Bertha's Visit to Her Uncle in England; vol. 3 [of 3]

Part 2

Chapter 24,156 wordsPublic domain

The Turkish pipe, which is called a _chibouque_, consists of the tube, the bowl, and the mouthpiece, so that they are all easily separated and cleaned. The manufacturers of the tubes are seen at work every day in the shops of Constantinople, where there is a bazaar, or street of shops, entirely for their sale. They are made from the young straight stems of cherry tree or jessamine, on which the bark is carefully preserved; they are from two to six feet in length, and are nicely bored with a wire auger. The nursing these stems during their growth is often the support of a whole family, and requires a good deal of attention. To prevent the bark from splitting in the heat of the day, each stem is swathed with wet bandages, and the least tendency to become crooked is counteracted, either by a judicious application of the bandage, or by more copiously watering the plant on one side than on the other. A perfectly straight stem, with a uniformly shining bark, is, however, a great rarity, and sells for about two guineas.

The bowls are made of a clay called kefkil, found in Asia Minor, and in Greece. In its native state, it is soft and white, but when baked, it becomes hard; and, unlike the English pipeclay, turns to a black or red colour. These bowls are made of all sizes; the Turks do not like them very large; but those exported to Germany, where they are polished and finished with great elegance, are as large as a man’s hand. Mr. Maude says he was astonished by the piles of bowls in every shop of the bazaar.

The bowls are frequently ornamented with gilding, and the tubes with embroidery and jewels; but it is on the value of the mouthpiece that a Turk prides himself. None but the miserably poor would use anything but amber; and, though the common sort are cheap enough to suit all ranks, Mr. M. has seen some which have cost a hundred pounds, not from their size, but from some favourite tinge in their appearance.

“With such a pipe,” he says, “and with Saloniki tobacco, a Turk is supremely happy. Cross-legged on his Persian carpet, he enjoys it the whole day, and except to call for more tobacco, or for a cup of coffee, he seldom opens his mouth, as the smoke is emitted from time to time in long cloudy columns from his nose. Pipes take the lead in every visit, and are preliminaries to every conversation. The most flattering compliment a Turk can pay to his guest is to present him with his chibouque warm from his lips; and I shall never forget the mixed look of indignation and contempt which a Pasha of three tails threw at an Englishman, who unwarily wiped the superb amber mouthpiece before he introduced it between his own lips.”

_9th, Sunday._--“Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord: and thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might. And these words which I command thee this day shall be in thine heart: and thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down and when thou risest up.”--Deut. vi.

After reading the whole chapter, my uncle called our attention to the above verses, and said, “The characteristic excellence of the Mosaical law consists in the inward principle on which obedience to it was founded; in other words, on the love of God. This is fully unfolded in the admirable commentary of Moses on the commandments, where we see that the love that is expected from us must be accompanied with the full vigour of our feelings; and that it must be daily excited by a constant and grateful sense of the long-suffering and forbearance we have already experienced; of the blessings we still enjoy; and of the promises held out to us by a God of mercy, of goodness, and truth. This is the love which should be the principle of all our motives, and the guide of all our actions. This is the love which expands our hearts, not only into grateful adoration towards the Author of our being, but into benevolence towards our fellow-creatures. ‘Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself; I am the Lord.’ This emphatic conclusion shews that we are bound to do so for the Lord’s sake; and throughout the Mosaical law you will find that the love of God was made the basis of the love of our neighbour, as well as of all our other duties. In the same manner our Saviour declares that on these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets; that is, the whole religion and morality of the Old Testament.

“It appears,” continued my uncle, “to be peculiar to the Jewish and Christian dispensations to have solemnly laid down the principle of the love of God, as a ground of human action: for though some wise and excellent heathens had certain elevated ideas of the Deity, none seem to have inculcated the love of the Deity as a governing motive of human conduct. This Moses did most expressly; and Christ not only adopted and ratified what the law had already declared, but singled it out and gave it pre-eminence over the whole body of precepts which formed the old institution.

“Let this noble principle then be pre-eminent in our minds; let us, who enjoy so many social comforts at home, and who have been happily taught to behold in our walks the beauties of this beneficent creation; let us, who can lie down to repose in health and security, and who can rise up refreshed to perform our duties; let us, my children, fill our hearts with the love of God; and let it purify our thoughts, direct our words, and govern our actions.”

_10th._--I find great amusement in watching the young birds that are now coming out, and in observing the tender care with which their parents feed them. There are several nests in the tall trees near my window; and in a thick bush in my quarry garden, a favourite robin, who used to hop on my hand and feed there all the winter, has four young ones: I have named them after Mrs. Trimmer’s dear little red-breast family, which every child loves.

