CHAPTER III.
_Another visit to the anthill.――Honey-dew.――The different kinds of ants, and other things._
As soon as breakfast was over, the next day, Jack and his aunt set out to visit the ants in the garden. Jack soon pointed out a hill, which he had observed before, and they both sat down to watch the little creatures at their work.
As usual, all seemed to be busy. Some appeared to be occupied in bringing out the eggs, which they laid in the sun, so that they might hatch the sooner. Some were engaged in cleaning out the house, for they were seen to bring out small pieces of sand, which they carried to a little distance, and threw them away. One was seen to come up with a pretty large piece of earth, which he rolled along with much difficulty.
While a part of the little people were thus engaged in housewifery, others appeared to be bringing them food. Sometimes these brought flies and pieces of insects; sometimes they appeared to have filled their stomachs, and when they met their friends who staid at home, they would put a part of their food into their mouths, and feed them, as a mother does a child.
As I have said, Aunt Piper had a good deal of knowledge, and she had heard that ants sometimes get a kind of honey from other insects. She was very curious to see this herself. So she watched some of the little creatures, and observed that they went to the dandelions that were growing near by. They ascended the stalks, some of which were covered with what is called honey-dew, a substance deposited by lice, which live in great numbers upon vegetables.
Many of the ants stopped to eat this honey-dew, which they seemed to be very fond of; but others, not finding any of this on the stalks, mounted to the full-blown dandelions, where they found numbers of these little insects imbedded in the yellow down. The ants immediately began to suck the honey-dew from them, and what was wonderful, these creatures kept quite still, and seemed pleased to have the ants lick the honey off from them!
This sight gratified Jack and his aunt very much, and they spent a long time in watching the operations of these curious creatures. After spending two or three hours very pleasantly, they went to the house. Aunt Piper then got a little book and read all about ants to Jack. I will tell you a few wonderful things she read to him.
There are a great many kinds of ants; some are almost an inch long, and others are not bigger than a grain of sand. In some countries the ants build hills twice as high as a man’s head. In Africa there are white ants, that devour trees, and they are so numerous that it is dangerous for men to go among them, unless several can go together and destroy them at once.
The little garden ants are very harmless; they not only eat up a great deal of the honey-dew deposited by lice upon plants, and which would otherwise injure them, but they also devour a vast deal of matter that would putrefy and make the air unwholesome.
In our next number we shall tell some curious adventures between Jack and the beetles.
[Illustration]
The Moon.
Here is a picture of the moon, not as it appears to the naked eye, but as it looks when seen through a telescope.
By means of a telescope, we know that the moon is a great round world. It has hills and valleys and mountains upon it; but it probably has no sea.
Whether there are people living in the moon, we cannot tell, but it is probable there are; perhaps, too, that there are animals of various kinds in the moon.
The moon looks bright, because the sun shines upon it. When the moon does not appear to be round, it is because the sun does not light the whole of the surface turned toward us.
It is very pleasant to read about the moon, and the sun, and the stars; and all children who will learn to read well, can know a great deal about these interesting things.
[Illustration]
The Meadow Lark.
This is one of the handsomest birds that belongs to our country. Its back is brown, mingled with black; its breast is a bright yellow marked with black. It comes to New England in April. It lives in the meadows; and both at morning and evening, it loves to mount an apple tree, and sing its song.
This consists of a few simple notes, and though they are a little sad, they are not unpleasing. The bird builds its nest on the ground, and hatches three or four young ones at a time.
When autumn comes, the larks gather in small flocks, and proceed to the south, where they spend the winter; but when the cold weather is gone, and the snow has all departed, they come back to the places where they were born and bred, singing their songs, as if pleased to return.
[Illustration]
The Bird’s Nest.
Do you see how carefully and how curiously this bird has built its nest? Do you see how neatly it is tied to the tall grass? how nicely it is rounded? how well it is bound together?
This bird has taken a deal of pains to build its nest, and do you not think it would be cruel to destroy it?
The nest is a place where the little bird and its mate expect to hatch their young ones; where they expect to shelter them, feed them, and bring them up, till they can fly away and take care of themselves.
How sad would the little birds be if any one should come along and carry away their pretty home, and destroy all their hopes and happiness!
Would not your father and mother be sorry, if any cruel person should come and destroy their house? Why then shall boys and girls destroy the houses of the pretty birds?
MERRY’S MUSEUM.
Vol. V. MAY 1843. No. 5.
[Illustration]
Shrine of San Rosalia, at Palermo.
San Rosalia, the Saint of Palermo, in Sicily, and whose shrine is prefixed to this article, was, according to legend, the daughter of William the Good, who reigned in the year 1159. At the age of fifteen, she retired to Monte Pelegrino, in order to spend the remainder of her life in religious solitude, and a period of nearly five hundred years elapsed without her even being heard of. In 1624, a plague, which threatened to depopulate this capital, raged at Palermo. A hermit, whose name is not given in the legend, dreamt that the bones of the saint Rosalia were on the top of Mount Pelegrino, and that if they were carried in procession round the walls of the city, the plague would cease.
After prayers and supplications, he induced a number of individuals to go in procession to the top of the mountain, where the remains of Rosalia were found, it is said, in a cave. Some pretend that the body was fresh, and looked as if she had died at the age of fifteen; while others assert that there were only the bones. Then they were carried round the city walls, and the plague gradually ceased. This was accounted a miracle; and churches were built to her honor. A chapel was erected on the top of the mountain where she was found, and priests appointed to perform divine service.
To facilitate the approach to those sacred relics, the Palermitans, after immense labor, constructed a road up the face of the mountain, which is nearly perpendicular; and though dangerous, that by no means operates as a check to the devotion of hundreds who seek the protection and patronage of the saint.
The pretended bones of this saint are now annually carried about the city in a large silver box, and, according to popular belief, she has several times since her discovery saved the Sicilians from the plague. Long before the celebration of the festival, she becomes the subject of general conversation, and excites the greatest interest. Her triumphal car is made to an immense height, is built on the Marino, and, when completed, is drawn through the principal street by a number of richly dressed mules, preceded by dragoons with trumpets. On the lower part of the machine is an orchestra, and above it is a small temple, in the interior of which are figures of different saints, and on the top of all a large statue of San Rosalia. Every side of the machine is decorated with flowers, and during the ceremony, the street is crowded with people, and the windows, to all of which are balconies, are filled with ladies. At night there is a general illumination.
The amusements at this Palermo rejoicing vary each day: one night the Flora Gardens are illuminated; on another one, the streets; and in the daytime horse-races. The latter, from their peculiarities, are worthy of notice. The horses start from the bottom of the principal street, near the Porto Felice, and run to the Porto Nuovo. They have no riders, but have small bladders fixed on their backs, in which are inserted sharp spikes, serving, by the motion, to urge them on. The prizes run for are generally small, consisting of from ten to fifteen ounces in dollars fastened to a board, and the horse that wins is led in procession with the prize before him.
The illumination of the Madre Chiesa, which is the cathedral church of Palermo, excites the admiration of all travellers. It is here where the box, containing the bones of St. Rosalia, is deposited. The last ceremony is a grand procession, in which the silver box is carried by the principal citizens, who consider it a great honor. Immense crowds endeavor to get near to touch it, for they consider that this act is a remedy for all evils.
The approach of this festival produces general joy and happiness; and the people are so attached to the memory of the saint, that it is supposed that any attempt to suppress her commemoration would be attended with the most serious consequences.
* * * * *
ENGLISH CONUNDRUMS
Why is Mr. Roebuck a nice man? When is a queen not a quean? When is a breeze like a pocket handkerchief? When is winter like a face? When is a lion like a laundress? _Conundrums to the Queen._
[Illustration]
May.
