A visit to the elephant
Date: 2026-04-24T00:00:00+00:00

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Title: A visit to the elephant

Author: Mary Ann Hedge

Release date: April 24, 2026 [eBook #78540]

Language: English

Original publication: London: Baldwin, Cradock, and Joy; Harvey and Darton; and Swinborne and Walter, 1825

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/78540

Credits: The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by the Toronto Public Library)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VISIT TO THE ELEPHANT ***

A
VISIT
TO THE
ELEPHANT.

“O Lord, how manifold are thy works, in wisdom hast thou made them all!”

BY THE AUTHOR OF
“Samboe,” “Twilight Hours Improved,” &c.

LONDON:
BALDWIN, CRADOCK, AND JOY; HARVEY
AND DARTON; AND SWINBORNE
AND WALTER.

1825.

Swinborne and Walter, Printers,
Colchester.

And in a moment the ever-welcome Visitant was seen driving up the avenue.

Page 29.

A VISIT, &c.

CHAP. I.

Nothing can be more natural than the attachment and regard to which the faithful services of our domestics are entitled; it is a beautiful link in the chain of family charities, and can only be severed by pride, by folly, or by vice.

It was one of those lovely mornings which frequently mark the declining autumn in our variable climate, when summer as it were seems to linger amid the decaying vestiges of her glory, and the deep verdure of the vales affords a strong and lively contrast to the seared leaves, falling in quick succession from the branches so late affording refreshing shade to the traveller; when the stormy winds which had howled through the quick-changing woods, swept over the fields divested of their waving riches, and whose violence had awakened the sympathy of the compassionate for the unfortunates exposed to elemental strife, had sunk into the profoundest repose, and the fleecy clouds seemed still and motionless as a flock of sheep slumbering in peace under the shepherd’s care: every thing in nature breathing tranquillity, and disposing the mind to gentleness and peace. It was on such a morning after nearly a sleepless night, Mr. Elmer entered his breakfast-room, having taken his usual morning’s stroll on the gravel terrace upon which the windows opened; he had scarcely entered, before his old and faithful domestic attended with the breakfast equipage, and having modestly and respectfully inquired how he had passed the boisterous night, put the newspaper with other papers upon the table, keeping one in his hand. “And what is that long paper, Alan?” inquired Mr. Elmer; “why this your honour was given me as I went for the rolls; it is an account of the wild beasts that are arrived at C——” and he gave the paper to his master, who saw that it contained the figures and description of an itinerant menagerie then exhibiting at the town, in the immediate vicinity of which he resided.

“Dear, your honour,” said Alan, “sure Master Harry and Miss Joanna, and may be my little favorite Miss Ellen, would like to see the elephant; I really should, to see if it is as fine a one as those we used to admire in India: you remember that fine beast at Calcutta in particular your honour, as sensible as any Christian?” “Yes I do indeed, Alan;” replied Mr. Elmer, with his accustomed affability; “and I think with you, that it will be a great treat to the dear children, to see an animal which even in its confined state, so greatly displays the wisdom of the Creator; they cannot be too early acquainted with such proofs of his greatness and goodness. Tell William to get the phaeton ready, and we will go for them this lovely morning; you must also be our escort to the elephant, Alan; for (he added with an arch smile), your old master is almost in his second childhood, and there is no telling what effect the sight of the huge elephant may have upon him.” “Bless your honour, when you talk so, you make me feel so queer; but life and death are in the power of a good God, and you have taught me my dear master, to submit every thing to his will: I hope it is no sin to pray that as we have lived together, so we may die together.” A tear of affection swelled in the eye of the old domestic, as he regarded with a look of grateful veneration his beloved master, whose fine mild and placid features, indicated a soul at peace with itself, and in the habitual exercise of the best feelings of the heart. “Well my good fellow, pour out my coffee, and let us lose no time in fetching the young ones to this great sight: tell Mary they will dine here, therefore not to forget the pudding.” Alan hastened to obey; and while he is making his preparations, and his master takes his coffee, we will introduce them a little more particularly to our young friends.

CHAP. II.

“From the same bosom drew the vital stream,

Through life’s eventful scenes together passed.”

The father of Mr. Elmer held a considerable official situation in India, and almost immediately succeeding the birth of this his only child, was obliged to sail for Bengal, taking with him his young wife, having prevailed upon her to leave her infant under the care of a young woman who had been a favorite attendant, and was respectably married to a farmer in her native village, bordering on the Highlands of Scotland. Mrs Thomson, sincerely attached to her dear young mistress, received her infant with a mother’s tenderness, and having recently given birth to her own first-born, she placed the little Henry by his side, and faithfully promised his weeping mother, that he should never miss her fostering love at least: and she hoped that in a year or two she should return him a “bonny lad to her dear lady.” But her anticipations were never verified, poor Henry never more was pressed to his mother’s bosom, or caused the thrill of parental pride to swell a father’s breast, for in returning to England after an absence of five years, the ship was wrecked and all on board perished.

The guardians of the orphan however, permitted him to remain during the first happy years of childhood with his foster parents, and he shared to the full their affectionate attention with their own son Alan, while the boys themselves grew up in every respect as brothers; although Mrs. Thomson, who possessed no small share of the sound sense which distinguishes the inferior classes of her country, always impressed upon the mind of her son, that while he loved Henry as a brother, he must also ever recollect that he was his superior, and as such entitled to his respect and duty. “I shall be happy my dear Alan,” she would say, “if when he grows up to manhood, that he will take you into his service, for surely it will be a service of love; and unless his disposition greatly changes, you must, my dear boy, be happy with him.” Alan fully concurred in this secret wish of his mother, and by its frequent repetition, was accustomed habitually to regard Henry as his master, and to pay him a sort of intuitive deference, which was not in the remotest degree allied to servility, but flowed from that modest humility which ennobles the heart that cherishes it; and which rendered Alan as much respected as beloved by his master, and all who knew him under all the various changes and situations of his succeeding life. Perhaps the first sorrow either of these boys experienced, was at the period when Henry was to quit the cottage of his foster parents, to be placed at a public seminary for education, and his beloved companion Alan was not to accompany him; for hitherto their studies had proceeded together under the tuition of the village preceptor: and they had been distinguished by him as diligent and clever boys. “And why may not Alan go with me?” he artlessly inquired of his guardian. “Because Alan is a farmer’s son my dear, and you are a gentleman’s son; education necessary for him may be obtained in his native village, but you must go where you will form connections suitable to your birth, and be taught many things requisite to your advancement in the world.” “But Alan learns quite as quick as me, and indeed we both acquire our lessons easier when we study together.” “Perhaps so, but you will have numerous companions; beside my dear boy, much as your wish proves your affection, assure yourself it would be a very false species of it to remove Alan from his sphere, in fulfilling the peculiar duties of which, he may live happy and respected, and in which you may greatly contribute to render him so; but in removing him from his early connections, or in elevating him above them, you hazard his humility, consequently his virtue and his happiness; and by refining his mind, you may destroy his relish for the simple pleasures of his present situation, without having it in your power to substitute any to supply its place; hence, you may in the hope of increasing his happiness, be in danger of producing discontent.” Henry’s reason could not but concur in these remarks of his guardian, while his feelings revolted from the separation. It was however useless to contend against necessity; and in a few days, (after mutual assurances of remembrance, correspondence, &c.) the boys bid adieu to each other. Much might be said upon the mutual feelings of these affectionate lads; but it is wisely ordained that the strong emotions of youth should quickly give place to new excitements, and fresh objects of curiosity; it will therefore only be necessary to say, that although each felt the deprivation of the other’s society, each became resigned to the necessity, each open to the enjoyments of their peculiar situation: their mutual parting promises were religiously kept, Henry frequently wrote to his humble friend the incidents of his school life,—the progress of his studies; and Alan recounted the village anecdotes, the fidelity and sagacity of Ryno, Henry’s favorite spaniel, the fresh haunts of the mountains he had discovered, his success in fishing, &c. Henry acquired no pride to cloud the pleasure with which he remembered the simple cottage and its dear inhabitants; Alan never lost sight of his humility and respect in corresponding with his beloved young master, while it expanded his ideas and enlarged his views beyond what they could otherwise have attained.