Robins seem less afraid than most birds of the human haunts; and my aunt says she has a friend, in whose bedchamber a pair actually built their nests, and brought up their young till it was time to fly away. The lady used to leave her window open all day; and often sat there to watch their manœuvres and to listen to their sweet song. They seemed to be aware of their comfortable quarters, and fiercely attacked any other birds that intruded themselves.

She also mentioned a singular circumstance of a wren, a bird that is never very familiar. A gentleman having occasion to repair some paling that was attached to an old hollow yew tree, the workmen discovered a nest in a small hole in the stem, with nine little unfledged birds. He was fortunately on the spot, and had it placed on the window sill of his study. The old wrens soon followed; and even when it was taken into the room or held in the hand, they boldly did their duty to their offspring. They repeated their visits for sixteen hours daily, coming every two or three minutes with fresh supplies of food, which the little things greedily devoured. When this was told, I well remembered having heard grandpapa tell it of himself long, long ago.

This season, I suppose, must be remarkably forward, for we have had quantities of primroses and other flowers already, though Warton says of the first of April,

Scarce the hardy primrose peeps From the dark dell’s entangled steeps.

I should tire you with the long list of leaves or flowers opening or already burst out; but I have kept a very exact account of them in my naturalist’s calendar; and when you come home, mamma, you shall see it, and we shall be able to compare it with the advance of spring in some other year. Spring is really delightful; the great change from winter is so animating, and so full of interest to the gardener and farmer.

My hyacinth and jonquil beds are in great beauty; and, without vanity, my garden looks so well, that not only my cousins but even my aunt and uncle congratulate me on my industry and success.

Franklin is very busy now in every part of his farm; yet he pays constant attention to the workmen who are building his house, which is already far advanced: he says it is inconceivable how much waste he prevents by keeping his eye on them. Little Charles is beginning to be useful; his understanding is quick, and he already speaks plain English. The Franklins keep him always with them, without seeming to watch him; in hopes of breaking the habit of pilfering. His relations are not inclined to take him, so that my aunt will have a full opportunity of trying her benevolent experiment.

_11th._--Caroline and I had a long walk, and a long conversation to-day with my uncle, about the _alluvial_ changes on the surface of the earth. I wish I could tell you all he said; I can only give you a little sketch of it.

“Since the last great and general convulsion produced by the deluge, many gradual changes have occurred, and are every day occurring, from causes which we may easily trace. We see destruction going on in one place, and new formations in another; we find headlands and cliffs undermined and washed away by the incessant action of the waves; and we as often find the materials, thus carried off, thrown up again, and forming either extensive tracts of new land along the less exposed parts of the coast, or new banks and shoals in the adjoining sea. The action of frost and snow, and rain, have all a similar tendency: ice, by swelling in the rifts and crevices of the rocks, detaches small portions; the rain washes away the finer parts; the melting snow, which forms the winter torrent, carries down the larger fragments, and, dashed against each other, their angles are rounded off. The looser materials of the soil, through which these torrents pass, are still more easily swept away; and in this manner, year after year, the surface of the mountain is conveyed into the valley. As the torrent reaches the level ground, its rapidity lessens, the larger fragments proceed no farther, and only the earth and sand reach the river, where they subside to the bottom, and form alluvial flats, and push out the _deltas_ which may be seen at the mouths of almost every river. Some of the prodigious deltas made by the great rivers of the continent, I think I mentioned to you in one of our earliest conversations, as well as the great deposit of new land on the coast of Italy.

“Fortunately, over a large part of the earth’s surface, these wasting causes have no influence; the green sward which clothes it is an effectual protection. The barrows of the ancient Britons, though above two thousand years old, retain their original outline, and the fosse surrounding them is still distinct. Even on the sides of mountains, where the causes which I have described are always more or less in operation, still there is a degree at which further waste will be checked; the abrupt precipice may in time be broken down into a slope; but vegetation will creep up, and that slope will then be defended by its grassy coat.

“Even the mighty action of the sea has a similar tendency to impose a limit to its own ravages; for it wastes its fury in vain on the barrier of loose stones which it had beaten from the cliff that they now protect.

