burthen your memory,” continued my uncle, “were I to tell
you all the various opinions which have been formed respecting the
anatomy of the sponge. I will merely say, that Dr. Grant affirms, though
in opposition to M. Cuvier, that the fibrous part of the sponge, which
is insoluble in water, and forms a net work through every part of the
body, is the skeleton of this zoophyte, serving, as in other animals, to
give form to the body, and support to the softer organs.
“Sponge attaches itself sometimes to marine plants, so as to choak up
their pores. Small bits of the same species will spread towards each
other, and become one piece; and it is amusing to observe, says Dr.
Grant, the growth of the young _Spongiæ parasiticæ_ on the back and
legs of a species of crab, where they frequently collect to the number
of forty or fifty, interrupting the motion of its joints, and spreading
like a mantle over its back, or perhaps rising in fantastic ornaments
upon its head, which the crab is unable to remove.”
_21st._--When I parted from Mrs. P. at Falmouth, my uncle, who was much
pleased with her kindness to me, made her promise to pay a visit here in
some little time. That time has, at last, come. We have her now actually
in the house, and I have once more the pleasure of being with a friend
who was so kind and tender to me when I left you, my beloved Mamma.--How
many little circumstances are recalled to my mind by seeing her! She has
just the same quiet composed look that she used to have; and, though
always ready to converse and to impart the information she possesses,
yet her countenance seldom loses a certain expression of sadness.
She arrived last night, and has promised to stay till after Christmas. I
believe a few other friends are to be here also; but I am no longer such
a fool about strangers.
Many a time, things which you have said to me, and which then I scarcely
heeded, return to my mind. How often, for instance, you have told me
that we lose much real enjoyment by that sort of fear or reserve which
I used to feel at the sight of a new face; and now that I have learned
to listen attentively to conversation, I see what amusement, as well as
knowledge, one may gain from the mixture of characters to be met with in
society. Indeed, every day shews me how much real goodness there is,
though of various kinds, among people who at first sight seem only
intent on their own affairs.
I am sure that I at least have received a great deal of kindness in my
short life--and particularly since I have ceased to be what you used to
call _farouche_.
_23rd._--This day has been remarkably cold and wet, and stormy; nothing
could appear more dreary; and when I looked out, I persuaded myself that
I felt quite melancholy. We had, notwithstanding, been all as cheerful
as usual, and had contrived plenty of amusements for ourselves, in
addition to shuttlecock, which warms one so comfortably; but this very
dark and gloomy day we could scarcely distinguish our little feathery
plaything after three o’clock.
In the evening Mrs. P. taught us a new way of capping verses, which is a
little more difficult, but I think much more amusing than the common
method. Instead of each person being confined to a single line, as much
of a poem is to be repeated as will complete the sense; and the
succeeding quotations are all to allude, either to one general subject,
or at least to something touched upon by the previous speaker.
I will give you a sample in which we all joined:--
UNCLE. “Heap on more coals: the wind is chill;
But let it whistle as it will,
We’ll keep our merry Christmas still.”
AUNT. Still linger in our northern clime
Some remnants of the good old time;
And still, within our vallies here,
We hold the kindred title dear.
FREDERICK. Decrepit now, December moves along
The plashy plains.
CAROLINE. Phœbus arise,
And paint the sable skies
With azure, white, and red;
Rouse Memnon’s mother from her Tithon’s bed,
That she with roses thy career may spread.
BERTHA. Sad wears the hour! heavy and drear
Creeps, with slow pace, the waning year;
And sullen, sullen heaves the blast
Its deep sighs o’er the lonely waste!
WENTWORTH. Who loves not more the night of June
Than dull December’s gloomy noon;
The moonlight, than the fog of frost?
And can we say which cheats the most?
MRS. P. Mustering his storms, a sordid host,
Lo! Winter desolates the year.
MARY. Yet gentle hours advance their wing,
And Fancy, mocking winter’s night,
With flowers, and dews, and streaming light
Already decks the new-born spring.
_December 24th._--
’Twas Christmas broached the mightiest ale,
’Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;
A Christmas gambol oft could cheer
The poor man’s heart through half the year.
How happy every one looks in these good Christmas times! Besides those
feelings of gratitude and hope, which now come home to every Christian’s
breast, it is delightful to see the satisfaction the rich feel in this
country in sharing their comforts with the poor.
I need scarcely tell you, who know my uncle and aunt so well, how much
they enjoy the pleasure of giving food and clothing and blankets to
those who are in want; while to the cottagers who do not require such
assistance, they make some useful present, such as a book, or some
little article, which is sure to be highly valued, as it marks the
approbation of their landlord. Of course the Franklins and our old
basket-maker have not been forgotten. My aunt says she likes to make the
poor more than commonly comfortable now, that they may remember the
season with pleasure.