Thus years passed on, during which but one summer vacation had been passed in what Henry emphatically called “the happy valley;” a thousand plans were then formed for the future by the enterprising boys; all tending to a renewal of companionship: and at a time when they least expected, their most sanguine wishes were fulfilled. Henry had nearly attained his seventeenth year, when this unexpected wish promised accomplishment. It is thus recounted in an extract of a letter to Alan.

“At length, Alan, my future destination seems determined upon, and I hasten to inform you of the proposed plan, as you, my lad, are somewhat interested in it. Now I think I see those blue veins on your temples swell, and your eyes flash fire while you repeat the last words. Well then to the point, through the interest of Mr. H. I shall, in the spring, ‘if it pleases God,’ as our dear pious mother would say, sail for India, being appointed to a situation in the presidency, to which my youth would have been an obstacle, had it not been obviated by my facility in sketching objects from nature, (acquired, I verily believe, in measuring distances among our rocks and mountains, Alan, and peering after you on the crags), and also my wonderful acquisition of the oriental languages; I suppose rendered easy to me by the flexibility of the organs, produced by the early habit of mimicing the mountain echoes, and the cries of the sea birds to deceive you, my good boy. Be this as it may, I find I have astonished the examiners, and am in consequence, strongly recommended to the governor-general, as competent to the honourable and confidential situation in question. ‘But how’ I think I hear you say ‘can this so much interest me, except indeed as it removes my friend far far from me?’ Now attend, and I will tell you—I am not only allowed, but required to take a personal attendant with me to the seat of eastern parade and luxurious ease—the presidency, and if Alan Thomson can make up his mind to quit the happy valley, and all that constitutes it such, where can Henry Elmer choose better, than to have him for his personal attendant?” It is almost unnecessary to say, that Alan joyfully acceded to the plan, and although his mother “wept sore” at parting, yet she could not but acknowledge that her wishes were fulfilled. Accordingly, loaded with her blessings, and the good wishes of all who knew him, he joined Henry in London, and they sailed together for India.

It would be no unamusing task, to detail the events which occurred to these constant companions while in Asia; we may perhaps one day recount their various adventures, one only, in which a young officer, an intimate friend of Henry Elmer, was a principal actor, and he with Alan spectators, we will detail, as it illustrates the dangers to which the orientals are exposed by the wild animals of these torrid regions. “During the march of a detachment, conducting some official servants of the presidency to a place appointed, on their arrival at a village, the zumudar made known to the party, that a tiger had taken up his quarters in the vicinity, and besides committing terrible ravages among the cattle, he had killed several villagers, and had on that morning wounded the son of the zumudar, who was with great difficulty rescued from death. Animated by this account, all the young men of the party, both military and civil, determined to hunt this terrific animal, and mounting their elephants proceeded to dislodge him from his haunts. They soon discovered him. The elephant of the young officer alluded to being rather in the advance, was attacked by the tiger; another elephant, which was near, turned round in apparent dismay and ran off to some distance. The tiger had sprung upon the shoulder of the first elephant, and the rider, with admirable presence of mind, fired at him in this situation, and he fell. Imagining however (too hastily) that he had disabled him, he rashly descended from the elephant, for the purpose of despatching the tiger with his pistols, but in alighting from the ponderous animal, he unfortunately came in contact with the tiger, which with the instinctive wiliness that distinguishes the species, had only couched for a second spring, and now catching hold of the unfortunate, youth, dragged him some distance along the ground; his presence of mind, however, did not forsake him, but having succeeded in drawing a pistol from his belt, he fired it, and lodged the ball in the body of the tiger; the enraged and furious beast shook him violently without quitting his hold, and made off to the thickest part of the jungle with his prey. In the struggle to disengage himself from the furious beast, the officer almost instinctively caught hold of him by both his ears, and succeeded, after a desperate conflict, in throwing the animal upon his side, when he again availed himself of this momentary release to draw forth his remaining pistol, and presenting the muzzle close to the breast of the tiger, shot him through the heart. He then returned to his elephant, which he actually mounted without assistance—so great is the influence of the mind over the feelings of the body, declaring, afterwards, that he, at that moment, felt little or no pain from his wounds, although he had received no fewer than five-and-twenty, and many of them severe. He subsequently suffered much from the consequences of this desperate conflict—losing the motion of the knee, which was the principal seat of the injury. So desperate, so rapid, and so entire was this attack and conflict, that the other persons could only gaze and shudder, at the almost inevitable result; and when they found the unfortunate young man had escaped the fury of the tiger, and even killed him, they were almost struck dumb with admiration and astonishment.”

It will now be proper to resume our history, having we hope interested our young readers by our account of the worthy Mr. Elmer, and his faithful Alan Thomson, upon their first entrance upon the active duties of life, but from which, at the period of the commencement of our history, they had retired to a pleasant villa in the vicinity of a fine old town, in one of the eastern counties of England, in order to be near the only daughter of Mr. Elmer, married to a clergyman of the name of Monson, and residing at a beautiful village only three miles from the town of C——, and the villa of Mr. Elmer.—But the phaeton is at the door, and Alan mounted on his docile Jessy, to accompany his master; therefore, while they travel so pleasantly, we will have a peep at the rectory before their arrival.

CHAP. III.

“See the fond mother, and her offspring round,

Her soft soul melting with maternal love;

Some to her breast she clasps, and others prove

By kisses her affection. On the ground,
Her ready foot affords a seat for one,
Another smiling sits upon her knee;
By their desiring eyes, and actions free,

And lisping words their little wants are known:

To those she gives a smile, a frown to these,—

But all in love.”