“On some coasts, however, the agency of the sea does produce an injurious change. Where the shore is low, and consists of a flat, sandy bottom, the sand is thrown up by the surf; at every reflux of the tide, it becomes partially dried; the winds blow it higher up, and thus ranges of sand-hills are formed parallel to the beach. They encroach on the land so rapidly, that districts, which a few years ago were inhabited, are now become desert plains of sand. This takes place on a large scale, in many parts of the world; even in Norfolk it has been found that the only means of arresting the progress of the sand is to plant thick hedges of furze. On the east coast of Scotland, much property was laid waste by this destructive enemy, whose advance was occasioned about a hundred years ago, by the imprudent removal of the trees and the _bent_-grass which grew on the sand-hills. The effects were so alarming, that an act of parliament was made in the reign of George II. to prohibit the destruction of that useful plant, the sea bent-grass, which Providence has kindly formed to grow in pure sand, and to keep it firm. The Dutch may be said to owe their existence to it, as its spreading matted root fixes the sand on those great dykes or embankments, which alone preserve the country from the inundations of the sea. This grass is called _murah_, in the Highlands; on the coast of Lincolnshire, _signs_; in Norfolk, _matgrass_; and by Linnæus, _arundo arenaria_. It has long, sharp-pointed leaves, and, fortunately, no cattle whatever will taste it. The sea eryngo and the creeping restharrow, contribute also to defend us against these almost irresistible sands.”

When we returned home, my uncle shewed me an extract of a letter from the unfortunate traveller Bowdich; containing an interesting account of a sandy plain in Madeira, about eighteen miles from Funchal. I must copy a part of it for my dear mama.

“From Caniçal, by following a rough track, on the margin of shallow cliffs of alternate tufa and basalt, for about a mile and a half, we reached a depression, more like a basin than a plain, and covered with a deep bed of sand. This sand has, in some degree, been fixed by the numerous branches of the forest-trees which it has enveloped, and which are spread over the surface as well as beneath it, like a net-work of roots. Both the branches and the trunks are encased in a thick hard sheath of agglutinated sand; and in some instances, the wood having entirely perished, the envelopes are found empty, like tubes. Most frequently, however, the wood is still found within, where it has become a hard petrified mass.

“The trunks which remain in their natural position, have been broken off about a foot above the surface of the sand: how far they reach beneath it I cannot say, but there were two or three as thick as my body. They all appear to belong to the same species of tree, though of what family I do not think our present knowledge of the comparative anatomy of timber is sufficiently advanced to determine.

“This deposit of sand extends about three-quarters of a mile in each direction; and as innumerable fossil marine shells are mixed with it, as well as imbedded in the envelopes, it must evidently have proceeded from an irruption of the sea, although it is bounded by hills several hundred feet high, on which there is no trace of sand.”

_12th._--My aunt was so kind as to take Mary and me with her this morning, to pay a visit to Mrs. B., who has always many pretty curiosities to shew. Her cousin, who is captain of an East Indiaman, has a constant commission to bring her any thing that is interesting. Fortunately for us, he arrived a few weeks since, and has lately sent her a collection of Chinese drawings of flowers and insects, which are most beautifully coloured. They are, however, amusingly defective in regard to proportion; for some of the flowers are much diminished, while the insects upon them are represented of their natural size.

He brought her, also, a few stuffed birds; one of which, the adjutant bird, is such a prodigious creature, that I scarcely looked at the others. It measures, from the crown of the head to the foot, five feet two inches; from tip to tip of the wings, fourteen feet; and the other dimensions are proportionably great. Its general colour is black, or slate blue, though a few of the small feathers round the neck, and on part of the body, are white.

It is called the hurgill, in Bengal. They say that when alive it majestically stalks along, and looks like an Indian; and when seen near the mouths of rivers with extended wings, might be taken for a canoe. There is a curious superstition among the Indians, that the souls of the Brahmins possess these birds. They are very ravenous, and have a most capacious stomach, as well as a large craw, which hangs down the fore part of the neck like a pouch. The captain told Mrs. B., that in the pouch of one which was killed, a land tortoise ten inches long was found, and in the stomach, a cat; even a leg of mutton, or a litter of young kittens, are easily swallowed. He heard of one that had been caught when young: he was easily tamed, and being always fed in the hall, he became so familiar, that at dinner time he stood behind his master’s chair; but the servants were obliged to watch him, as sometimes he would snatch a whole fowl off the table. He used to roost among the high trees, from whence, even at two miles distance, he could spy dinner carrying across the yard, when, darting home, he regularly walked in with the last dish. As he stood near the dinner table, he appeared as if listening to the conversation, turning his head alternately to whoever spoke.

The most curious thing about this species is the pouch. Dr. Adam, of Calcutta, supposes that it helps to sustain the birds in their great flights in the air, and also assists them in the waters in searching after their prey. From the structure of their limbs they cannot swim; and it appears that they have the power of distending this bag with air when they go beyond their depth. He says, that in the month of October, when the sky is not obscured by a single cloud, it is a beautiful spectacle to observe hundreds of these birds performing their graceful evolutions at a vast height above the earth; with a telescope, however, he could not perceive whether the bag was distended.

