Part 12

My uncle is going to try a new wash, which can do no injury, and which has been much recommended to him, for destroying the various grubs and insects that are so mischievous to the fruit-trees. He sent yesterday to Gloucester, for some of the water through which coal gas had been passed; and he had three gallons of it mixed up to-day with one pound of flower of brimstone--to this was added soft soap, enough to make it adhere when laid on with a painter’s brush. It was mixed over the fire, and it may be done so with perfect safety, he says, as it is not inflammable.

Many insects deposit their eggs in the bark, or in the young buds; and it is their larvæ or caterpillars that do the greatest mischief. The _aphides_ injure all the varieties of plum; and there is a _coccus_ sometimes in such quantities on those trees, that in summer every twig is thickly beaded with little red, half-round specks. In spring, the larvæ exhaust the trees by sucking out the rising sap. The grub of a little brown beetle destroys the blossom of the pear-trees; and a saw-fly injures the fruit so as to cause it to drop prematurely. In short, almost every kind of fruit tree has its peculiar family of grubs, which, in their larva state, prey on the sap, the leaves, or the flower-buds; and it is to prevent this that my uncle is going to destroy them by that gas wash.

Among various enemies of the apple-tree, he shewed me in particular the apple aphis, or American blight, which was not known in this country till the year 1787. It is a very minute insect, covered with a long, cotton-like wool; and fixes itself in the chinks and rough parts of the bark. It has spread throughout the kingdom, and about fifteen years ago destroyed such numbers of apple-trees in this country, that it was feared the making of cyder would be quite at an end, if some mode of banishing those insects was not discovered. Spirit of turpentine, or smearing the branches with oil, were found to be useful remedies: but Sir Joseph Banks has succeeded completely by the more simple process of taking off all the rugged old bark, and then scrubbing the trunk and branches with a hard brush. My uncle has found this insect infesting two of his apple-trees; so he will try each of those methods as a fair experiment.

_21st._--Caroline and I took advantage of a walk with my uncle this morning, to remind him of his promise to teach us something of geology.

“Are you prepared,” said he, “to learn the general classification? Though uninteresting till you know more, it is the necessary foundation to any knowledge of that science.”

“Oh yes, we are anxious to learn it, or any thing that you will be so good as to teach us.”

“Very well,” said my uncle; “we will begin at once. In examining the surface of the earth, a person would at first imagine that the confused variety of mineral substances he saw, was the result of mere chance; but if in different places he should find the same substances constantly linked together--if, for instance, in traversing the different coal districts, he were to find sand, clay, chalk, freestone, coal, limestone, sandstone, slate, and granite, succeed each other with tolerable uniformity, he would soon perceive that there was something like system in their arrangement. And on further examination, he would discover that this general _series_ may be subdivided into several lesser series or _formations_, in which, also, considerable regularity may be observed. The order, then, in which these series are classed by geologists, is what I am now going to explain to my little girls.

“The first or upper series comprehends the mixed beds of sand, gravel, pebbles, and clay, which are frequently found covering the great chalk formation.

“The second class includes several different series more or less connected with each other: the most important of them are--1st, the chalk formation; 2dly, a series of sands and clays beneath the chalk; 3dly, a series of calcareous freestones, such as Portland and Bath stone; and, 4thly, beds of red marl and sandstone, sometimes containing alabaster and rock salt.

“The third general class comprises beds of coal and the limestones and sandstones on which they repose.

“The fourth or argillaceous class of rocks is characterised by their disposition to split into thin _laminæ_; such, for example, as the common roofing slate.

“The fifth, and lowest, contains all the varieties of granite and gneiss.

“These five series, or orders, have been named by one of our best geological writers, superior, super-medial, medial, submedial, and inferior. But the most general relation under which all these minerals present themselves, is that from which they have been named _primitive_ and _secondary_. The primitive comprehend the lowest series of rocks, which serve as the bases upon which the others rest. They never contain any traces of former animals or vegetables, and may be supposed to have constituted the materials of the earth’s original surface.

“On the other hand, the different series which cover them, sometimes contain the remains of vegetables and animals imbedded in them; or sometimes they are made up of broken fragments of the primitive rocks, cemented together in a new form; and these are therefore considered to be of a subsequent and secondary origin. Geologists, however, having observed that between the primitive rocks, and those which exhibit most distinctly the characters of the secondary class, there are others partaking of the nature of both, and containing comparatively but few organic remains, have distinguished them by the title of _transition rocks_. And the rocks which are above this transition series, they call _floetz_ rocks; a German term, implying their having been deposited in horizontal beds, or _strata_; while the strata of the older rocks were generally inclined at considerable angles. These floetz rocks were again subdivided into old floetz and new floetz; and to the new floetz other writers have given the name _tertiary_.