The young and amiable Mrs. Monson fully realized this pleasing picture of a fond mother. On the morning which thus introduces her and her little family to our young readers, she had employed the valuable hours of its prime as usual, in the tender duties of the nursery and the school room; and the children having fulfilled their appointed tasks to her satisfaction, she readily yielded to the request of Harry and Joanna, the two eldest, for permission to amuse themselves on the lawn, upon which the sun shone gloriously; while she took the three younger to visit an old lady in the village, whose partiality to children, and her great kindness to them, made her a general favorite.

The storm of the preceding night had left ample evidences of its power, among the shrubs and flowers in the borders of the lawn; and the walks were covered with the leaves of which its violence had bereft some fine old elms and chesnuts, in an irregular sort of avenue, which formed the approach to the lawn; while those portions of the garden appropriated to the children, were of course, as well as every other, in the greatest disorder, and choked by the drifted leaves. Almost unable to find a single flower, Harry proposed that Joanna should be his horse and cart, to make-believe being gardener, and really to clear away the leaves from their little gardens. Joanna hesitated, but was at last persuaded by the entreaties of Harry, and his promise that she should be gardener in her turn. He accordingly, with not a little ingenuity, fastened an old basket to her back, and finding some list in the garden-house, soon harnessed her in good style, and quickly manufacturing his emblem of power and command—the whip, proceeded to load his cart with great energy, though, it must be confessed, rather too heavily for his vehicle, which was at the point of loosening from its fastenings, when the well-known sound of grandpapa’s phaeton, and the regular trot of his ponies, arrested the attention of the labourers, and in a moment, the ever-welcome visitant was seen driving up the avenue. Joanna struggled to free herself from the trammels, but in vain, they were too skilfully fastened for her ingenuity and impatience to loosen; and half in tears at the delay and obstruction, she petitioned “dear Harry” to free her. Harry, however, although equally desirous, found it not quite so easy as he expected, and Mr. Elmer had arrived at the gate before Joanna’s liberation was effected. “How now, my young despot,” exclaimed Mr. Elmer good humouredly, “what, exercising your power over the weak thus early?” “Oh grandpapa,” replied Harry, still busy in untying knots, “it is only make-believe,—Joanna was soon going to drive me about.” “Pray take this piece off my arm, Harry,” entreated Joanna, as she made her arm red in her attempt to slide from it a piece of rough list, tied with no gentle knot, and in the attempt pushing off her bonnet, and disclosing her animated countenance, glowing with exercise and impatience. Alan quickly however lent his assistance, and Harry dashing off his cap, and shaking his dark locks from the perspiration which burst from his forehead, declared that Joanna trotted as well as grandpapa’s ponies, and only wanted a little practice to be just the thing to get his hand in to drive them. “Upon my word, sir, you have appointed your sister to an honourable post; but as she seems to have been sufficiently practised this morning, what say you to a ride with me;—will you, my young Phaeton, condescend to be driven by your old grandfather?” “Dear grandpapa, you know what a treat it is always to me, and may not dear Joanna go too?” “Certainly, and Ellen too if she likes it; I am come for you to dine with me to-day; but these hands must be washed, jacket brushed, locks arranged, and stockings made tight, or it will certainly be thought I have picked up a gipsy, particularly if Joanna keeps her bonnet hanging behind her, as it now does.” “Oh! we will be ready in a minute, grandpapa; but, dear me, Ellen is gone out with mamma!” “Well, I will wait a little while for you all, for look here (spreading out the bill of the menagerie) I am going to place you all amongst these animals; you look a little like an ourang-outang, Harry, and Joanna reminded me when her arms were so pinioned, of the kangaroo with its short fore feet.” “Oh dear grandpapa, how droll you are,—but I declare there is an elephant, what is there a real one to be seen? and are you going to take us to see it? Oh how good you are. Joanna dear, you wont be afraid, will you?” “No, Harry, that I shall not, for I am sure grandpapa would not take us any where to hurt or frighten us; but I shall like very much to see an elephant; Mamma told me her beautiful fan was made of ivory,—so the elephant’s teeth are called.” “It is a very large animal, is it not grandpapa?” inquired Harry. “Yes, my dear, very large and very wonderful, as well as useful.” “I suppose it is taller than you, grandpapa?” “Rather,” replied Mr. Elmer, with a significant smile, amused at the artless estimate of Harry, and anticipating with pleasure the astonishment of the children, when they should behold the magnitude of the animal. While some further conversation passed, and the children were dressing for their jaunt, Mrs. Monson returned. Of course, an interchange of kisses, embraces, blessings, &c. took place; but at length Mr. Elmer placed himself, with gratified affection, in his little vehicle, with his juvenile companions, and they merrily proceeded on their way to C——, asking a thousand questions about what they were going to see. Having arrived at Rose Mount, they alighted, and proceeded on foot to C——. The amusement they enjoyed there, will be found recounted in the following chapter.

CHAP. IV.

“These are thy glorious works, Parent of good,

Almighty!——these declare

Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine!”

The cheerful activity of Alan Thomson, bearing his little favorite Ellen in his arms, one of her fat little arms encircling his neck; the mild and venerable demeanour of Mr. Elmer; and the engaging innocence of the children, each holding a hand of their indulgent grandpapa, seemed irresistibly to actuate the several individuals who formed the crowd surrounding the caravans composing the menagerie; for they readily gave way, that the little group might easily pass to the entrance, while the woman who took the admittance-money, exclaimed “God bless the sweet dears,” and in a tone of respect said to Mr. Elmer as he passed, “take care, Sir, I am afraid you will find the steps very slippery:” thanking her for the caution, he passed into the enclosure.

The first object that met the astonished view of the children, was the elephant. Its height was nearly eleven feet, appearing to their unpractised eyes, a moving mountain. Ellen, with a sensation of fearful surprise, clung to the arm of Alan, who feeling the pressure kissed her, and told her not to be afraid, for that great animal was as gentle as her own little pet lamb, and loved children dearly; “I have seen one,” he added, “that used to rock a little baby like your brother Charles to sleep in its cradle.” Ellen, thus encouraged, ventured to look at it again, and her fear began to subside; yet when she saw the animal, by the command of the keeper, lift a pail full of water from the ground with its proboscis, and pour it into its mouth as into a vessel, she was too much astonished to speak. “I see by its spotted skin this is a Ceylonese,” said Mr. Elmer to the keeper; “they are not so handsome as the white elephants, but they are larger and stronger, and with qualities I believe equally wonderful, and useful to man.” “Yes, your honour, this noble animal is from Ceylon [Note 1.]; it was given to a British officer by the king of Candy, and truly he was a royal present, for his mildness, sagacity, and docility are most wonderful. Poor fellow,” he added, caressing the elephant, “he not only obeys, but he anticipates all I would have him do, he understands all my signs, he never mistakes my voice, knows perfectly well when I am angry or pleased, listens to what I tell him with attention, and never fails to execute my commands.” “I readily believe it,” replied Mr. Elmer, “for such are the general characteristics of this valuable quadruped.” “Will not the young gentleman like to see how we ride and manage them,” inquired the man, evidently pleased with his affable and intelligent visitor. “Certainly, and the young ladies too,” said Mr. Elmer good temperedly, as he turned to three or four neatly dressed girls just entering the area.