Farmer Moreland, and two or three other rich farmers in the
neighbourhood, are very considerate of the comforts of their labouring
men at this season; and they have joined with my uncle and aunt in
trying, by giving them constant employment, to enable them to struggle
on by their own exertions without applying to the parish for support.
Many have large families, some of which are taught, even while very
young, to help their parents; and it is to these people that my aunt
distributes the largest portions of her Christmas bounty.
In speaking of Christmas, my uncle told me that in the heathen times of
these countries, and of the northern parts of Europe, a festival took
place exactly at this season, which was dedicated to the sun, the chief
deity of our heathen ancestor; and when they were converted to
Christianity, it was thought prudent that they should continue to have
their festival, although the object of it was of course changed. It was
called _Jol_ or _Yule_--a Gothic word, signifying a feast, and
particularly applied to a religious one. Christmas is even still called
Yule in many places in the north of England; and it is said that the
custom of making a large fire on Christmas eve, on which great logs of
wood are piled, is still kept up. These are called _Yule clogs_, and,
before they are quite consumed, a fragment of them is taken out, and
preserved safely for the next year.
This is probably one of the remnants, my uncle says, of the feasts of
fire instituted by the worshippers of Bali, from whom there appears
reason to think the Druids were directly descended; as a coincidence of
customs, words, names, and ancient worship is in many instances
observable.
Just as we had done tea this evening, while my uncle was talking on this
subject, he was interrupted by a loud ringing at the hall-door, and it
was scarcely opened, when there was such a noise in the hall, such
singing, talking, laughing and dancing, that I was alarmed at first; but
my aunt told me it was only the _Mummers_. We went to look at them, and
I understood that they were acting St. George and the Dragon; but it was
such a strange, confused medley, that I could only distinguish a word or
two. They had all hideous masks, and were dressed up in the most
grotesque way; and everybody was highly diverted except poor little
Grace: she was so frightened by the bustle and strange figures, that my
uncle was obliged to reason with her. A word or a look from him has
unspeakable power over the minds of all the family, and indeed of all
who know him.
The mummers’ song I could not understand, except one stanza, which they
repeated always more distinctly than the rest, as a hint, I suppose, to
my uncle:--
In Christmas time is found
The best of stout old beer,
And if it now abound
We shall have dainty cheer;
Then merrily dance we round,
And so conclude the year.
My uncle good-humouredly gave them a few shillings to get their “stout
old beer,” and they hurried off to visit some other house.
_25th._--We all met in health and cheerfulness this good Christmas
morning, and in our heartfelt wishes for mutual happiness, yours, dear
Mamma, was included as ardently, as if you had been present.
To the usual old fashioned expressions of kindness, my aunt added, in
her impressive manner, a tender wish that we might receive such gracious
aid from above, as would enable us to rejoice indeed on this great day.
After some general conversation, my uncle explained to us the 45th
Psalm, which is appointed for the service of Christmas-day; and which,
he says, like many of the other psalms, is constantly read and but
little understood.
“It appears,” said he, “to be a song of congratulation upon the marriage
of a great king; but, from a consideration of all the subjects on which
it touches, there is no doubt that it prophetically alludes to the
mystical wedding of Christ with his church. This was the unanimous
opinion of all the Jewish expositors--for though prejudice prevented
them from discovering the completion of the prophecies in our Saviour,
yet they well understood their meaning, and all allowed that this psalm
related to Him, and not to any earthly prince.
“This figure, of the union of a husband and wife, has been consecrated
by our Lord himself, to signify his own union with his church, in the
parable of the king making a marriage for his son. Some commentators
have imagined that the marriage of Solomon with Pharaoh’s daughter was
the subject of the 45th Psalm; but it is in many respects wholly
inapplicable to that king. The hero of the poem is a warrior, who reigns
at length by conquest over his vanquished enemies: Solomon, on the
contrary, enjoyed a long reign of uninterrupted peace. He is also
distinguished by his love of righteousness; whereas Solomon, during the
latter part of his reign, fell far short of the excellence here
described. But, above all, the king is addressed by the title of God in
a manner which is never applied to any earthly king.
“The Psalmist begins with our Lord’s first appearance in the human form,
and passing rapidly through the different periods of Christianity, makes
them the groundwork of this mystic and inspired song, which may be
divided into three parts.
“The first three verses describe our Lord on earth in the days of his
humiliation. The second section consists of the five following verses,
which relate to the propagation of the gospel by our Lord’s victory
over his enemies; and this includes the whole period, from his ascension
to the time, not yet arrived, of the fulfilling of the _Gentiles_. The
sequel alludes to the re-marriage--that is, to the restoration of the
converted _Jews_ to the bosom of the true church.