“May, the delicate-footed May, the month of flowers and song-birds, of bland and balmy breezes and genial sunshine, the poet’s month, has come at last.” Yes, it has come; but the first of May, in New England, does not always bring the song of birds, or the bloom of flowers. In England, the spring is a very beautiful season, and May is ever a month of bloom. The first day of the month is one of rejoicing. The people in the villages assemble, erect a pole, and, decked in flowers, they dance around it. In France the people meet together, and one of the girls is chosen queen of the festivity. They have a very gay time of it. Sometimes the season is sufficiently advanced here, to admit of a similar celebration. In Pennsylvania, and the states south of it, May is a season of general bloom.
In New York, the first day of May is usually occupied by the people in getting their furniture from the houses they are going to leave, to those they are going to live in. “The first of May!” says one of the New York editors, “there is something _moving_ in the very name.” The following lines are descriptive of the occasion:
Bustle, bustle, clear the way, He moves, we move, they move to-day; Pulling, hauling, fathers calling, Mothers bawling, children squalling, Coaxing, teasing, whimpering, rattling; Pots and pans, and kettles rattling, Tumbling bedsteads, flying bedspreads, Broken chairs, and hollow wares, Strew the street――’tis moving day. Bustle, bustle, stir about, Some moving in――some moving out; Some move by team, some move by hand, An annual callithumpian band. Landlords dunning, tenants shunning; Laughing, crying, dancing, sighing―― Spiders dying, feathers flying, Shaking bed rugs, killing bed bugs, Scampering rats, mewing cats, Whining dogs, grunting hogs, What’s the matter? moving day!
COUNTRY PURSUITS.――How happy is the condition of the farmer, and of country people generally, at this fine season; how great their privileges, living amidst the fields which are now putting on their green attire, the woods whose buds are bursting into leaf, and the flowers which are beginning to display their bloom! How great is their privilege, instead of being amid the din of carts and wagons, to be cheered by the minstrelsy of birds during the day, and soothed at night by the plaintive notes of the frogs, which issue from every valley. How fragrant the air――how cheerful, healthful, peaceful, the occupation of sowing, planting and pruning! Let no man living in the country, envy city people and their fine houses. Let no man, whose lot is to labor with his hands, envy those who live without labor. Of all persons, those who live without bodily labor are most likely to miss the great ends of life――health, peace of mind, and contentment; none so likely to obtain them, as those who toil with their hands. There is many a rich man, who has broken down his constitution by care, anxiety, and mental exertion, that would gladly resign his houses, and horses and carriages, for the good appetite, the sweet sleep, the cheerful serenity of the day laborer. I once heard of a beggar, who applied to a rich man for relief from hunger. “Hunger?” said the rich man;――“hunger! why, my friend, I would give all I am worth for such an appetite. Hunger, indeed!――why, you are infinitely less a beggar than I. Sometimes you suffer, perhaps, for want of food; still, in general, you can get a crust of bread, or a piece of cold meat; and with your appetite, these are delicious. Thus, eating is, after all, a source of great enjoyment to you. But I have no appetite; I never eat but with aversion. Thus, in the midst of abundance and seeming luxury, through loss of health, I am worse than a beggar.”
But let us turn our attention to the practical matters of the farm and garden. May is the season for planting Indian corn, sowing oats, and summer wheat. This latter, as well as winter wheat, has been much neglected in New England for some years, from an idea that it is not a safe crop. But take my advice, and try it again. Be assured that the raising of wheat may be made very profitable in New England.
Fessenden is of opinion that it might be well for the population of these United States, were we to consume as articles of diet more poultry and less butcher’s meat. In France, poultry forms an important part of the live stock of the farmer; and it has been said by well informed persons, that among the French, the poultry yards supply a much greater quantity of food to the mass of the community than the shambles.
You will find much innocent and profitable amusement in your garden, and will please to plant bush beans and pole beans of various sorts, having enriched the soil with horse or hog manure. With regard to pole beans, you will do as well to set the poles first, and then plant the beans round the poles.
In the open ground, plant cucumbers, cabbages, cauliflowers, late peas, early corn, squashes, melons, gourds, &c. Hoe and bush such peas as have come forward, and weed all the plants which have made their appearance.
Let me say a few words in favor of the birds, which, at this time, are on every tree. A notion prevails that birds do great injury in gardens and fields, and hence, many of them are shot, and boys are encouraged to persecute them with stones. A person of long experience has ascertained that birds, in general, do far more good by destroying vermin, than they do harm by the little grain and fruit they consume. In a district of Germany, there was once an order given to kill all the rooks, which are birds of the crow kind. This was complied with, and the consequence was, that the wheat crop was almost entirely destroyed by insects, which the rooks would have devoured.
[Illustration]
The Village of Economy.
This is a New England village, and is remarkable for its pleasant, cheerful aspect. Every person who rides through it is delighted; and the place has such a reputation, that the land is worth more, and the houses will sell for more, than in almost any other place of the kind you can name. And this all arises from the good taste, neatness, and order, which characterize the inhabitants. I give you a view of the house belonging to Capt. John Pepperidge; a careful, correct, upright man, who has risen from poverty to ease and competence, by industry, economy, and prudence.
His house stands three or four rods back from the street; the front yard is green and grassy, and decorated with fruit trees. The wood pile is fenced in; the barn yard, pig pen, &c., are also tidily fenced. It is a maxim of Pepperidge’s that there _should be a place for everything, and that everything should be in its place_. This is his great maxim; and he not only observes it himself, but he requires every man, woman, and child, about him, to observe it also. He says it saves him one hundred dollars a year.
He has other rules, such as _a stitch in time, saves nine_; and so as soon as a stone falls off the wall he puts it up; when a rail gets out of the fence, he replaces it; when a gate is broken, it is forthwith repaired; if a clapboard is loose, a nail clenches it. Thus matters are kept tight and tidy. Of a wet day, instead of going to the tavern, he spends the time in making little repairs. At odd moments of leisure, he sets out trees and shrubs――thus, year by year, beautifying his place, and rendering it not only more comfortable, but also worth more money, in case he should ever desire to sell it.
Capt. Pepperidge takes great pleasure, and perhaps a little innocent pride, in his place――though, to say the truth, it is by no means costly. He loves better to spend his time in making it more comfortable and pleasant; in setting out trees, improving the grounds, mending the fences, &c., than in going about to talk politics, or gossip upon other people’s business, or in haunting a tavern bar-room. In short, his home is comfortable, pleasant, delightful. It is neat and orderly, inside and out. And he has made it so; though his wife, having happily felt the influence of his example, contributes her share to the good work. His children are well dressed――well educated――well behaved. Can such a man be a drunkard? Can he be vicious? Can he be wicked? Who has so good a chance of health, and wealth and happiness? Who so likely to be respected by his neighbors? Who so likely to do good by his influence and example? Come, Capt. Wideopen, I pray you, and learn a lesson of farmer Pepperidge!
Let us look at the practical effect of Pepperidge’s example. Formerly the village of Economy was called Uneasy-Swamp, and was inhabited by a set of people becoming the name. They were poor, ignorant, idle, and _uneasy_. They were jealous of all rich people, and considered the unequal distribution of property a dreadful evil. They were equally jealous of the wise, and considered the unequal distribution of knowledge a nuisance to be abated. They were also jealous of the virtuous, and hated nothing so much as a just and honest man. In short, they were, half a century ago, where some conceited but ignorant and uninformed people are now――willing to level everybody and thing to their own standard. If a candidate for office was up, who addressed their prejudices and coaxed them with promises,――though meaning to cheat them――he was the man for them. The more ignorant a magistrate――the more mean――the more base――the more fellow-feeling rendered them kind, and the more ardently they espoused his cause. Such was Uneasy-Swamp, a place which has its image still in some parts of the country.