The keeper then made a sign to the elephant (which might in a moment have annihilated the whole party by the exercise of the power with which Providence had invested him, had it not also with restraining wisdom, rendered it subservient to the will of man), when it folded its flexible proboscis gently but firmly round the body of the keeper, and lifted him upon his back; here he sat a few moments, and then removed to the animal’s neck with a little pointed iron rod, intended by pricking the ears of the elephant to guide and urge him on; but this was very seldom necessary, even generally speaking, as these sagacious animals are so docile and so much attached to their keepers that words and caresses are quite sufficient, seldom or ever being refractory unless insulted with improper or cruel chastisement; bending their knees for the accommodation of those who mount them, and moving steadily on with a gravity suitable to their immense bulk. “I should be rather afraid, grandpapa,” said Harry, “to ride upon an elephant, because he could so easily take me off with his trunk.” “Why indeed, my boy, were it not for the confidence which the docility and strong affection of these immense and powerful animals produce in those accustomed to attend and use them, the fear might be very just; but the admirable qualities they possess, effectually dissipate all apprehension in the breasts of those who have the care of them, so strong is the attachment they have for their cornacs or keepers, that there are instances in which they are stated to have died of sorrow, when, irritated by ill treatment, or other causes, they have in a paroxysm of rage killed their guide. These instances of ungovernable fury are very rare, nor do I remember to have myself felt any apprehensions, although I have taken many long journeys on noble elephants: one particularly I remember, whose sagacity, docility, and affection could not be exceeded; if I wished to stop to enjoy and sketch a beautiful prospect, he would remain immoveable until I wished to go forward. If I desired the ripe and delicious mangoes, growing out of the reach of myself or my attendants, he would select the most fruitful branch, and breaking it off with his trunk, offer it to the driver for the refreshment of myself and companions in the houdah, accepting any part we might give to himself with a respectful salam or salute, viz. by raising his trunk three times above his head in the mode of oriental obeisance, expressing at the same time his thankfulness by a murmuring noise. When a bough obstructed the houdah, he twisted his trunk around it, breaking it off with ease, even if of considerable magnitude, and not unfrequently gathering a leafy branch either to keep off the flies, or as a fan to agitate the air around him, by waving it with his trunk. When we had pitched our tents on any spot, he generally paid us a visit at the tent door during breakfast to procure sugar-candy, or fruit, and seemed delighted and cheered by the encomiums and caresses he deservedly met with; indeed no spaniel could be more innocently playful, or fonder of those who noticed him than this truly valuable and wonderful animal, who on particular occasions appeared even conscious of his exaltation above the brute creation.”

This anecdote seemed highly to interest all the visitants present, for they approached during the relation, nearer and nearer to the nice old gentleman who had travelled on the back of an elephant, seeming to regard him with nearly as much admiration and astonishment as they did the animal itself.

A decent man in the group, who appeared particularly struck with the account of Mr. Elmer, was not a little alarmed, however, when the elephant, reaching over the heads of several persons, put his proboscis to the pocket of the man, who afraid to move, looked with a terrified aspect to the keeper, but seemed unable to speak. “You probably, Sir, have fruit in your pocket,” observed the keeper, “which his quick and accurate sense of smell has discovered: do not be alarmed.” A word to the elephant caused him to remove his intrusive proboscis, and the man produced three or four apples, which he now (not however entirely divested of alarm) presented to the unceremonious animal, who took them mildly from his hand, making a low sort of murmur, as of satisfaction.

“They must eat a great deal, grandpapa;” said Joanna softly, as she watched the elephant eating the apples, “what do they eat?” “Their food is entirely vegetable, my dear; the young shoots of trees, different sorts of grain, and fruits of various kinds abounding in the East, from whence they come. Sometimes they do a great deal of mischief by breaking into the plantations, not only ravaging every thing they find, but by trampling the ground with their large and heavy feet: they generally also herd together in large numbers, marching in troops, the oldest leading the way, and the mothers taking the young ones firmly embraced in their trunks.” “But what do the poor elephants do, grandpapa, who are caught and shut up like this; they cannot have nice tender branches of trees to eat?” “When tamed and used for labour, my dear, they require a great deal of care, and a large quantity of food, and that of the best quality, with much rice, both raw and prepared. I once had one who to keep himself in full vigour, required daily a hundred pounds weight of this food, besides fresh herbage to cool him, for they are very subject to be overheated, and must, in those hot countries, be conducted to the water several times in the day for the purpose of bathing. It is curious to observe how they refresh themselves: sucking up the water in the trunk, they carry it to the mouth, drink a part of it, then elevating the trunk, allow the remainder to run over every part of their body.” “What is the quantity and quality of the food this elephant consumes?” inquired Mr. Elmer of the keeper. “He is usually, Sir, fed with hay and straw, but he generally seems to prefer the latter; the quantity he takes I cannot exactly ascertain, as he scatters much that is given him for food, and also eats a great deal of the straw with which he is littered. He eats with great avidity bread, boiled potatoes, and other vegetables; I allow him nine pails of water, given at three different times in the day. He is extremely fond of beer and all kinds of spirituous liquors.” “Yes,” replied Mr. Elmer, “I have seen them take arrack in the East Indies, and it is customary if they shew any repugnance to what may be exacted of them, for the cornac or conductor to promise them arrack or other spirit. It is very dangerous, however, to neglect any promise made to them; many have fallen victims to this indiscretion: for although nothing can provoke an elephant to hurt those who never injured him, yet he remembers, and never fails to revenge an offence, if he has power.” “He will not only do this, Sir,” said the keeper, “but he will obey the command of his cornac desirous of terrifying any one; when told to do so, he will run at the person with great apparent fury, and you may well believe effectually terrifies the object of his attack; but when he gives himself up for lost, the elephant stops short and does him no injury. Should the master chuse to affront any one, he tells his elephant, who quickly collects mud and water in his trunk, and squirts it upon the person pointed out to him.” The keeper now ordered the huge animal to lie down: it instantly obeyed, and the spectators were then invited to view the texture of his skin, to examine its ears, its trunk, and its tusks. They remarked the smallness of its eyes, the large and pendulous ears, the great head, the ponderous body, the arched back, the short and thick legs, and the extreme awkwardness of its appearance altogether; and were thence led to acknowledge, that it is very wrong to judge of the value of any thing by mere externals; but they were never weary in admiring the wise, the wonderful, the admirable structure of the proboscis, and agreed it was justly considered as one of the miracles of nature. They were directed by Mr. Elmer, to observe, that this wonderful organ is composed of an infinite number of flexible rings, and consists of a double tube with a somewhat flattened circular tip, furnished with a projecting point, which may not inaptly be called a finger, possessed of extreme sensibility, and with which it can take up the smallest object. The trunk, formed with this astonishing pliability, turns with ease in every direction, performing the office of a hand and arm: and such is its strength, that it is capable of breaking off long and large branches from the trees, and to lift immense weights.