“Though the distribution into the five series or orders, which I gave you, is, I think, the arrangement best suited to the science, yet it is necessary that you should recollect these other terms, because they are alluded to in almost every work to which you will have to refer. But I have given you quite enough for your first lesson.”

As soon as I came back from our walk, I wrote down all I could recollect of what my uncle had told us; and I have transcribed it here, in hopes that it may interest dear Marianne: this, at all events, will fix it more firmly in my own head.

_22nd._--My aunt has just had some small plants of the rosa Banksiæ put in the stove.--This rose tree grows in the most rapid manner out of doors, and is a great ornament to the conservatory, one end of which it covers entirely with its bunches of small white flowers tinged with pink. It produced some shoots last autumn, of nine or ten feet in length, which the gardener bent downwards, and laying them in the ground, he conducted them towards the adjoining wall, to which he nailed up the ends. They now look healthy and have fine swelling buds, as if they would soon be in a very flourishing state. He has found that the way to manage this rose is to plant it in a sandy loam, and to keep it very closely nailed to the wall, just like the Morella cherry.

I take great pleasure in watching the progress of the garden. The peach blossoms are really opening, and are lovely. The gardener has been very busy protecting them from the harsh winds, and from rain and hail, by woollen nettings stretched completely over them. But my uncle is always trying some pretty experiments; and one small tree is covered, or at least its blossoms are covered, by wool attached to the branches. Another is covered by small branches of birch, about two feet long, which were collected as soon as the leaves were full grown, in the end of June, and preserved under cover. There are studs in the wall, which project eight or ten inches, and to these the birchen branches are nailed with shreds. In order to try these experiments fairly, the trees which he has selected for them are on the same wall and in the same aspect.

We have been watching the tomtits, and find that they really do eat up the insects and larvæ that would be destructive to the blossoms; but I cannot say so much for the pretty, but mischievous bulfinch, which too often amuses itself in picking off the flower-buds.

What endless entertainment, mamma, there is in observing the operations of the birds! For some days we had heard a bird in the low wet grounds, for ever going on with two notes, like the whetting of a saw; and at last we traced it to a place by the river side, where there are some willow trees, and the remains of an orchard. We found it nestling in the decayed stems. Mary pronounced it to be the little black-capped marsh titmouse. We went two or three times to the old orchard, where we saw it very busy picking off little chips, in order to deepen a hole in a decayed willow tree for its nest; and I am told, that it makes the bottom much larger than the entrance.

The birds of passage which came here for winter are now all taking their departure; and others will, I suppose, soon replace them. Frederick often points out large flocks of them at a great height; but it is the charming singing birds that interest me: the blackbird, for instance, with his sweet whistle; and the thrush, who constantly varies his song. But still more, the missel thrush, the largest of the species, who, perched on a lofty tree, warbles a loud carol to the coming Spring, with a very strong note. This bird is eleven inches long, and Frederick shewed me that it is distinguished by its having the three outer tail-feathers tipped with white.--It goes as far north, he says, as Norway; and is common in Russia. It is welcomed here as the harbinger of spring, and yet the country people call it the storm cock, because it is sometimes heard in stormy weather, drowning the voice of the other birds. It is particularly fond of building in old ash trees overgrown with lichens.

_23rd._--Franklin is going to have several hives of bees, and is preparing an enclosure for them, in which there will be some of their favourite flowers; it is placed near a rivulet, as they use a great deal of water. They are particularly fond of mignonette, thyme, mustard when left to go to seed, turnips, white clover, and beans of all kinds. These are their principal favourites; and it is said they afford the purest honey. Rosemary too is a favourite, but seldom produces much honey in this country, unless the season be warm and dry. It is worth cultivating, however, my aunt says, being one of the principal plants which gives the flavour to the famous Narbonne honey. She has had some planted in the warmest part of the bee enclosure, or Franklin’s apiary, as Frederick calls it. There are several lime, poplar, and berberry trees, planted round it; and a broom hedge is sown outside.

In a new swarm, their first care is to build cells to serve as cradles; and very little honey is collected, until an ample store of _bee-bread_ has been laid up for their food. This is composed of the pollen or dust of the anthers of flowers, which the _workers_ are constantly employed in gathering. They fly from flower to flower, to collect it in the little baskets formed of hair, with which their hind legs are provided; and having deposited their booty in the hive, they return for a new load. This bee-bread, after it has been received into the bees’ second stomach, is brought up again, changed into a whitish jelly; and with that substance, the young brood are diligently fed by other bees, till they change into _nymphs_.