But Pepperidge came among the people and set them a good example. They persecuted him――reviled him――hated him――ridiculed him――broke down his fences at night――and played him sundry mischievous tricks. But he was patient, and tough in his patience, as the tree that gave him a name. And he overcame them at last. One by one, the villagers began to imitate him. The small brown houses gradually lost their look of squalidness and disorder. The swamp emerged from its shadow, and became a cultivated valley. The little farmers and the humble mechanics rose from their degraded condition; education spread its light; industry, frugality, showered down their blessings, and Uneasy-Swamp became the flourishing village of Economy.
And thus, though none of the people are what is called rich, none are poor. The small houses are neat, and the fruit trees, the blossoming shrubs, the green grass, around them, declare that the people are happy. They are not mad in the foolish chase for riches, which is destroying more peace in this country, than all the bodily diseases our flesh is heir to. They are now, from better knowledge, satisfied that the rich man shall possess his wealth, both because they perceive that generally speaking the laboring classes are the happiest, and that the security of property is the only steady impulse to economy, industry, providence, and the other important village virtues. They are more fond of knowledge, for they perceive that it increases their power of being happy. They respect talent and wisdom, for they know that these are gifts sent by Heaven, for the guidance of man to happiness. In politics they are staunch republicans, but always give their votes for men of sterling integrity. A man who has the general character of being an artful, intriguing office-seeker, has no chance with them. They are perhaps a little prejudiced against cities and city people. If they ever have anything to do with a lawyer, they go to one who has been bred in the country, and one who was in early life a farmer. They think, and think justly, that while this rustic breeding gives a man an habitually honest and plain turn of mind, it also renders him more knowing, sagacious, and favorable in his feelings in respect to country people.
I cannot better close this sketch than by introducing some lines which are much esteemed in the village of Economy; every man, woman and child knows them by heart.
“Let order o’er your time preside, And method all your business guide. Early begin, and end, your toil; Nor let great tasks your hands embroil. One thing at once be still begun, Contrived, resolved, pursued, and done. Hire not, for what yourselves can do; And send not, when yourselves can go; Nor till to-morrow’s light delay What might as well be done to-day. By steady efforts all men thrive, And long by moderate labor live; While eager toil and anxious care, Health, strength, and peace, and life impair.
“Nor think a life of toil severe; No life has blessings so sincere. Its meals are luscious, sleep so sweet, Such vigorous limbs, such health complete; No mind so active, brisk, and gay, As his who toils the livelong day. A life of sloth drags hardly on; Suns set too late, and rise too soon; Youth, manhood, age, all linger slow, To him who nothing has to do. The drone, a nuisance to the hive, Stays, but can scarce be said to live; And well the bees, those judges wise, Plague, chase, and sting him till he dies.
“With punctual hand your taxes pay, Nor put far off the evil day. How soon to an enormous size Taxes succeeding taxes rise! How easy one by one discharged! How hardly in the mass enlarged! How humbling the intrusive dun! How fast, how far, the expenses run! Fees, advertisements, travel, cost, And that sad end of all, the post! This gulf of swift perdition flee And live from duns and bailiffs free.
“In merchants’ books, from year to year, Be cautious how your names appear. How fast their little items count! How great, beyond your hopes, the amount! When shelves o’er shelves inviting stand, And wares allure, on either hand; While round you turn enchanted eyes, And feel a thousand wants arise, (Ye young, ye fair, these counsels true Are penn’d for all, but most for you,) Ere fancy lead your hearts astray, Think of the means you have to pay.”
* * * * *
GOD SEES EVERYWHERE.
A Father once said to his son, “Carry this parcel to your aunt’s.” “It is the Sabbath, father,” said the boy. “Well, put it in your pocket,” replied the father. “God can see into my pocket,” answered the child.
Mohammed.
Among the great changes which have been made in the world, not a few have been made by arch impostors, for there seem to be no boundaries to human credulity. Mohammed, the founder of the religion which bears his name, was one of these. Of his history I intend to give my young readers a few particulars, because I think they ought to know something of a man who has given a religion to nearly a third portion of the human race.
Mohammed began his reign A. D. 609, in the fortieth year of his age. He first shut himself up, and fasted and prayed for a considerable time. After this he pretended to have had communications with the angel Gabriel, the particulars of which he related to his wife. Astonished by his vehemence and the boldness of his pretensions, (for these two qualities sometimes completely overpower people,) she began to give out to her friends and neighbors that Mohammed was an apostle of God. Through her instrumentality her uncle or cousin, Wooaka, was gained, who is said to have been a Christian, and well acquainted with the Old and New Testaments. Mohammed’s servant next became a convert; and, a far more important person, his young nephew, Ali, called the Fiery, from the ardor of his temper.
Soon after this, Mohammed gained over Abubeker, a man of excellent character, who stood in high respect, and persuaded ten of the most considerable citizens of Mecca to follow his example. They were all instructed by Mohammed in the doctrine of the Islam, as he styled his new religion; and Mohammed gave from day to day, as from the angel Gabriel, the revelations he pretended to have received.
And now I wish my young readers to understand a fact――namely, that it was to an admixture of much good with his imposture that the importance of Mohammed succeeded. The religion of the people among whom he dwelt was that of an absurd and wicked Polytheism. They were either infidels or worshipped a number of bug-bears which they called gods. Mohammed taught the great truth upon which true religion rests――namely, that there was ONE GOD. He added, that Mohammed was his prophet; thus mixing truth and falsehood so artfully together that it was impossible for the weaker minded of his friends to separate them. Having believed that Mohammed was the prophet of God, they, of, course, believed everything else concerning him. And when he asserted that he put the moon in the sleeve of his dress, his disciples believed him. And at last the Mohammedan, although a profound mathematician and an excellent calculator, placed implicit faith in his pretended journey to heaven on the beast Alborak.
After a while Mohammed incited the members of his family and his followers to a grand feast, and openly announced to them his determination to found a new religion, and asked which of them would undertake the office of vizier. All were silent, till the youthful Ali declared his readiness to do so, and at the same time his determination to inflict vengeance upon all those who dared to oppose his master. How different was the conduct of our blessed Saviour, who, when Peter drew his sword and cut off the ear of the servant of the high priest, said, “Put up thy sword into its sheath; they who take the sword shall perish by the sword.”
Mohammed, like all others who have wrought great changes in the opinions of men, had powerful opponents among those who obtained rank and profit from old errors. On several occasions Mohammed was attacked by the adherents of idolatry with open force, and compelled to change his residence, and often to flee for his life. But these persecutions had the effect, as all persecutions ever have, to spread the faith they were used to put down. Learn this, my young friends, that the more you tread on a mind full of enthusiasm, the more it turns and flies in your face.
At this time occurred Mohammed’s celebrated nocturnal journey to heaven, on the beast Alborak, under the guidance of the angel Gabriel. After this, great numbers of people flocked to him, and he began to have thoughts of founding his religion by the sword. Exasperated at seeing Mohammed and his followers gird themselves with weapons of offence, his enemies formed a conspiracy to murder him; but, warned of the imminent danger, he left Mecca, accompanied by Abubeker alone, and concealed himself in a cave not far distant. There he spent three days undiscovered; after which he arrived safely at Medina, though not without many narrow escapes for his life. This event, from which the Mohammedans commence their era, is known under the name of Hegira, which signifies flight.
In Medina, Mohammed met with the most honorable reception. Thither he was followed by many of his converts; and as the number of the faithful continued to increase, he began making preparations for war. Many of those who followed Mohammed did so for the sake of what they obtained from him; but when the hopes of booty were added to other inducements, thousands joined him. His first great military exploit was the spoiling of a rich caravan, led by Abu Sophian, the chief of the Koreishites. Mohammed surprised them, with an inferior force, in the valley of Beder, and inflicted on them a total defeat. He took a rich booty and numbers of prisoners.
