BERTHA’S VISIT.

Dec. 1st.—Colonel Travers, who every day tells us something curious that he has seen in his travels, has been describing the cultivation of the pepper vine in the East Indies. In July, at the beginning of the rainy season, from eight to twelve shoots are planted round some tree chosen for their support; as they grow up they must be tied to its stem, and in dry or hot weather they are watered. They begin to bear in six years; in ten, they are in full perfection, and continue so for twenty years more, when they die. When the fruit is intended for black pepper, it is not allowed to ripen, but collected while green. As soon as the berries become hard and firm, which happens between the middle of December and the middle of January, they are pinched off by the fingers, placed on a mat, and rubbed by the hands or feet till the seeds, several of which are contained in each berry, are separated. These seeds are {2}then spread on mats; and at night they are collected in earthen jars, to preserve them from the dew. Two or three days’ exposure to the sun

sufficiently dries them, when they are put up in bags, containing from 60 to 120 pounds, and are then considered fit for sale. When the berries are intended to produce white pepper, they are allowed to become perfectly ripe, in which state they are red. They are then well rubbed in a basket, and when the pulp is washed off, the seeds are white, and are immediately dried for sale. The vines, however, in this case are apt to die, and in the province of Malabar but little white pepper is now made.

A good plant produces about 32 pounds: this is the highest produce; 21 pounds is the average. The mango tree is preferred for supporting the pepper vine, as the fruit is not affected by it; but the fruit of the jack tree, which is also used for the purpose, is thought to be injured in flavour by the pepper being so near it.

The Colonel says, that the pepper plant is not a vine in reality, though the knotted stem when dry has much the appearance of a common grape vine. The leaf, too, is different, being pointed, and with deep veins in it, all meeting at the point.

2d.—Caroline amused us after dinner with a singular anecdote of a musician of the name of Davy; though she was at first unwilling to {3}relate it, as she could not remember her authority.

He was the son of a Devonshire farmer, and when a little boy used to go continually to a neighbouring forge, where he seemed to be strangely interested in examining and sounding the horse-shoes.

After some time, the smith having frequently missed his shoes, began to suspect young Davy of stealing them; the boy was, therefore, watched, and one day he was observed to have separated two shoes from a parcel which he had been sounding for a long time. He took them up and went quietly off, but was followed, and traced to a loft, where he had formed a hiding-place for himself, unknown to any of his family. There he was found arranging his newly stolen treasure among a number of other horse-shoes which he had suspended with iron wires, so as to form a sort of musical instrument, on which with a small hammer he could play several tunes; particularly one with variations, which he had often heard chimed in the parish steeple.

The generous blacksmith not only forbore from punishing him, but joined in a subscription, by means of which he was apprenticed to a famous musician.—So much for genius.

4th, Sunday.—My uncle read to us this morning the account in Exodus of the institution of the feast of the Passover. It took place in the {4}beginning of the sacred or ecclesiastical year, in the month named Abib, which signifies, he says, an ear of corn; but this month was afterwards called Nisan, which means the “flight,” in allusion to the escape of the Israelites. It was at this same season that our Lord suffered for our redemption; and it is a remarkable circumstance that there was always a tradition among the Jews, that as they were redeemed from Egypt on the 15th day of Nisan, so they should on the same day be redeemed from death by the Messiah.

My uncle then said, “many of the ceremonial laws of the Hebrews had a direct reference to the idolatrous opinions and rites of the neighbouring nations. For instance, some of the ordinances of the passover, which was, you know, a memorial of the deliverance of the Israelites, were strikingly in opposition to the most deep-rooted prejudices of the Egyptians. Amongst that people, lambs and kids were held in the utmost veneration, and never sacrificed; but the Israelites were instructed to sacrifice both. The Israelites were desired to ‘eat no part raw,’ which might appear a very unnecessary injunction, did we not know that it was usual to do so in the heathen festivals, as we learn from Herodotus and from Plutarch, who both mention it as being customary at the feasts of Bacchus, which had their origin in Egypt. Of the Paschal lamb, ‘no bone was to be broken;’ for on those oc{5}casions the heathens broke the bones, and pulled them asunder with frantic enthusiasm. Neither was it to be ‘sodden,’ as in their magical rites:

but roasted by fire, and not by the heat of the sun, which was one of the chief objects of their idolatry. It was to be eaten along with ‘the purtenance,’ that is, the intestines, which the heathens reserved for their impious divinations. Lastly, ‘no fragments’ were suffered to remain, because the superstitious multitude had been in the habit of preserving them for charms; and they were, therefore, ordered to be burned.

“The lamb or kid was to be slain in the evening; the Hebrew expression is literally ‘between the two evenings;’—for among the Jews there was an early and a later evening; the first beginning at noon, as soon as the sun began to decline, and the second at sunset, which at this season of the year, the vernal equinox, took place at six o’clock. Thus the time ‘between the two evenings,’ when the passover was slain, was about three o’clock in the afternoon; and this was the very time of the day when Christ, the true passover, was sacrificed on the cross.

“What a striking analogy there is,” continued my uncle, “between that typical sacrifice of the Paschal lamb, and the grand sacrifice of Him{6} who is called ‘the Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world;’—between the deliverance of the Israelites from bondage, and the deliverance of mankind from sin, by a final atonement, which for ever closed all other offerings and sacrifices.”

I asked why they were desired to eat unleavened bread at this feast; and my aunt told us that some authors suppose it was to remind them of the privations and hardships they had formerly endured in Egypt, as it is very heavy and disagreeable. “But,” she added, “I have also understood that, in the ancient figurative mode, of expression, leaven was the emblem of hypocrisy and artifice; and therefore that eating the passover with unleavened bread, implied the performance of the ceremony in sincerity and truth. They were commanded to eat it with ‘their shoes on their feet, and their staff in their hand,’ or, in other words, equipped for a journey. It appears to have been, and indeed is still, the universal custom of the inhabitants of the East to put off their shoes during their meals; not only because that is a period of enjoyment and repose, but because, to people who sit cross-legged on the floor, shoes would be troublesome, and would soil their clothes and their carpets. This solemn meal, on the contrary, which was intended to commemorate

their miraculous and{7} abrupt deliverance from Egypt, was to be eaten by the Israelites in the dress and posture of travellers, as if ready for immediate departure.”

My uncle gave us an amusing instance of the punctilious regard that the Jews pay to the letter of the law; which not only prohibits their eating leavened bread, but their having it at all in the house. In Exodus xiii. 7, it is written, “Neither shall there be leaven seen with thee in all thy quarters.” On the eve of the passover, the master of the family, attended by all his children and servants, formally search every corner of the house with candles in their hands; but why with candles?—because in the prophet Zephaniah i., 12, it is written, “I will search Jerusalem with candles.”

“This feast,” continued my uncle, “was called the Passover, because the destroying angel of God passed over the Israelites without smiting them; and to pass over is a literal translation of the Hebrew word pesach. From whence also we have the expression of the Paschal Lamb.

“The deliverance from Egyptian bondage was a specific type of our subsequent deliverance from the yoke of sin, which we commemorate in the sacrament of the Lord’s supper; and it is remarkable, that both the Jewish and the Christian rite were enjoined as memorials of events which had not yet happened. To all mankind the privileges of this great second{8} deliverance are offered; and let us remember that, like the Israelites, we are but strangers and pilgrims here, hastening on to a land of promise.”