“How thick and coarse the skin looks, grandpapa,” said Harry; “it looks as if nothing could penetrate it.” “Some parts of it are however, my dear, extremely sensible, and in those parts the poor animal feels the stinging of the flies so painfully that he not only employs the usual instinctive motions to free himself from their attacks, but it would seem the resources of that intelligence with which Providence has endowed him. He strikes them with his tail, his ears and his trunk: he also contracts his skin, and crushes his tormentors between the wrinkles. He drives them off with the branch of a tree, or bundles of long straw; and when all these ingenious artifices fail, he collects a great quantity of dust in his trunk, and covers all the most tender parts of his skin with it. He will thus dust himself several times in a day, and always sagaciously chuses the most effectual period; that is, after bathing.”

“Grandpapa,” whispered Joanna, “you said you travelled many journies on an elephant; you did not ride on the neck as the man did, surely?” “No, my dear, the driver, or cornac as he is styled, rides on the neck, the traveller beneath a sort of awning or tent placed on the back of the animal. The great princes of India allow five men and a boy to each elephant; the chief of these rides upon the neck to guide him, another sits upon the rump when engaged in war, the rest supply him with food and water, and perform the necessary services.

“Elephants indeed, either in peace or war, are more obedient to command than many rational beings. It is stated also, that upon an emergency they can travel two hundred miles in forty-eight hours, and will hold out for a month at the rate of forty or fifty miles a day, with cheerfulness and alacrity; but, my dear children, we must conclude our anecdotes of the elephant, at home I believe, we have made this fine animal a very long visit, and must therefore defer till another day the view of the others worthy attention.” Mr. Elmer having given the keeper a handsome gratuity for his patience and civility, the children thanking him also, they retired to make way for a number of persons, urged by the same laudable curiosity to see the stupendous animal.

CHAP. V.

“Curiosity is one of the strongest and the most lasting appetites implanted in us, and admiration one of our most pleasing passions.”

ADDISON.

The moment of egress from the menagerie seemed to unlock the generally loquacious tongue of little Ellen; a thousand questions were now asked of her good-tempered bearer, respecting the elephants; nor was Mr. Elmer uncalled upon to relate what he had seen of their wonderful qualities, during his residence in Hindostan, “We will now enjoy our walk, my dear children,” he observed, “and when we have dined I will endeavour to recollect all I have seen of the habits and usefulness of these sagacious animals.” “Well grandpapa,” said Harry, “I little thought when I got up this morning that I should see such a great creature, and be so very much entertained as I have been, I hope when I am a man I shall go to India and ride on the back of an elephant. I think I should make them very fond of me, for I would be sure to caress and encourage them, and never promise any thing I did not remember to perform.”

“That is (I suppose, my dear, you mean to say) you would remember to perform what you promised?” “Yes, grandpapa, that is what I mean; dear me! if the elephant could but speak, he would have expressed himself better than me, stupid boy. There, Joanna! look at that bullock in the field, we should call that a great creature, but it seems like a kitten now, or at most a dog compared to the elephant. I wonder what you and I looked like to the elephant: had he eat any thing except grain and fruit, I should have been afraid to have gone near him, he might have swallowed us up in a moment.” “Thus, my dear boy,” remarked Mr. Elmer, “we find every object in the creation impressed with the characters of infinite wisdom, beneficence, and perfection of its great author. Had the elephant been as ferocious as he is powerful, how dreadful the ravages he might commit, how fearful to be the subject of his violence; but with dispositions gentle, and of social habits, they range in solitary grandeur the vast solitudes of the torrid zone, and when ensnared by the power and art of man, to whom all are made subject, they are very soon tamed and rendered the most useful and effective servants of the being to whom supremacy is given.” “You will tell us after dinner, how they are caught and tamed, won’t you grandpapa;” asked Joanna. “Yes, my dear, certainly, I will describe to you what I myself was a witness of when I was very young, and I assure you I enjoyed the sport highly.”

They had now arrived at the villa, and were not sorry to find dinner ready for them; indeed, it had waited some time, so that Mary’s pudding was not quite so light as she wished. “Hey day!” said Mr. Elmer, as he cut it, “I question if the elephant could not have compounded a better pudding.” The children, however, were hungry, and the pudding quickly disappeared. “Hey day!” said grandpapa laughing, “I question if the elephant would have despatched it quicker.” The cloth removed, the little glasses filled, and papa’s and mamma’s health with dear grandpapa’s duly drank, and the fruit enjoyed, Harry sidled to his grandpapa—“I hope I shall not be too troublesome, but I long to hear how they catch the elephants.” “Ah so do I,” added Joanna, and Ellen (climbing on his knee) kissed his cheek as if to bribe him to comply with the wish of Harry.