Many other successful enterprises were now undertaken; but in the third year of the Hegira, Abu Sophian, with 3000 soldiers, attacked Mohammed with 950, on Mount Opud, not far from Medina, and a desperate conflict ensued, in which the Moslems were utterly beaten, and the wounded prophet with difficulty saved his life. Mohammed, with the craftiness common to impostors, attributed this defeat to the sins of the Moslems. He then promised Paradise to all that should for the future die in his cause, and announced that everybody had a fate; that it was of no use to endeavor to withstand it; that every one died at his _appointed hour_, and if he did not die in battle, when the appointed hour came he would die nevertheless. This of course made the poor weak creatures who followed him ready to do anything.
In the following year, Abu Sophian appeared before Medina with 10,000 men; but, by a division among themselves, this army broke up, and Mohammed fell upon some bands of Jews who had united with them. These he cut to pieces, slaughtering nearly a thousand, and carried away the women and children into captivity.
The next act of the prophet was to offer up prayers to God. He then sent a summons to the principal neighboring princes, and also to those of the various districts of Arabia, to embrace the new revelation of the divine law made through him; and many of these princes embraced his doctrine.
But the city of Mecca was a sacred city, according to the religion of the Arabs, and Mohammed knew the importance of making his head quarters, if possible, at so celebrated a place. He craved permission to visit it and its temple as a pilgrim. While at his apparent devotions he converted two men of great renown among the Arabs, called Amru and Othman, and he in consequence became more powerful and raised a larger army. Having made war on the city of Muta, in Palestine, he soon returned to Mecca with an army of 12,000 men; and, having defeated the Koreishites, compelled them, with the point of the sword at their throats, to embrace the Islam. The idols of the Kaba were demolished, and the sacred touch of the prophet made the black stone an object of greater veneration. The temple became the sanctuary of the religion of Mohammed, and its professors were allowed access alone to the holy city of Mecca.
Mohammed now destroyed all the idols he could lay his hands upon; and, going forward in the same course he had begun, and now at the head of 30,000 men, he marched into Syria, claiming homage from all he conquered, and soon became the master of the whole of Arabia. He forced his religion upon the inhabitants, but allowed the Christians free toleration.
In the tenth year of the Hegira, Mohammed took his farewell pilgrimage to Mecca; and on this occasion he was surrounded with the utmost splendor, and attended by 100,000 of his friends and followers. This was the last and most important event of his life; for, soon after his return to Medina, he died, in the eleventh year of the Hegira, and in the sixty-third year of his age.
[Illustration]
A Fourth of July Oration,[1]
BY ONE ALCOHOL.
Ladies and Gentlemen,――This is a great day――a day of independence. It is a day upon which myself and one Gunpowder, have long been accustomed to make a display. I hope that the foolish attempt to celebrate the fourth of July without us, will be frowned down. Who ever thought of being funny without being fuddled? Who ever thought of being truly independent, and setting all law and gospel at defiance, without my help?
Ladies and gentlemen, I am a great character. Forgive me, if, on this glorious occasion, I set forth my merits. It is one of my privileges, as well as that of my subjects, to be boastful and vain-glorious. I shall, therefore, proceed to speak of myself.
My name is _Alcohol_! I solicit the favor of your attention to a subject, which lies near my heart. I am a great prince, and, like other distinguished potentates, I have my followers. To thousands and tens of thousands of these, I feel under profound obligations for the homage they have done me. They have loved me to _intoxication_; and, in doing me reverence, have often _fallen_ at my feet. If the heathen prostrate themselves before stocks and stones, may not Christians prostrate themselves before me?
Allow me to tell you something of my subjects. Let me expatiate upon their merits. Let me set forth some of their characteristics; and then pronounce your judgment――then say, if monarch ever had higher reason than Alcohol to be proud of his people.
And _first_; my followers are remarkably _devoted_.
From the standards of Napoleon, Wellington, and even that of Washington, _desertion_ was not uncommon. But, until recently, this crime has scarcely been known in _my_ army. For my sake I have known my friends forsake father and mother, wife and children. Nay, such has been their zeal in my cause, that they have sacrificed property, health, and even life itself. Indeed, I may say, that from a _pure_ devotion to me, thousands have come to an untimely grave.
The most popular monarchs have their enemies. Doubtless, I have mine, particularly in these sad days of delusion and pretended reform. But, then, I have reason to think, that some, and probably the number is large, though ostensibly my enemies, are _secretly_ my friends. From motives of _policy_, they say they must _appear_ to be against me, but when _closeted_ they assure me that they still _love_ me, and I think they often give no small evidence of the fact. They have a deep _intestine_ attachment to me. Upon these friends I depend to restore me to my former honors, and had they the power, I think I should reign as triumphantly as ever.
Before I proceed farther, I must say a word about my domestic affairs, and which explains the trouble that has grown up in society, in respect to me. Many years ago I was married to Cold Water. We had a large family, the pride of which we called Grog, and a glorious fellow he was too. I hardly knew his equal, unless it was Toddy――the drollest dog you ever met with. Such times as we did have! Toddy, Grog, and the rest, used to fall to and scratch, bite, pull hair, give black eyes, &c. Those were glorious days, and I am sorry to say, that the times have grown very degenerate. I positively fear that a row or a black eye will not be heard of ten years hence.
However, I must go on with my speech. Some evil-minded persons brought about a divorce between me and Cold Water; she then set up for herself, and since that time, there’s been a regular strife between us. We’re now trying to see which shall get the biggest army, and the consequence is that society is torn to pieces. My dear friends, listen to me, and then choose on which side you will enlist.
Let me tell you something about my followers. In the first place they are _brave_. In a single instance, during the revolutionary war, the English officers mingled gunpowder with the spirit, in order to inspire their soldiers with greater courage. I could have taught them a better lesson than this. They needed a little _Fourth proof Jamaica_. FOURTH PROOF, you observe――_that_ manufactures the courage. Why, I never yet saw an army or a rabble, whose courage flagged, if they had taken a sufficient quantity of the pure “_critter_,”――pure, pure, you observe, not weakened down till you couldn’t tell whether there was most water, or most spirit. I have some _veterans_ in my service, which I think would stand an action as hot as Bunker Hill is said to have been. These are my _red-eyed_ and _red-nosed_ soldiers, and whom I keep as a _corps de reserve_. I think of enrolling them in a regiment by themselves. They are without “fear of things present or things to come.” Promotion is certain in this corps, and all my soldiers get into it, after a proper length of service. My subjects, also, possess strong points of _similarity_.
And 1st., of their _uniform_. The uniform adopted by me is _red_, sometimes bearing upon purple. My subjects look exceedingly well in it, especially when set with jewels, known by the name of _carbuncles_. A few prefer a _pale_ exterior for their uniform, inclining to _yellow_. These are those whom I call _gin_-ites. They are mostly of the softer sex, who have acquired this pallid look by the use of gin or opium, and snuff. To my eye, there is nothing in creation half so beautiful as a woman, under the influence of gin or opium, in the attitude of taking _snuff_, especially when her fingers scatter it over her dress like a Scotch mist.
2d. _Language._ My subjects belong to different countries, and consequently speak different languages. But even here strong resemblances may be traced. Whatever be their mother tongue, their accents, inflexions and _cadences_, especially the latter, are strikingly similar. Some _lisp_ beautifully――some have an elegant _clip_ of their words――others at times are affected with _hesitancy_ and _stammering_, or perhaps they are unable to speak at all. I have known persons complain that it is difficult to understand them; but it must be remembered, that union is a great thing, and this affection of the speech makes all alike, and therefore cultivates fellow-feeling, which makes us kind to one another.