Bees do not solely confine themselves to flowers; in collecting honey they are fond of the juices of fruits also, and for this reason my aunt recommended this bee enclosure to be placed very near the orchard which Franklin planted. With their tongue, which my aunt says is not a tube, as some people have supposed, but a real tongue, they lap or lick the honey, and convey it into the first stomach, which is called the honey-bag, and which, when full, is much swelled--it is never found in the second stomach. How the wax is secreted from the honey, or what vessels are employed for that purpose, is not yet ascertained. But my aunt shewed me the wax-pockets of the bee; by gently pressing the body, we could perceive on each of its four segments, two whitish flaps, of a soft membranaceous texture, in which the wax is placed.

There is another substance made by the bees, and called _propolis_; it is collected from poplar, birch, fir, and gummy trees like the taccamahaca. Bees have been observed to open the buds with their mandibles, so as to draw from them a thread of viscid matter; and then, with one of their second pair of legs, they take it from the mouth, and place it in the baskets on their hind legs. It is used in stopping every chink of the hive, by which cold, or wet, or insects, can enter; it gives a finish to the combs, and the sticks which support these combs are covered with it as well as the interior surface of the hive.

In collecting the pollen from plants, it has been observed that bees never mix the farina of different flowers; each is made use of in separate little pellets, and it is said that skilful botanists have been able to distinguish by the farina what flowers the bee had visited.

My aunt told me that she had read of a lady who had so constantly attended to her bees, and was so beloved by them, that they seemed to delight in flying round her and listening to her voice; they had no sting for their kind mistress, and when, after a storm, she gathered them up, wiped, and tried to revive them by the warmth of her hand, they gently buzzed their gratitude as they recovered. When she visited the hive, she caused no alarm; and if, on seeing them less diligent than usual, or ill or languid, she poured a little wine at the outside of the hives, they always expressed their thanks in the same manner.

Franklin’s new apiary, you see, has been of great benefit to me, for it led to a long conversation with my good aunt, who told me all those circumstances and many others in her usual clear way; and when we came home, she put into my hands a little book called _Dialogues on Entomology_, in which she says I shall find much useful information about bees and other insects.

_24th._--At breakfast this morning my uncle received a letter from a brother of Colonel Travers, who you know is at Madras. It was written while he also was at breakfast, and Mr. T. mentions that there were then on the table eatables of different kinds, which had come from the four quarters of the globe.

This set us to consider from whence all the articles that were on our own table had been collected. Every one named something. The tea from China, the coffee from Arabia, West Indian sugar, Narbonne honey, the salt from Cheshire, and our home-made bread, butter, and cream. Then there were Coalbrook-dale cups and saucers, an urn from Birmingham, tea-pots and spoons of Mexican silver, a butter-vessel of Bristol glass, knives of Swedish steel, and an Irish table-cloth and napkins.

Frederick proposed that we should calculate the number of people that must have been employed in producing all these various articles. He began with salt, as one of the simplest things on the table, and he easily ran through the operations of digging it out of the mine, making the little baskets in which it is sold, and conveying them by land or by water carriage to Gloucester; nor did he forget the wholesale and retail dealers, through whose hands they passed before they were deposited with my aunt’s housekeeper. But my uncle reminded him that making fine salt was not only a far more complicated process than he seemed to imagine, but also that, unless he took into account the machines employed in every one of the operations, and even the tools requisite for making those machines, he would not be able to give a satisfactory answer to his own proposition. “The same remark,” he continued, “will apply to the production of everything else on the table: this roll, for instance, must not only include the labour of the baker, but that of the bolter, the miller, the reaper, the sower, and the ploughman, besides the manufacturers of all the implements they used. Or, take coffee, which, however simple the mere gathering of the berries and drying them in the sun may appear, can only be brought to this country through the complex operations of commerce, and by means of a ship, which of itself includes the combined efforts of a hundred different trades before she can proceed a single mile on her voyage.”

“How rich, uncle,” said I, “must any country become, where the people are employed both in agriculture and manufactures!”

“Yes,” he replied, “as long as they are well paid, or, in other words, as long as there is a demand for as much as they can produce. But you know, Bertha, the inhabitants of any country can only consume a certain quantity of food, or a certain quantity of clothes; and if the hands employed raise more corn, or make more goods than are wanted, they must be thrown out of work until the overplus has been called for, as no one will pay for what they do not want. Something else, you see, is necessary to enrich a nation besides agriculture and manufactures.”

“Oh yes! I know what you mean, uncle; I am sure--commerce--by which that overplus is sent to other countries, and exchanged there for things which we do want.”