“Ah, you are all irresistible petitioners,” said the kind old man, while a tear of genuine feeling trembled in his mild eye, and placing Harry between his knees, and a girl upon each of them, he prepared to gratify them. “I have told you, my children, that the elephants generally herd together; these herds consist of from forty to a hundred, and when discovered, about five hundred people are employed to surround them. They are driven by the means of fires placed on moveable pedestals, and by great noises to the spot where they are to be secured. This place consists of three different enclosures, communicating with each other by the means of narrow openings or gate-ways. When the elephants first arrive at the gates and palisadoes, great difficulty is found to make them enter; the leader’s sagacity always making him suspect some snare: but when once he is made to pass, the rest follow without hesitation. Reach me that sheet of paper, Alan,” said Mr. Elmer, as the old man entered the room. “There now, Harry, look here, there are the enclosures; (marking the paper with his pencil) now you see we have the elephants in this: do you understand?” “Oh yes, grandpapa.” “Well, they have passed this gate-way. Immediately fires are stationed round the greatest part of the enclosure, particularly at and near the entrances, to prevent the elephants from returning. A terrible shouting and noise is made by the hunters, beating of drums called tom-toms, firing blank cartridges, to urge the elephants into the next enclosure. They, thus finding themselves entrapped, scream dreadfully, and discovering no opening but the entrance into the next enclosure, they after traversing repeatedly their present situation, following their leader, at length enter the second enclosure, which is smaller than the first. The gate is instantly closed upon them, the same process of fires, shouts, &c. force them to pass into the last enclosure. Being now completely surrounded, and finding no outlet, the poor ensnared animals become desperate, frequently advancing furiously to the surrounding ditch to break down the palisade, screaming aloud, and swelling their trunks; but wherever they attempt an attack, they are repelled by the noise of the hunters and opposed by the fires. The ditch is then filled with water, and the fatigued elephants have very soon recourse to it in order to cool themselves, and to quench the thirst produced by their exertions and fury. Having continued in this situation for a few days, during which they are scantily fed from a scaffold on the outside, the door of an outlet about sixty feet long and very narrow is opened, and one of the elephants is induced to enter by having food thrown before it. When advanced far enough, the gate is closed upon him, when finding his retreat cut off, and that he cannot turn himself, he advances furiously, endeavouring to break the bars in front of him. He even rises up in his rage and leaps upon the bars with his fore feet; thus he continues his efforts to obtain liberty, until he becomes exhausted; ropes are then by degrees carefully passed round him, and he is secured. Sometimes instead of being enticed into the Roomee or narrow passage, they are taken by the aid of tamed elephants, who engage the attention of the wild ones, while they are secured by ropes. The elephants being thus ensnared are separated, and each placed under the care of a keeper appointed to attend and instruct him. This principal attendant, has three or four subordinate assistants, who supply the elephant with his food and water, until he is sufficiently tamed to feed himself. To effect this, a variety of methods are resorted to, soothing and caressing, sometimes threatenings and even goading with a long stick pointed with iron; but more generally the keeper flatters and coaxes him, scratching his head and trunk with a long bamboo split at one end into several pieces, and driving away the flies from his sores and bruises, produced by his desperate struggles for liberty. He also is very attentive to keep him cool, by squirting water frequently all over him, taking care to keep out of the reach of his trunk.

“In a few days he even advances cautiously to his side, speaks to him soothingly, pats him, and strokes him with his hand, and in a very little while he conciliates the immense animal, who knows him and obeys his commands. The keeper now becomes more familiar, ventures to mount him from the back of a tame elephant, and thus gradually increasing in intimacy, he is at last permitted to seat himself upon the neck, from which place he is to regulate and direct the motions of the subdued animal. While they are training in this manner the tame elephants lead the others out alternately for exercise, and likewise to ease their legs from the cords, with which they are tied, and which gall them dreadfully, unless frequently slackened and shifted.

“In about five or six weeks the elephant becomes obedient to his keeper, his fetters are then removed by degrees, and generally in about six months he suffers himself to be conducted from one place to another. In some parts of the East these huge animals are taken by means of pitfalls. Through the forest several paths are cut, in these are dug deep and large holes, which are carefully concealed by being covered over with branches and loose earth. The elephants in passing over, of course fall into the pit, the hunters secure them while in this helpless state, and dragging them out, tame them in the following manner. The elephant is placed between two tame ones; they are surrounded by men, each holding a pike with a lighted torch at the end of it, who talk to the animal and call out to him as they offer him meat, ‘take it, take it, take it.’

“The wild elephants refusing obedience, signs are made to the tame ones to beat him, which they immediately do by giving him desperate blows on the head with their trunk, and if the poor beast offers any resistance, the blows are repeated till exhausted he at length is rendered obedient, and appears to become perfectly reconciled to his fate. It is worthy of observation, that although this noble animal uses his utmost force to disengage himself when ensnared, and would certainly kill any one coming within his reach, yet he seldom or never attempts to hurt those tame elephants that have aided in ensnaring him; but on the contrary, seems as often as they are brought near, in order to adjust his harnessing, or move or slacken the ropes that gall him, to be pleased, soothed, and consoled by them, as it were, for the loss of his liberty.”

“Thank you grandpapa,” said the gratified Harry, “I shall certainly never forget how the elephant is snared, but I think I am not ambitious to be an elephant hunter.” “You would not then like to be an Abyssinian elephant hunter?” “Why, grandpapa?” “Because of the great danger and skill required.” “Did you ever see them, grandpapa?” “No, my dear, but an enterprising traveller has given us an account of the mode in very lively colouring.” “Perhaps you can remember it so as to tell us, dear grandpapa?” “I will try, my boy.—Mr. Bruce tells us that the persons employed in this dangerous service live constantly in the woods, subsisting upon the flesh of the animals they kill. They are exceedingly thin, light, and agile, both on foot and on horse-back. They are called Agageers, a name derived from the one descriptive of their mode of destroying the great animals, such as the elephant and rhinoceros; Agar signifying to hough or hamstring with a sharp weapon, or, more properly, cutting the tendon of the heel. To effect this, two men quite naked, to prevent their being caught by the trees and bushes, in making their escape from their watchful enemy, get on horse-back. One of them sits on the back of the horse, sometimes with a saddle, sometimes without one: with only a short stick in one hand, carefully managing the bridle with the other: behind him sits his companion, armed only with a broadsword——but hold, I recollect I have a drawing of the group. Harry boy, ring the bell, Alan shall bring my port-feuille.” “Ah, that will be delightful Harry,” exclaimed Joanna, who had a fine taste for drawing and delighted to look at them. Alan appeared, received his directions where to find the port-feuille, and in a few minutes it was opened before the delighted children; indeed its contents were well calculated to gratify the most refined taste, and to excite the admiration of the practised delineator of nature’s beauties and wonders.

The descriptive drawing of the Agageers and elephant was soon found. “Here, Harry,” said Mr. Elmer, as pleased as his juvenile companions, “here they are. The left hand of his Agageer is employed you see, in grasping the sword by the handle; about a foot or fourteen inches of the blade of which is covered with whipcord. This part he takes in his right hand without any danger of being hurt by it, and though the edges of the lower part of the sword are as sharp as a razor, he carries it without a scabbard.