3d. _Attitudes._ In this term, I include walking, marching, riding and evolutions in general; in all which my followers exhibit a wonderful sameness. You would at once perceive that they had been disciplined by the same master, and were actuated by the same _spirit_. The many graces of action are probably better understood by them, than by any other people on the globe. I have often been in ecstasies, in looking at one of my veterans, advancing towards me――he has given me such a delightful idea of _Hogarth’s waving line of beauty_. But my _mounted_ volunteers are, perhaps, my greatest pride. In elegant horsemanship, they excel. I doubt whether Mohammed himself, when he rode Alborak, presented a finer appearance than some of our _Knights of the Bottle_. They are so easy――so full of elegant motion――now on this side――now on that――forwards and backwards――lateral, circular, and zigzag, that you would decide it to be equal to any “_ground_ tumbling” you ever met with. And with all their _courtesies_, for they seldom pass any one without making a _profound_ bow――they seldom lose their balance so as to fall. This I account for, in some instances at least, from the sagacity of their horses, which usually know more than their riders!
_A fourth characteristic is Independence._ My followers are ever ready to pay me and my family the honors of sovereignty; but here their homage terminates. They are, to a man, _freemen_, and have taken their oath a thousand times, that they will live _freely_, however they may die. They sing beautifully, and sincerely, especially such couplets as these:
“He that lives and goes to bed mellow, Lives as he ought to do, and dies a clever fellow.”
Generally, they feel rich, however poor; and have golden prospects, without the certainty of a single dollar. I have known them, even when lying at the bottom of a ditch, and unable to move a limb――so buoyant with spirits, as to call out to the universe――“to the right wheel, march!”
A _fifth_ characteristic of my subjects is, _genius_. The tendency of all my influence is to bring the _energies of the skull into action_. Under my tuition, genius is sure to expand; and I have known even those who were thought to be wanting in common sense, to have heads that would delight Spurzheim himself. Phrenologists often talk about _bumps_, as indications of great powers. This is sound philosophy, and I have a mode of making bumps by an expeditious process. I assure you, I have known a whole family of geniuses made in one night, at a bar-room or a grog-shop. A jug of the pure thing is superior to a college education, for developments of the craniology.
Finally, my friends, one of my people knows more than anybody else――or he thinks he does, which is the same thing. It is an old adage, that “_the drunken man thinks the world turns round_.” What a glorious privilege! It is true that he reels and staggers, and perhaps tumbles down; but still, he thinks that he alone is upright, steadfast and perpendicular! while everybody else is tipping and diving as if there was an earthquake! Is not this an enviable superiority? Thus it is, my friends, if you embrace me, you will, in your own heart and mind, be
――――“glorious, O’er all your enemies victorious!”
You may be clothed in rags, tumbled into a gutter――an object of pity and sorrow to all around; yet, strong in your confidence in me, you will remain
“A man superior to his accidents!”
You will think that you know more than anybody else, are better than anybody else, and are alike superior to the restraints of decency, morality, religion and law. This is true independence! This is unbounded liberty. If, the next day, you feel the horrors――take a little more of me. A little more and a little more――is the true way to keep it up. Walk up, gentlemen and ladies! now’s your time. Who’s for King Alcohol and independence! Who’ll enlist under my banner, for time and eternity?
[1] The substance of this was delivered by a youth at a temperance celebration, on the Fourth July last.
* * * * *
CLEAN CLOTHES.――Purity of vesture seems to be a principal precept of nature, and observable throughout the animal creation. Fishes, from the nature of the element in which they reside, can contract but little impurity. Birds are unceasingly attentive to neatness and lustration of their plumage. All the slug race, though covered with slimy matter, calculated to collect extraneous things, and reptiles are perfectly free from soil. The fur and hair of beasts, in a state of liberty and health, is never filthy, or sullied with dirt.
Some birds roll themselves in dust, and occasionally particular beasts cover themselves with mire; but this is not from any liking or inclination for such things, but to free themselves from annoyances, or prevent the bites of minute insects. Whether birds in pluming, or beasts in dressing themselves, be directed by any instinctive faculty, we know not, but they evidently derive pleasure from the operation, and thus the feeling of enjoyment, even if the sole motive, becomes to them an essential source of comfort and of health.
* * * * *
SUBSERVIENCY.――A farmer in Surrey, England, being asked for whom he intended to vote at the next election, naively replied, “Can’t tell; ha’n’t heard from master yet.”
[Illustration: _Apollo._ _Jupiter._]
Heathen Mythology.
A great many years ago, the people, over almost all Europe and a large part of Asia, believed in gods whom they called Jupiter, Mars, Mercury, Apollo, &c. They believed in goddesses too, such as Juno, Venus, Vesta, &c.
These people built temples in honor of their gods and goddesses, many of which were very splendid. In these temples they had statues of the particular gods to whom they were dedicated. Here, also, there were priests, who offered sacrifices to the gods, such as bulls, sheep, birds, &c.
This system, having its origin in the fancy of man, was called _Mythology_――which means a religion of fables. It is supposed to have been commenced by the Egyptians, three or four thousand years ago, when the greater part of the world was in a state of barbarism, or perhaps, uninhabited by man.
This mythology, or religion of fables, probably began in this way. Some poet, having heard of the great deeds of some warrior, made a poem about him, and not only told things which he did, but some things which he did not. He represented him as having power above other men, and as performing deeds which man, alone, could not do.
Some other poet, afterwards, took up the story, and added other wonderful tales about this great warrior. The story thus begun, would increase very fast; for it is very easy to tell great stories, and very easy for ignorant people to believe them too. Thus, in the course of two generations, the warrior became a being quite above mankind, and therefore a god.
When once such a system was begun, it was quite natural that it should increase. Every man of lively imagination could invent a god or a goddess, and the people were likely to adopt them, as fast as they could be manufactured. The priests and poets had both an interest in carrying on this business, for they either got a living by it, or gained freedom, fame and consequence among the people.
The Greeks, for many ages after they settled their country, which took place above three thousand seven hundred years ago, held constant communication with Egypt. To this country they went for education and for the arts. They not only imitated their buildings, furniture and curtains, but they adopted the Egyptian religion also. The Greeks were, however, a people of a great deal of genius. Beginning with Egyptian arts and customs, they modified or changed them, by the suggestions of their own taste and fancy. Thus, in time, they soon became superior, in many things, to the Egyptians, who were their schoolmasters.
The mythology of the Egyptians was soon changed, in the hands of the lively and inventive Greeks; and, indeed, it became so different, that it got the name at last of the Grecian mythology. A large part of the poetry and literature of the Greeks was filled with the achievements of their gods and goddesses. Men of the greatest genius, such as Homer, Hesiod, Anacreon, and others, wrote splendid pieces about the fabulous deities; and the people believed them all to be true.
According to these poets, Jupiter or Jove was the greatest of the gods. He was represented in the temples, as sitting on a throne, with the eagle, the most powerful of birds, at his side, as an emblem of his superiority. In his hand, he held thunderbolts, ready to hurl them forth upon his enemies. He was supposed to reside chiefly upon Olympus, a tall mountain of Greece, where he held councils with his deities.
The early history of Jupiter, as told by the poets, is droll enough. The ancients knew very little about astronomy or geography. So they divided the universe into three great kingdoms――the heavens, the earth, and the infernal regions. Titan, a powerful king, gave Saturn the kingdom of the earth, upon condition that he should kill all his male children. Saturn married a woman by the name of Ops. They had several children, but as soon as a boy was born, Saturn always ate him up.