“You are right, Bertha. The agricultural and manufacturing classes may furnish each other with the necessaries, and with many of the comforts of life; but, without the aid of commerce, they can never raise a nation to any great degree of wealth. Foreign commerce is the great spur to their industry; it opens a thousand channels to their activity, and mutually enriches both themselves and the countries to which they trade. But it does much more--it brings distant nations into contact with each other--it makes up for the partial distribution of soil and climate--it may be said to equalize the bounties of Providence, and it is the grand means of spreading knowledge and civilization to the most remote corners of the world.”

_25th._--In consequence of our breakfast conversation yesterday on the productions of various countries, we invented a very amusing play in the evening, and I assure you that it was conducted with great precision.

Each person wrote on a bit of paper the name of some town, country, or province; these tickets were then shuffled together in a little basket, and whoever drew one out was obliged to give an account of some production, either natural or manufactured, for which that place was remarkable. This new-fashioned game was highly entertaining, for it brought out a number of curious bits of information which we had picked up, and which we might never have mentioned to each other, only from some such motive.

One of these was, that in Persia they have the art of carving spoons out of pear wood, which are so delicate and so thin, that the bowl of the spoon can be folded up like paper, and opened again. The handles too are so slender, that it is a particular accomplishment to carry them when full to the mouth in such a dexterous manner as to prevent their breaking. These delicate utensils are one of the accompaniments of men of rank, being only used by princes and noblemen when sipping their sherbet.

My aunt having drawn Siberia, said she had a nice match for Frederick’s wonderful spoons. In the province of Wiatka bowls and cups are made of the knobs which grow on the birch trees; they are yellow, marbled with brown veins, and when varnished are very pretty. But some of them are turned so extremely thin, as to be semi-transparent; and when put into hot water they become so pliant that they may be spread out quite flat without injury, as they return to their original shape in drying.

The ticket for Constantinople was next drawn, and produced a description of the rose beads which are so much prized by the Sultan’s wives, that they are usually called “Beads of the Haram.” Those poor ladies have so little employment, that they sit for hours passing these beads, when strung, through their fingers. They are composed of the petals of the rose carefully picked, and pounded into a smooth paste in an iron vessel; which makes them quite black, on the same principle, you know, mamma, that ink is made by mixing a preparation of iron with _gallic acid_, of which the rose petals contain a small quantity. When the paste is quite smooth it is made up into little balls, which are perforated for stringing, and then slowly dried in the shade. When they have become hard they are rubbed in the palms of the hands along with a little attar of rose, till quite smooth; and they always preserve their sweet smell.

Paraguay was on the next ticket, and Wentworth, who remembers all he reads, gave us a description of the famous tea of that country, large quantities of which are used in Chili and the states of Buenos Ayres. It is called Maté; and is made by boiling the leaves in an oval-shaped metal pot, about twice as large as an egg, on the hot embers in a brasier which stands at all seasons of the year in the middle of the room. When the water boils, a lump of burnt sugar is added, and the pot, being placed in a filagree silver stand is handed round; each person drawing the maté into his mouth through a silver or glass tube which is furnished at the lower extremity with a bulb pierced with small holes. The natives drink it almost boiling hot; and they have always some of this tea ready prepared, whether employed at home or in the fields. No one even departs on a journey without being provided with a quantity of the dried herb, as well as with a maté-pot, which is either carried in the hand, or suspended round the neck by a small chain if the person is on horseback. I was rather ashamed to confess that all these circumstances were new to me, as well as that the tree is a species of holly, the _Ilex Paraguayensis_; but you will tell me if they are correct.

Then came Kamtschatka, which produced an account of the _Sarana_, a species of lily that is universal in the eastern parts of Siberia, and almost covers the ground with its blossoms. The bulbs are gathered in August, and laid by for use; after being baked they are reduced to flour, and are not only used in soups and other dishes, but make the best bread of the country. Sometimes they are boiled and eaten like potatoes; and besides their own exertions in collecting them, the Kamtschatkans have a provident little mouse, which not only hoards them in its magazines, but has the sagacity to bring them out in sunny weather to dry. The natives search for and seize on these hoards, but they always leave some of the contents for their poor little purveyors. There are several species of this lily, from one of which the Russians produce a sort of wine.

We had afterwards the _Apatea_, or Hottentot bread, made from a parasite which grows on the roots of a _Euphorbia_ at the Cape of Good Hope, and which has neither stem nor leaf--only a flower that produces a large round and excellent fruit; but I really have not time to describe any more of these interesting little scraps, for my aunt says I must go out and walk.

_26th, Sunday._--My uncle read to us this morning the history of Balaam’s expedition with Balak, in order to curse Israel. This produced a long conversation; and I shall endeavour to give you an outline of what my uncle said.