“As soon as an elephant is found feeding as here delineated, the horseman rides before him as near his face as possible, or if he tries to escape, crosses him in all directions, calling out, I am such a one, and such a one, this is my horse, that has such a name, I killed your father in such a place, and your grandfather in such another place, and I am now come to kill you, who are nothing in comparison with them. This nonsense he thinks the elephant perfectly understands; who irritated at hearing the noise so immediately before him, attempts to seize him by his trunk.” “Oh, grandpapa, how frightful!” exclaimed Joanna involuntarily. Mr. Elmer smiled, kissed her forehead, and proceeded: “the elephant intent upon this, follows the horse every where, turning round and round with him, neglecting to make his escape by going straight forward, in which consists his only safety. After having made him thus turn several times in pursuit of the horse, the horseman rides up close beside of him, and drops his companion just behind on the off side; and while he engages the elephant’s attention upon the horse, the other behind him gives him a drawn stroke just above the heel, into what in man is called the tendon of Achilles. This is the critical moment—don’t your heart beat, Harry?” “That it does, grandpapa, pit a pat, pit a pat.” “Well, the horseman instantly wheels round, again takes his companion up behind him, and rides off full speed after the rest of the herd, if they have started more than one; and sometimes an expert Agageer will kill three out of one herd. If the sword is good and the man not too timid, the tendon is generally separated entirely, and if not quite cut through, is so far divided that the animal from the stress his weight puts upon it, breaks the remaining part asunder.” “Ah! poor thing, how much it must suffer,” said Joanna. “It must, indeed, my dear, for in either case he remains quite incapable of advancing a step, till the horseman returning, or his companions coming up, he is pierced through with javelins and lances, by which he falls to the ground, and expires from loss of blood. Here is another drawing descriptive of this closing scene. The elephant being thus slain, they cut his flesh into slips or thongs, and hang them upon the branches of the trees till they become dry, without salt, and then lay them by for their provision in the rainy season.” “Dear me, grandpapa, what bad food they must be. I am sure I must be very hungry indeed to relish such a strange dish.” “Yes, my boy, hunger is admirable sauce. I don’t know but it would make you even relish very highly the pretty dirty list bridle you so cleverly put on Joanna this morning.” “Oh, grandpapa! no, I never could eat that to be sure, it was so rough it would choke me.” “Well, well, I hope you will never be reduced to such necessity; what say you, my pet?” (to Ellen.) “No, grandpa, I like little chicken, not dried elephant for my dinner.” “That is very lucky, my dear, because we could not conveniently have the one, and my poultry-yard is very well filled. Yet, my dear, we are informed by a lively traveller, that the feet of the elephant roasted are a delicious morsel, as well as the shins; and I can readily imagine it, from the pure nature of their food, and the extreme cleanliness of their habits.”

“Have you any more drawings of the elephant, grandpapa?” inquired Joanna. “I dare say there are among these, my dear; we will look through them.” “O yes, here is one,” resumed the eager and delighted girl. “Do not touch, Ellen; you know mamma always tells you, little girls should not touch any thing that is shown them, especially such beautiful drawings.” Ellen withdrew her finger at this remonstrance of her sister, and quietly looked on. “I remember the occasion upon which this drawing was taken,” said Mr. Elmer. “Elephants are kept in many parts of India more for show and grandeur than use, although I shall relate to you many instances in which I have seen them eminently useful. Their keeping is attended with very great expense, as they devour a vast quantity of the best provisions, and are sometimes regaled with a plentiful repast of cinnamon, of which they are exceedingly fond. When the King of Pegu walks abroad, he is preceded by four stately white elephants, adorned with sumptuous trappings, covered with precious stones, and ornaments of gold; and when he gives audience, these four elephants are presented to him, who do him reverence by raising their trunks, and uttering three distinct cries, while kneeling before him. This ceremony ended, they are conducted back to their apartment, where each is fed from large golden vessels. They are also washed twice a day with water taken from a silver reservoir. During the time of their being thus refreshed and adorned, they are under a canopy supported by eight slaves, in order to defend them from the heat of the sun. In being led to the vessels containing their food and water, they are preceded by trumpets, and march with great majesty, as if feeling the elevation conferred upon them by this pomp. The king of Siam has also 1000 elephants attached to his army.

“This drawing, my children, represents the great mogul, upon an occasion of his appearing in public, when I had an opportunity of seeing him. No pomp, magnificence, or luxury can exceed, or indeed be comparable to the ostentatious brilliancy of this potentate on such occasions. He sits, as you may perceive by this sketch, upon a throne of gold, glittering with precious stones: the throne and monarch borne on the back of a noble elephant, who seems conscious of his burden. The elevation gives the emperor an air of grandeur, which is extremely impressive to the beholders, above whom he is so highly exalted in situation as well as rank; nor can we fail to regard with an eye of indulgence that despotic pride which is both excited and fostered by the adulation paid to a mortal. It requires something more than mortal strength, to resist the fascinations of power and the flatteries of the self-interested, who live in the sunny beams of royal favour. As the elephant moves slowly and majestically on, the people fall prostrate before their great and mighty prince. It is thus by dazzling the eyes of his slaves, and inspiring them with awe, he supports his despotic authority: his mighty will is the law. The shield of this splendid despot is thickly studded with diamonds and rubies; on his head he has a gorgeous turban, ornamented in the same manner, and round his neck a rich chain of pearls of the most exquisite beauty. He also you see bears a sword and a beautiful quiver of arrows, bearing also a staff in his hand richly adorned with drilled or pierced diamonds, while chains of diamonds and rubies adorn different parts of his dress. Rich bracelets encompass his arms, just above the wrist and elbow; and his fingers are covered with costly rings. When he marches at the head of his troops, he is attended by at least a hundred elephants, richly caparisoned, and ten or twelve thousand men. In the centre, either on an elephant or a fine Persian horse, rides the emperor, although he is said to be at the head of his troops; and when he travels privately into the country, he is conveyed in a covered sort of chariot drawn by oxen. When this eastern potentate holds in person a divan, or public court for the administration of justice, he is seated, as you see in this drawing, on the musnud, viz. a kind of stage elevated about two feet above the floor, and covered with a superb cloth, richly embroidered with jewels and fringed with gold. In the centre of the musnud, you see he is placed upon a sort of tray, being formed of either gold or silver gilded. He styles himself the conqueror of the world. His officers surround him, his courtiers adulate him, and the unfortunate are admitted to petition him.” “Who is that person, grandpapa, with his head nearly touching the floor, and without his shoes?” “That is a petitioner, my dear; he is obliged to leave his slippers outside the entrance, and to advance barefooted in token of humility. The salute he is making is called salam: it is expressive of his profound veneration. His forehead nearly touching the ground, he bows himself thus three times before the musnud, and then presents his petition with a purse of gold,—the one being very useless at an eastern court without the other. On giving them, he says, with great humility, ‘Read this my petition, the day will come when all petitions shall be read.’ If the emperor does not choose to receive the petition, he frowns and turns away his head; but if favourable, which greatly depends upon the weight of the purse, he smiles and grants a gracious nod of approbation.”

Just as Mr. Elmer concluded this explanation of the drawing, which inimitably displayed the superb costumes of the mogul court, Alan entered with the tea equipage, informing his master, that he would but just have time to take tea before the phaeton would be ready, according to his order, that the children might reach home before it was too late to hazard their taking cold. An universal exclamation of “surely it cannot be so late, Alan,” came from the party who had been so amused, that time had passed unheeded. Even Little Ellen, who would have found it impossible to have remained so long still any where but on grandpapa’s knee, could not help saying, she was very sorry it was so late that they must go home.