At last little Jupiter was born――and Ops determined to save him. Accordingly she gave Saturn a stone, and told him it was the boy. Saturn devoured it――and did not discover the cheat. This is a hard story, but the Greeks believed it, and we must not laugh at them, for we see things quite as foolish in our day. The Mormons, who live in Illinois, believe that one Joe Smith, a vile and wicked man, found certain brass plates, written over with a revelation from God, which he alone could translate; and they think this translation, which they call the Book of Mormon, is as true as the Bible. There are certain deluded people, even among us, misled by one Miller, who imagines that the world is to be speedily destroyed. These things teach us how easy it is to be deceived in religious matters, and how careful we should be not to adopt new and singular notions upon this important subject.
Jupiter, having escaped his father’s jaws, was nursed by a goat. When he was a year old, he was a prodigious fellow. By this time the Titans had imprisoned his father, Saturn. So Jupiter made war upon them; he released his father, and conquered heaven, earth and hell. The heaven and earth he reserved to himself; the sea he gave to Neptune, and the lower regions to Pluto.
Jupiter was supposed to be immortal, and of boundless power; but he yet had the passions of a man. Many of his actions, as detailed by the Grecian poets, would be regarded by us as very base, selfish and wicked, and worthy of being punished by confinement in the penitentiary. Such is the character of the chief god, in a system of man’s invention. Does not this show us that the religion of the Bible, which reveals to us a God pure, holy, just and good, is of divine origin? Does it not also show us the danger of taking anything for religion, such as Mormonism and Millerism, and all other mythologies which come from man?
Apollo was the name of several gods, and this has led to some confusion. The great Apollo was the son of Jupiter and Latona. Jupiter’s regular wife was Juno, a fierce, proud goddess, who hated Latona, and sent a prodigious serpent, called Python, to torment her. In order to protect her, Jupiter raised up a beautiful island, called Delos, in the sea, to which Latona retired. Here Apollo was born, and when he grew up he became the god of the fine arts, music, poetry, painting, &c. His adventures, as detailed by the ancient Greek poets, are quite interesting.
[Illustration: _Vulcan._ _Pluto._]
Vulcan was the god of blacksmiths and all who wrought by fire in iron. He was the son of Jupiter and Juno, and appears to have been so hideous that his mother was ashamed of him. However, he seems to have loved his mother――for on one occasion, she having behaved ill, Jupiter tied her up. Vulcan, however, let her loose; for this he paid dearly, for his father, being greatly incensed, gave him a tremendous kick, which sent him out of heaven. He was no less than nine days and nights in tumbling down to earth; it is no wonder, then, that he broke his leg in falling upon the island of Lemnos, where he alighted. He was lame ever after.
Pluto was the king of hell, or the regions which lay beneath the earth. Here he reigned over his dark, dismal, and gloomy regions, peopled by the souls of departed men. Such was his savage character, and the horrid gloom of his dominions, that nobody would marry him. Still, as he wanted a wife, he determined to have one by hook or by crook. So one day, as he was driving along in his chariot, in the island of Sicily, he saw a beautiful goddess, named Proserpine, surrounded by her nymphs. Pluto drove up, seized the lovely deity, and carried her off. With his trident he opened a passage in the earth, down which he drove headlong, and having arrived at home, Proserpine became queen of hell.
Mercury was the messenger of the gods, especially of Jupiter. He was also the patron of travellers and shepherds, and had a kindness, I am sorry to say it, for thieves, pickpockets, and rogues of all kinds. It would seem that such a god could hardly be respectable; yet I believe that he was rather a favorite with the Greeks.
[Illustration: _Mars._ _Mercury._]
Mars was the god of war――a fierce and terrible god, indeed. Yet, strange to say, Venus, a handsome goddess, and wife of the old limping blacksmith, Vulcan, liked his company very well. Vulcan made a net of iron links, in which he caught Mars and Venus, and then called in all the gods to look at them! This seems to have made a great deal of fun.
[Illustration: _Hercules._ _Neptune._]
Hercules was a famous hero, who performed wonderful exploits, by his bodily strength alone.
Neptune was the god of the sea. His father, Saturn, ate him up, when a baby――but he was afterwards brought to life, and received his empire from his brother Jupiter.
Minerva was the goddess of wisdom. She was said to be born of Jupiter’s brain. A famous temple was erected to this goddess at Athens, by Pericles, about four hundred and fifty years before Christ. The chief circumstances of her history were beautifully represented in sculpture around this temple. The edifice still remains, though in ruins, a splendid monument of the genius of the ancient Greeks.
[Illustration: RUINS OF THE PARTHENON AT ATHENS.]
This is a very brief sketch of some of the deities belonging to the ancient Grecian mythology. For nearly two thousand years this prevailed in Greece, and it was afterwards adopted by the Romans, who added many gods to suit themselves. It became the Roman religion, and was inculcated through that vast empire. It was not till about three hundred and twenty years after Christ, that the Christian religion was adopted, as the religion of the Roman government.
[Illustration]
The Elephant.
The elephant, on first view, appears to be a large mass of unwieldy flesh, and on further examination, scarcely gives us any idea but of an animal of extreme stupidity, with small eyes, large pendulous ears, and an enormous trunk. He is generally about ten feet high, but does sometimes attain the astonishing height of twelve or fourteen feet. It is covered with a hide, without hair, which is hard and callous; it has heavy and misshapen legs, with round feet, and a tail with a tuft of hair at the end.
There are two species of the elephant, the Asiatic and African; they are much alike, though there is some difference in the teeth. In Africa, the people never train the elephant to any useful purposes, but in Asia this is quite common. In India, the animal is taught to carry burdens, and it performs a great deal of labor. We know that two thousand years ago elephants were used for war; this does not appear common now. They, however, carry large loads, and often, in hunting tigers, they are very expert.
Though extensively used, the elephant is not so domesticated as to breed in its state of confinement. All those that are employed by men, are taken when wild, and trained to their state of servitude. An elephant will carry three thousand pounds on his back, which is about six times as much as a horse will carry. In its natural state it is a mild and peaceable animal, and will always run away from a man. It seems to have no disposition to quarrel even with the brute creation; and as lions, tigers, and rhinoceroses, usually let the elephant alone, he lets them alone.
Though the elephant looks like a stupid creature, it is in fact very intelligent, and appears to have some faculties and sentiments almost human. It delights in music, and easily learns to beat time; it is fond of sweet odors, and often picks flowers, unites them into a nosegay, and seems delighted with the perfume; it has a delicacy of touch in its trunk, like that of the fingers, by which it can pick up a pin, tie and untie knots, lock and unlock doors, and even write with a pen; it learns to love its keeper, whom it caresses and obeys; it seems gratified with kindness, and distressed by abuse; it has even been known to die of grief, when, in some fit of madness, it has killed its conductor.
[Illustration]
The Lion.
This animal, on account of its fierceness and strength, called the king of beasts, is a native of both Asia and Africa. In countries where it lives, all other animals fly before it. Wherever man dwells, he wages war against it, and finally prevails. The lion is, therefore, not found where the country is thickly peopled. But in the vast solitudes of Africa it is common, and reigns monarch of all it surveys.
The lion is called cruel, but he only slays for the purpose of satisfying his hunger. The wolf, tiger, pole-cat, fox, will kill only for the sake of killing――even beyond what they can eat――whereas the lion, when his appetite is appeased, will lie down and let animals, upon which he usually feeds, pass by him unhurt.
There is something very noble in the aspect of a lion; his head is large, and his features have a serious and lofty expression. Though of the cat family, he has nothing of the sly, insinuating look of puss.
The strength of the lion is immense. It is said that he can break the skull of an ox by a single stroke of his paw. It is also said that a lion will carry off an ox that it has killed, dragging it over hills and ravines and across streams, and proceeding at long and rapid leaps with his burthen.
[Illustration]
The Gnoo.