This huge bird occupied so much of our visit, that I scarcely recollect any thing else that I saw.

_13th._--My aunt has been reading to us several interesting particulars of the Hottentots, from Latrobe’s Journal of his visit to South Africa.

There is a striking difference, he remarks, in the conduct of the uncivilized, and of the Christian Hottentots. All those who have been converted by the Moravian missionaries, have learned some useful trade, and, when they like their employment, work very industriously. They are naturally kind-hearted and obliging; and Christianity has had such a happy effect on them, that they live at the settlement of Gnadenthal united as brethren amongst themselves, and very grateful to their teachers.

The Hottentots have fine voices; they are fond of music, and are easily taught to sing. “One morning,” Latrobe says, “at four o’clock, I was awakened by the sweet sound of Hottentot voices singing a hymn in the hall before my chamber door. They had learned from some of the missionaries, that it was my birth-day, and I was struck and affected by this mark of their regard; nor was their mode of expressing it confined to a morning song. They had dressed out my chair at the common table, with branches of oak and laurel; and even the school-children, in order not to be behind in these kind offices, having begged of their mistress to mark on a large white muslin handkerchief some English words expressive of their good will towards me, they managed to embroider them with a species of creeper called cat’s thorn, and fastened the muslin in front of a table, covered with a white cloth and decorated with festoons of field flowers. This table, on which stood five large bouquets, I found in my room, on returning from my walk. The whole arrangement did credit to their taste. The words were, ‘May success crown every action.’”

_14th._--I asked my uncle yesterday, whether a considerable change has not been produced in the level of the ocean, by the vast quantity of materials, which he had told us were carried into it by the rivers, and washed away from the coast by the waves.

He replied, that it was a very natural question, and shewed that we reflected on what we had learned. “But,” said he, “though the quantity of materials which has for ages been accumulating in the sea must be vast, yet when compared with the capacity of the whole ocean, its disparity is so obvious, that it probably can have had no visible effect in elevating the general level of the water. I say the general level, because it is possible, that in the mouths of large rivers, and in narrow seas, it may have had some effect in raising the level of the flood tide; for the actual volume of water rolled in from the sea continues the same as it was formerly, but the space over which it has to diffuse itself being less deep and less broad, it must, therefore, force itself to a higher level. Other causes, however, may lead to the permanent rise of the sea in certain places; for instance, it is possible that the current which unceasingly rushes into the Mediterranean, may in the course of centuries have gradually widened the entrance; and consequently a greater quantity of water now pours in. This, combined with the deposits from the Rhone, the Po, the Nile, and other rivers, may, perhaps, account for the well known fact of the eastern end of that sea being now higher than it was formerly; many foundations of houses and other vestiges of buildings being visible there several feet under water.

“But none of these causes will account for the extensive submarine forests which have been discovered on several parts of the English coast, for example, in Lancashire, and in the Bristol Channel, near Bridgewater. In excavating the West India docks, in the Isle of Dogs, near London, a complete stratum of decayed hazel trees was found: the wood and bark were quite soft and decayed, but the nuts were in tolerable preservation. Your aunt, I believe, has some specimens of them, which she will readily shew you. The remains of the submarine forests of Lincolnshire were examined not very long ago, by a gentleman who has published a paper on the subject in the Philosophical Transactions, and if Caroline will fetch the volume for 1799, she and you may read his account.”

I shall make a few extracts from it here for Marianne’s benefit.

This gentleman, having learned that there were several sunken islets along the coast where the remains of trees could be seen, took the opportunity of a very low tide, to land on one of them, near the village of Sutton; and he found that it was a mass of roots, trunks, branches, and leaves of trees, intermixed with aquatic plants. An immense number of the stumps were still standing on their roots, which, as well as the bark of the branches, appeared almost as fresh as if they had been just cut; and in the bark of the birch, even the thin silvery membranes of the outer skin were discernible. The wood, on the contrary, was decomposed and soft: but he understood that the people of the country had often found very sound pieces of birch and oak of which they could make use. He remarked, that the trunks and thick branches were flattened, as if they had lain under the pressure of a heavy weight; which is observable also in the _surturbrand_ or fossil wood of Iceland, and of the Feroe Islands. Above the matted branches, he found a thick bed of decayed leaves, which were scarcely distinguishable at first; but after soaking a little in water, the leaves of holly and of other indigenous trees were easily separated.