6th.—Mary asked Colonel Travers to-day why rice is called paddy in the East Indies. He told us that the wet lands capable of being cultivated for rice, are called, in the province of Malabar, padda land; and thence has the name paddy been given to the grain before the husk is beaten off. It is cultivated in all the low grounds which are periodically overflowed; or where the water can be regularly let in. Sometimes it is sown dry, on fields properly ploughed and moistened beforehand, and when the leaf is a certain height, the water is gently let into the furrows; but in many places it is sown very thickly, and afterwards transplanted. The general mode of preparing the seed is to steep it in water, and then to mix it up with earth in a shed, where it heats a little, and soon sprouts: when the shoot is nearly two inches long, it is carried in baskets to the field, and planted in rows.

The operation of cleaning rice is assisted by boiling for a short time; after which it is beaten in a mortar with a stick five or six feet long, the bottom of which is shod with iron. But the rice used by the higher class of Brahmins is not boiled, lest it should be in any way defiled: it is every morning cleaned dry by one of the{9} family, the labour of which is very great, because the husk adheres so closely to the grain.

Paddy is often kept in small caves called hagay, the entrance to each of which is by a very narrow passage. The roof, floor, and sides are lined with clean straw, and the cave is then completely filled.

Colonel Travers is just like my uncle, he is so ready to answer all our troublesome questions; and you may suppose that some of us ladies asked him about the ottar of roses. He says that the rose from which that essential oil is made, grows only in the valley of Shiraz, where there are immense fields of it. The flower is small, and of a deep red, and quite a different species from the rosa indica. It does not thrive south of Shiraz, as the climate is too hot; and the plants which have been brought to Bombay have generally failed.

We have had several rainy days, on which it was impossible to walk out; though it seldom happens, my uncle says, in this climate that there is not some part of the day quite fair.

The gravel walks here dry quickly, but nobody seems to care much about wet or dirt, their feet are so well defended from damp; and my aunt has provided me with all the comfortable preservatives from wet that my cousins have, so I force myself to go out and to take long walks. Sometimes we visit the poor people, to whom{10} a little sympathy and kindness seem to be a great comfort; and the school is so near the shrubbery, that, unless the rain is very heavy, Caroline contrives to go there every day.

When we are so much confined as we have been for the three last days, we take care to practise well at battledore and shuttlecock; yesterday evening I kept it up to three hundred. Sometimes four of us play at once without any confusion; and sometimes even my uncle joins us. My aunt encourages us to exercise ourselves with active plays; and if you and Marianne could peep at us, you would be amused at the vigour and emulation with which we perform Puss in the corner, and Friar’s ground, or “turn the blindfold hero round and round.” After luncheon is generally the time for these “laborious sports;” Grace, of course, delights in them, and my uncle and aunt seem fully to enjoy our glee and gaiety; for exercise and recreation, they say, should be mixed sufficiently with all our studious employments. You will smile when I confess that much as I like them now, I felt at first that these “romps,” as I called them, were rather too childish: my aunt told me to do as I liked; but, as I found that I only appeared conceited by sitting still, I soon conquered these silly feelings.

I have nothing more to say, except that I have begun to read Rollin’s Ancient History;{11} for the purpose of comparing the sacred and profane parts, and because I have some idea of endeavouring to make an historical chart for myself, which shall combine those two objects.

7th.—Ducks were the subject of discussion this morning at breakfast. My aunt told us that the Chinese, by whom great numbers are consumed, usually hatch them by artificial heat. The eggs are placed in boxes of sand, upon a brick hearth, which is kept at a proper degree of warmth, during the process; and the ducklings are fed with boiled rice, crabs, and cray-fish for a fortnight. They are then supplied with an old stepmother, who leads them where they can find food; being first put into a boat which is to be their constant habitation, and from which the whole flock, perhaps three or four hundred, go out to feed, and return at command.

The masters of the duck-boats row up and down the rivers according to the opportunity of procuring food; and these birds obey them in an extraordinary manner. Several thousands, belonging to different boats, may be seen feeding in the same place, yet on a signal, each flock will follow their leader to their respective boats without a single stranger having intruded.