“‘Thou art fairer than the children of men.’ Though we have no account
in the gospels of our Saviour’s person, yet it is evident, from many
circumstances, that there must have been a peculiar dignity in his
appearance. But it was the sanctity of his manners; his perfect
obedience to the will of God; the vast scope of his mind, which
comprehended all knowledge; his power to resist all temptation, and to
despise shame and to endure pain and death, to which that expression
alludes--this was the beauty with which he was adorned beyond the sons
of men.
“‘Full of grace are thy lips.’ This is put figuratively, for that
perfect doctrine which he delivered, and which, if sincerely adopted,
was to sustain the contrite, to console the afflicted, and to reclaim
the guilty.
“‘The king’s enemies’ are the wicked passions of mankind, against whom
he wages a spiritual war; and, the ‘sword and arrows,’ St. Paul tells
us, mean ‘the sword of God.’
“The seventh and eighth verses shew the King seated on the throne of his
mediatorial kingdom, where he is addressed as God, whose throne is
everlasting, and as a Monarch whose heart is set upon justice and
righteousness.
“In the first dispensation of the law through Moses, the perfumed
garments of the priest were typical of the graces and virtues of the
Redeemer, and of the excellence of his word; so the Psalmist describes
the King, of whom the high priest was the representative, as scented
with myrrh, aloes, and cassia.
“In the figurative language of scripture, ‘king’s daughters’ express
peoples and nations, and here mean, that the empires converted to the
faith of Christ will shine in the beauty of holiness, and will be united
to the Messiah’s kingdom.
“The ‘Queen’ evidently represents the Hebrew Church, re-united by
conversion in the fulness of time. The restoration of Israel to the
situation of consort in the Messiah’s kingdom is the constant strain of
prophecy; whole chapters might be quoted; but I think it will be an
interesting employment to some of you to search for them yourselves. I
will only remind you of that passage in the epistle to the Romans, where
St. Paul says, that blindness is _in part_ only happened to Israel, till
the time shall arrive for the fulness of the Gentiles to come in; and
then all Israel shall be saved.
“The Queen’s ‘vesture of gold’ denotes those real treasures, of which
the church is the depository, the written word, and the dispensation of
its gracious promises to mankind.
“‘Forget thine own people, and thy father’s house.’ This applies to the
ancient Jewish religion, and its typical ceremonies and sacrifices, now
no longer necessary. The remainder of the psalm alludes to the churches
established under ‘the King’; to the simplicity and excellence of the
Christian dispensation; and closes with an assurance that the children
of the Queen Consort, that is, the church, after collecting the lost
sheep of Israel, shall be, as their fathers were, God’s peculiar
people.”
My uncle concluded by saying, that this beautiful psalm, which is
written in such majestic language, and presents such cheering hopes to
Christians, Jews, and Gentiles, has been a constant subject of
discussion amongst our learned divines; and advised us to read with
attention the excellent commentaries on it by Bishop Horne and Bishop
Horsley.
_26th._--This day is so calm and bright that it is not like winter; it
almost brings to my mind some of our own days at home. Oh! mamma, if you
were but here, all would be delightful.
We are all going to walk to Farmer Moreland’s, except Wentworth and
Frederick, who are mounting their ponies to visit a friend just returned
from Eton.
I am called--Yes, quite ready. Good day, dear mamma.
Well, mamma, evening has come, and I have but little to tell you about
our Christmas visit to Farmer Moreland and his dame, which was happily
accomplished; but a great deal to tell you about Wentworth and
Frederick, and their adventures. When they had ridden about a mile, they
were stopped by a little boy, who came running from a lane in the wood,
crying piteously, “Mother, mother, oh! come to mother!” To all their
questions he gave no other answer but “Come to mother; oh! do come, she
is a dying.” The child was a very little creature, and seemed scarcely
to know any other words.
My cousins, without hesitation, or any thought about their ride,
determined to follow the child, who, though he could not say much, knew
very well what to do. He led them along one of the green lanes a
considerable distance into the wood, and there they found his poor
mother lying, without any other shelter than that of a large spreading
holly--without blanket or covering--her head resting on a little bundle,
and looking deadly pale. The child ran towards her, and gently patting
her face, cried, “Here, mother; look, look.”
As Wentworth approached, she opened her eyes, and seeing a benevolent
countenance, smiled faintly. She tried to raise herself, but could not.
In reply to his inquiries she made him understand that, having travelled
two days with little rest or food, suffering much from grief, along with
fatigue, she had grown so ill that she was obliged to stop there. Not
seeing any cottage near, in which she could beg a lodging, and feeling
totally unable to walk farther, she had lain there many hours, but had
not seen any one pass, and fearing that the child would be starved, she
had sent him in search of some kind-hearted person. She added that she
was sure her illness was a fever; and as there was, therefore, little
chance of her being admitted into any house, all she wished for was a
shed to cover her, some water to drink, and some bread for her little
boy.