This singular animal, which seems to be between the ox and antelope, was formerly regarded as a very rare and strange beast; but of late we have become better acquainted with it. Several of these creatures have been exhibited in the caravans, and beside, many English travellers have lately been in Africa, where they are found, and they have given us many descriptions of them.
They live in herds, like the bisons or buffaloes of the west, and sometimes hundreds or thousands of them are seen scattered over the plains. They are about as large as our common cattle at the age of two years; their color is dark brown; the head and breast are covered with long shaggy hair, and the horns bend forward at the base and backwards at the middle.
They are very timid, and generally fly from the approach of men. They seem to be put in a rage by the sight of scarlet. Mr. Pringle, a traveller in Africa, tells us some very amusing tales as to this. When he and his party met with troops of these creatures, they would hoist a red handkerchief on a pole. At this the gnoos would approach, tear up the ground, lash their sides with their tails, and show signs of violent rage, and then they would suddenly bound away to a distance.
A Swedish Girl.
Gustavus III., king of Sweden, passing one morning on horseback through a village in the neighborhood of his capital, observed a young peasant girl, of interesting appearance, drawing water at a fountain by the way-side. He went up to her, and asked her for a draught. Without delay, she lifted up her pitcher, and with artless simplicity put it to the lips of the monarch. Having satisfied his thirst, and courteously thanked his benefactress, he said:――
“My girl, if you would accompany me to Stockholm, I would endeavor to fix you in a more agreeable situation.”
“Ah, sir,” replied the girl, “I cannot accept your proposal. I am not anxious to rise above the state of life in which the providence of God has placed me; but even if I were, I could not for an instant hesitate.”
“And why?” rejoined the king, somewhat surprised.
“Because,” answered the girl, “my mother is poor and sickly, and has no one but me to assist or comfort her under many afflictions; and no earthly bribe could induce me to leave her, or to neglect the duties which affection requires from me.”
“Where is your mother?” asked the monarch.
“In that little cabin,” replied the girl, pointing to a wretched hovel beside her.
The king, whose feelings were interested in his companion, went in, and beheld, stretched on a bedstead, whose only covering was a little straw, an aged female, weighed down with years, and sinking under infirmities. Moved at the sight, the monarch addressed her: “I am sorry, my poor woman, to find you in so destitute and afflicted a condition.”
“Alas! sir,” said the venerable sufferer, “I should indeed be an object of pity, had I not that kind and attentive girl, who labors to support me, and omits nothing she thinks can afford me relief. May a gracious God remember it to her for good,” she added, wiping away a tear.
Never, perhaps, was Gustavus more sensible than at that moment of the pleasure of occupying an exalted station. The gratification arising from the consciousness of having it in his power to assist a fellow-creature, almost overpowered him; and putting a purse into the hand of the young villager, he could only say, “Continue to take care of your mother; I shall soon enable you to do so more effectually. Good-bye, my amiable girl; you may depend on the promise of your king.”
On his return to Stockholm, Gustavus settled a pension for life on the mother, with the reversion to her daughter at her death.
The Story of “Gander.”
Let us understand each other at the outset, gentle reader. GANDER, as you will suppose, was not a _goose_; but you will be surprised to hear that he was a “_horse_.” Why the creature got this name, I cannot tell, unless it was that he was _white_, and was always a leader among the horses. But, however the name originated, the following is a true story of him, as told to me by a gentleman of veracity.
In the year 1825, on a summer’s day, my friend left the vicinity of the Dunderberg mountain, in Rockland county, in the state of New York, with this and another horse, for a town on the Connecticut river. The other horse was _bay_, small, old, lean, and of a submissive aspect; while Gander, as I said before, was _white_, and, although somewhat advanced in years, was large, well-built, and quite proud in his bearing. These horses, together with a wagon, my friend had taken of a doubtful debtor, and at the above time left the vicinity of the Dunderberg, as I said, for his home, some hundred miles to the east.
For two reasons “Bay” was doomed to be the drudge on the journey. One was, that Gander and the wagon did not agree; the other was, that my friend chose to give him an easy journey, for the purpose of more readily converting him into cash on his reaching home. Gander, therefore, was tied behind.
“Matters being thus arranged,” my friend proceeded, “we commenced our journey; but we were destined not long thus to be linked together; for although Gander appeared to recognise his new master, he liked not the compulsory method I had taken to assure myself of his company. A single toss of his head was sufficient to break his halter, and he seemed to understand this snapping process to perfection; but, then, instead of running away, and thus securing for a time his freedom, he would stand still, quietly waiting for me to dismount and again attach him to his post.
“His late master had been abundant in commendation of his sagacity and other notable qualities, but assured me he would not be led. Not being inclined, however, to yield my belief without a trial, I had tied him, as above noticed. We had not proceeded far, however, before Gander gave intimation that _indeed_ ‘he would not be led.’ Snap went the halter, again. With much good nature, I again tied it, but with precisely the same result. At length, it was quite plain the animal was willing to acknowledge his allegiance to his new master, although he had not been consulted in the transfer; but his submission must be _voluntary_――he would not be led like a criminal, especially with a halter about his neck.
“The rope was soon useless; and now necessity became the mother of invention. I slipped the remnant of the halter from his head, jumped into my wagon, and drove on. This movement seemed quite satisfactory to the hitherto disobliged animal; and from his future conduct, it was evident he had obtained his wishes. Immediately he came to the side of the vehicle;――afterwards he chose ‘Bay,’ for a time, as his companion; and thus, side by side, and cheek-by-jowl, with either drudge or master, he jogged on for an hour or two. Finally, however, he fell back to the rear of the wagon, and, singular as it may appear, he kept this spot to the end of his journey, with, perhaps, a single exception, which I shall by-and-by mention; excepting, also, that occasionally he turned upon the road-side, while ascending a hill, to crop a tuft of green grass. At such times, if for a moment he forgot his master till he had disappeared, in a few minutes more his shrill voice was heard, and he recovered his post behind, with all expedition.
“On the morning of the second day, we left Newburgh, and crossing the Hudson at Poughkeepsie, directed our course to Litchfield, in Connecticut. I had not travelled fast, however, and it was quite dusk, when I arrived at the foot of Mount Tom, within eight or ten miles of the end of my journey for the day. I had observed a few heavy clouds in the west, and now these were approaching and increasing with so great rapidity, that I had scarce a hope of escaping the impending storm. I was entirely unacquainted with the road over the mountain, but it was a long distance to any shelter which I had passed. I determined, therefore, to push forward.
“Had ‘Bay’ possessed my fears, I should have had some hope of escaping from the storm; but he was, of the two, the greater philosopher. The distant thunder had no terrors for him; besides, it was an up-hill journey, and this, instead of increasing his energy, seemed to be a good reason for abating his exertions. Consequently, before we had gained half the distance to the summit of the mountain, darkness was upon us; ominous drops of rain were beginning to fall, and the thunder was rolling overhead.
“In this dilemma, although sometimes aided by a flash of lightning, my situation became almost appalling. However, when it was impossible to see the road, I left my wagon, and, after feeling and ascertaining the way a few rods, I managed to guide my horse a short distance. This plan I had repeated several times, and was at the last returning to start again, when Gander, whom before I had scarcely thought of for an hour, advanced from his post, and planted himself immediately in front of ‘Bay.’ This extraordinary movement of the animal, (for he had only once before taken precedence on our journey,) was so very singular, that it at once occurred to me he had some good motive for it. His color was _white_; did his sagacity teach him that ‘Bay’ could see _him_, if not the road? Was his sight more keen than my own, and did he discover it? Did his instinct teach him that his color might render him conspicuous, even in darkness, so that we could follow him? Can this be called instinct, or was it _reason_? Let it be called by whatever name it may, I had before heard of the sagacity of the horse, but I was now to witness it.