Colonel Travers told us, that in a description of the south coast of Asia Minor, which he had lately read, a duck of extraordinary beauty is{12} mentioned. The plumage is white, with orange and dark glossy spots which are large and distinct, and in the males extremely brilliant. They fly in pairs, and their cry is loud and incessant. These ducks chiefly inhabit the cliffs of an island, and are peculiar to that part of the shore; and the author adds, what Colonel Travers considers to be a very singular fact—that, although the whole coast lies in nearly the same parallel of latitude, yet several species of the feathered race seem to be confined to particular districts.—For instance, at the western end, there were multitudes of the red-legged partridge; the middle of the coast was occupied by crows, and every hole and crevice in every rock had its family of pigeons; then came the ducks, and when they disappeared, the elevated cliffs seemed to be usurped by eagles. As he advanced still further to the eastward, even the common gull, which is

so plentiful every where else, became scarce, but its place was filled by swarms of the noisy sea-mew; and at the furthest extremity of the coast, he entered a shallow bay which was covered with swans, geese, and pelicans.

8th.—Mary was quite triumphant to-day in our genius argument, and produced two examples on her side, which she said were very strong.

The celebrated Dolomieu, she told us, entered very early in life into the religious order of Malta;{13} but having unfortunately resented some insult and killed his adversary, he was condemned to die, it being contrary to the rules of the order to use arms against any one but an “enemy of the Faith.” The grand-master, however, pardoned him; but the pardon not being immediately confirmed by the Pope, he continued in captivity nine months, before he was released. By this time, Dolomieu had become, as it were, a new man; the solitude and silence of his prison, and the necessity of dispelling his inquietude by occupation, had given him a habit of deep meditation; and he determined to devote the rest of his life to the acquirement of knowledge. He hesitated for some time between classical literature and natural history; but, at length, decided for the latter, in which he afterwards made so conspicuous a figure.

It cannot be denied, Mary says, that this is a proof that the mind may be led by circumstances to any pursuit. She then gave us some anecdotes of Baron Guyton de Morveau, as being still more favourable to her system.

“Guyton’s education was not neglected in the common routine of classical and theoretical learning; but his father, who had a passion for building, employed various artificers about his house, and young Guyton insensibly caught a taste for mechanics. This, which might have been considered{14} as a natural inclination, was merely the effect of example; and it was further excited by a circumstance that happened during his vacation: at a public sale in the neighbourhood, an old clock had remained unsold, owing to its bad condition, and he persuaded his father to give six francs for it. The ardent boy soon took it to pieces and cleaned it; he even added some parts that were wanting, and put the whole in order without assistance. In 1799, that is, fifty-four years afterwards, this clock was purchased at a higher price than was given for the estate and house together where it had originally been sold; having during the whole of that time preserved its movement in the most satisfactory manner. He once undertook the same operation for his

mother’s watch, and succeeded perfectly, though he was then only eight years of age. These details are sufficient to shew how impossible it is to predict, from the whims of childhood, the vocation likely to engage any individual at a more advanced period of life.—This little boy appeared to have a genius for mechanics, in consequence of circumstances attending his infancy—but no one has shewn less taste for mechanics than Guyton de Morveau, during his long and brilliant career as a chemical philosopher.”

9th.—My uncle told us to-day a curious mode{15} of catching fish by diving, which is practised in the Gulf of Patrasso, in Greece, and which is, he believes, peculiar to that place.

The diver being provided with a rope, made of a species of long grass, moves his boat where he perceives there is a rocky bottom: this done, he throws the rope out so as to form a tolerably large circle; and such is the timid nature of the fish, that instead of rushing away, they never attempt to pass this imaginary barrier, which acts as a sort of talisman; they only descend to the bottom, and endeavour to conceal themselves amongst the rocks. After waiting a few moments till the charm has taken effect, the diver plunges in, and generally returns with several fine fish. As he seldom finds more than their heads concealed, there is the less difficulty in taking his prizes; and these divers are so dexterous that they have a method of securing four or five fish under each arm, beside what they can carry in their hands.