“I again seated myself in my wagon, by which time the rain fell in torrents. Gander was not discoverable from my seat when we started, but I drove on. ‘Bay’ now showed less reluctance, and, encouraged by his pioneer, moved forward more rapidly; we soon gained the mountain-top, and the frequent flashes of lightning showed Gander still in his new position, a foot or two in advance of Bay, and in the very centre of the road. Soon after our descent of the mountain commenced, it became so light, that I could just discern my leader; and thus we jogged on for some time, till at length a light was visible in the distance. I had scarcely discovered it, when a shrill neigh from Gander announced his pleasure at the prospect. He guided me safely to it, and to the door of an inn, as it proved, in Bradleyville. I need hardly add, that Gander received, not only the hearty caresses of his master, but an extra quantity of delicacies for his supper, good attendance, and a bundle or two of straw for his bed. He should have had a mattress, had he preferred it.”
The Dog of Montargis.
There is in France a castle by the name of Montargis. In the hall of this castle there is a sculpture which represents a dog fighting with a champion. The story connected with this sculpture is as follows:――
Aubri de Mondidier, a gentleman of family and fortune, travelling alone through the Forest of Bondi, was murdered, and buried under a tree. His dog, an English blood-hound, would not quit his master’s grave for several days; till, at length, compelled by hunger, he proceeded to the house of an intimate friend of the unfortunate Aubri’s, at Paris, and by his melancholy howling, seemed desirous of expressing the loss they had both sustained. He repeated his cries, ran to the door, looked back to see if any one followed him, returned to his master’s friend, pulled him by the sleeve, and with dumb eloquence entreated him to go with him.
The singularity of all these actions of the dog, added to the circumstance of his coming there without his master, whose faithful companion he had always been, prompted the company to follow the animal, who conducted them to a tree, where he renewed his howl, scratching the earth with his feet, and significantly entreating them to search that particular spot. Accordingly, on digging, the body of the unfortunate Aubri was found.
Some time after, the dog accidentally met the assassin, who is styled, by the historians, Chevalier Macaire; when, instantly seizing him by the throat, he was with great difficulty compelled to quit his prey. In short, whenever the dog saw the Chevalier, he continued to pursue and attack him with equal fury. Such obstinate virulence in the animal, confined only to Macaire, appeared very extraordinary; especially to those who at once recollected the dog’s remarkable attachment to his master, and several instances in which Macaire’s envy and hatred to Aubri de Mondidier had been conspicuous.
Additional circumstances created suspicion; and at length the affair reached the royal ear. The king, Louis VIII., accordingly sent for the dog, who appeared extremely gentle, till he perceived Macaire in the midst of several noblemen, when he ran fiercely towards him, growling, and attacking him as usual.
The king, struck with these circumstantial evidences against Macaire, determined to refer the decision to the chance of battle; in other words, he gave orders for a combat between the Chevalier and the dog. The lists were appointed in the Isle of Notre Dame, then an unenclosed, uninhabited place, and Macaire was allowed for his weapon a great cudgel.
An empty cask was given to the dog as a place of retreat, to enable him to recover breath. Everything being prepared, the dog no sooner found himself at liberty, than he ran round his adversary, avoiding his blows, and menacing him on every side, till his strength was exhausted; then, springing forward, he griped him by the throat, threw him on the ground, and obliged him to confess his guilt, in the presence of the king and the whole court. In consequence of this, the Chevalier, after a few days, was convicted upon his own acknowledgment, and beheaded on a scaffold in the Isle of Notre Dame.
Natural Lamps.
The queen beetle is about one inch and a quarter in length, and carries by her side, just about her waist, two brilliant lamps, which she lights up at pleasure, with the solar phosphorus furnished her by nature. These little lamps do not flash and glimmer like those of the fire-fly, but give as steady a light as that produced by a gas-burner, exhibiting two perfect spheres, as large as a minute pearl. These are so powerful that they will afford a person light enough to read print by them.
On carrying this insect into a dark closet in the daytime, no light is emitted at first, but she quickly illuminates her lamps, and immediately extinguishes them, on being brought again into the light. But language cannot sufficiently express the beauty and sublimity of these lucid orbs in miniature, with which nature has endowed the queen of the insect kingdom.
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A mind occupied becomes fortified against the ills of life and is braced for any emergency. Children amused by reading and study, are of course considerate and more easily governed.
LITTLE LEAVES FOR LITTLE READERS.
[Illustration]
The School-Ma’am.
In one of his little books, Peter Parley has told us how Aunt Delight taught him his letters; and I believe that I have given some account of the early lessons that I, Robert Merry, received from Miss Sally St. John.
In old times, children were generally taught their a-b-c, by some good old woman, who was called the “School-ma’am.” Above is a picture of one of these dames, giving a first lesson to a child. How hard the little fellow tries to say his letters! A man laying stone wall, does not make a greater effort.
I have told my readers of some of the pranks of the friend and playmate of my early days, Bill Keeler; but there is one which I have not yet told. It was as follows:――
You should know that Sally St. John, the school-ma’am, having no husband, made a great pet of her cat. This was named Nip, and, strange to say, he used regularly to go with her to school.
Many a child had a “box with five nails in it,” for playing some trick upon Nip, but this was especially the case with Bill. He was always getting into some trouble on account of the cat.
Now Bill had a great love for gunpowder; and of all things, he delighted in what is called a _witch-quill_. This is made of a quill, filled with layers of wet and dry powder: when set on fire, the quill goes jumping about, hither and thither, all the time spouting forth a stream of fire.
On one occasion he carried one of these to school, and when Aunt Sally’s back was turned, he gave it a toss into the fire. In an instant the quill was lighted, and, starting from the fire-place, darted directly under the school mistress’s chair. Pop――fizz! pop――fizz! it went.
Now it chanced that Nip was under Aunt Sally’s chair at that very moment. He was fast asleep, when the wicked witch-quill popped in, taking its station exactly under his nose. Never was there such horror, as appeared in Nip’s countenance. He stuck up his back, drew his tail out at full length, set apart his jaws, and with glaring eyes gazed at the terrible monster.
The comet that has lately been seen in the sky, with a tail ninety millions of miles in length, never scared any poor Millerite half so much as did Bill Keeler’s witch-quill, Aunt Sally’s cat. Nip didn’t know at all what to make of it. He had seen squirrels with long tails,――rats, moles, bats, owls, and other strange things,――but never, in all his days, had he beheld anything that spouted forth fire――real fire――before.
After gazing at the witch a few seconds, Nip mustered all his courage, spit at it, and gave it a thump with his paw. Fizz――pop! went the quill! Nip’s courage was exhausted――and he ran away with all his might. Strange to say, at that moment the quill started, and shot along the floor, in the exact direction puss had taken.
It stopped, however, about the middle of the school-room floor, and then it began to whirl round, popping, spinning, and fizzing, in a most wonderful style. “What on airth is that?” said Aunt Sally. “Oh dear!” “Oh dear!” “Oh dear!” said a dozen children at once.
“Oh! it’s Bill Keeler! it’s Bill Keeler!” said the school mistress――knowing by instinct where all mischief came from. “Oh dear, I’m shot! I’m popped! I’m fizzed! I’m bewitched! Oh! Bill, Bill, you’ll be the death of me!”
All this time, the wicked witch-quill was spinning and spouting about, in the middle of the floor. The children shrieked, and Bill Keeler laughed as if his sides would split. At last, the witch-quill, with a dying effort, hissed along the floor, and went straight at Nip, who had got beneath a writing bench. With a horrid yell, the cat fled, and leaping upon Aunt Sally’s shoulder, hung on to the flesh with all her claws. The good woman shook and pulled, but Nip held the tighter for all that; and Bill, seeing that things were getting serious, took his hat and ran.
Inquisitive Jack.