“Well, my dears, as my sketch-book has proved so amusing, you must come and look at it another day, and hear some more anecdotes about the elephants, and perhaps go to the menagerie again, if it remains at C——. Now, Harry, let us see if those cakes Mary has made for us, are as good as the strips of elephant’s flesh.” “This I know, grandpapa,” replied Harry, “that I will willingly give up to the Agageers the dried flesh, while Mary is so good as to furnish us with such famous cakes: won’t you take some, young ladies,” he added, with arch ceremony. Nothing loath, the young ladies accepted his proffer, and full of innocent glee they concluded their refreshment; having kissed their dear grandpapa over and over again, they jumped into the phaeton, and were driven off by Alan, eagerly anticipating the pleasure of telling their papa and mamma all they had seen, and the kind invitation of their grandpapa,—which none of them failed to remember.

Their conversation naturally turned upon what they had heard respecting the elephant, and they seemed disposed to regard every thing they saw in reference to it; for instance, they were accompanied by a favorite water spaniel of their grandfather’s, who in passing a stream seemed highly to enjoy the swim across, instead of passing the bridge. “Look at Selim,” said Harry; “now if he was an elephant, he must go over the bridge, for he could not jump over the stream, and certainly he could not swim.” “Swim, no, I should think not, indeed, Harry,” said Joanna, laughing; “an elephant swim, no, no, with all its cleverness and sagacity, it could not do that to be sure.” “But you are mistaken, my dear,” said Alan, “for they swim over large rivers with great ease. The form and weight of the elephant do not indeed seem much adapted to swimming, yet his trunk enables him to do so. It is true, that when out of his depth in the water (as Selim now is) his body and head are entirely sunk under it; yet he is not in danger of being drowned as other land animals, as he carries his trunk raised above the surface, in order to breathe, and steers his course also by it. Even when several elephants have been crossing a river at the same time, they have all found their way very well, and what is remarkable have never been known to interfere with each other, although their heads, and of course eyes, have all the time been under water.”

“Well, you do surprise us, Alan,” said the children, “so you have seen elephants swim?” “Yes, often, my dears; you remember your grandpapa told you they formed great herds, or families, in the woods. Now I can assure you, that when these families remove from place to place, which they must do for food, the largest elephants put themselves at the head, and if they arrive at a river, are the first to pass over it. On reaching the opposite bank, they try if the landing-place is safe; if it is, they give a signal with their trunk, on which another division of the old elephants pass over, the younger then follow, holding one another by locking their trunks together, then the rest of the old ones bring up the rear.” “Well, I am glad Selim chose to swim over the stream, or we should not have heard these anecdotes of the elephants from you, Alan, and I dare say might have still thought it was impossible for them to swim.”

“O, there is papa and mamma on the lawn,” said Ellen, “we shall soon be at home; what a happy day we have had!”

As they approached the gate, such was the cry—“O what a happy day we have had! and we are to go again, grandpapa says; and he bid us tell you, mamma, we have not been troublesome, but have made him very happy. And he says, you must go, mamma,” added Ellen, “and Charles, when he is a little older. He says I behave very well now.” “I am glad he has returned you with a good character, my little pet,” said Mr. Monson, as he took Ellen in his arms. “Oh papa,” she said, “the elephant is as big as the hay-stack, but so good-natured, Alan says, it rocked a little baby to sleep in a cradle.” “Then, you would have no objection to ride upon one, I suppose.” “Why yes, papa, I don’t think I should like it.” “But I should,” observed Harry. “Papa, let me go to India, when I am a little bigger; I shall then travel on elephants, and eat mangoes, and see the grand mogul all over jewels and gold, with the people bowing their heads to the ground, while he looks so proud and stately.” “What, I suppose, you would like to see his majesty weighed, Harry?” “Weighed, papa! I don’t know what you mean.” “I mean the grand festival, given on the birth-day of the great mogul, when he is very sumptuously dressed, and goes to a magnificent pavilion, attended by his nobles. In it are suspended golden scales, adorned with jewels. Into one of these scales, the emperor places himself, in order to balance the other, which is filled with rubies, emeralds, pearls, gold, silver, fine stuffs, cinnamon, cloves, and other sweet spices; and an exact account is given of the difference of his weight from the last year: if he weighs more, the people shout and rejoice; if less, they manifest every token of concern. The ceremony is concluded with the distribution, from the hands of the mogul, of golden almonds, and other artificial fruits, formed of the same precious metal; and to the poor he distributes small pieces of money.” “That must be a very pretty sight indeed,” observed Joanna, “I should like to see such a grand prince throwing money to the poor. How happy the rich must be!” “Say rather, my child, might be,” said Mr. Monson, “did the will always accompany the power; but as this is not always, nor indeed very often the case, to be content is our wisest as well as our most virtuous course. We have the gracious assurance that a willing mind is accepted by Him who bestows upon us every good, and that a cup of cold water given in his name to those that need it, is an act well-pleasing to Him, and verily will have its reward. But the evening closes, and my Ellen gets sleepy; let us go in, and thank God for the blessings of the day, ere we seek that repose which is to refresh us for the duties of the morrow, should the Almighty suffer us to see it. An habitual remembrance, that we depend upon him for life and breath, and all things, will give additional value to each of these blessings, and preserve our minds easy and serene. You cannot, my children, be too early taught that this is the secret of happiness, the only source of true enjoyment. The prayers of the innocent are acceptable to Him, and their hearts the sweetest sacrifice that can be offered to his Majesty. Come, then, my children, we will kneel before Him, and commit ourselves to his Almighty protection.”

Mr. Monson was the most cheerful of men, and he had found that to preserve it unclouded in his own breast, as well as have its light pervade his family, was to cherish a simple unaffected piety, and a constant sense of the omnipresence of God. “He is about my path and about my bed, and spiest out all my ways,” was his frequent and emphatic caution to his children and dependents, and his encouragement when they had done any thing pleasing to him; thus referring their reward to Him who seeth in secret. It was his regular custom to assemble his family morning and evening, convinced not only that it was a homage due to the Creator and Preserver, but also that such practice was the only thing that could preserve that beautiful union of ranks forming a family, each reciprocally depending upon each in their several peculiar departments, making together the sweet harmony of domestic charities.

Declaring they should dream of the elephant and the great mogul, the children kissed their parents, and cheerfully retired, not a little fatigued with the unexpected pleasures of the day.

CHAP. VI.

The chiefest action for a human being
Is never to be out of action. We should think
The soul was never put into the body,
Which has so many rare and curious pieces
Of mathematical motion, to stand still.

The frolic of the preceding day had not rendered the children inattentive to their lessons, when they arose from their peaceful repose, but on the contrary the new ideas they had acquired, served but to animate them to greater acquisitions; and Mr. and Mrs. Monson had just reason to be pleased with their diligent attention to their several pursuits. Joanna, who was receiving instruction in drawing from her mamma, felt more than usual emulation when she recollected the beautiful sketches of her grandpapa, and wondered if she should ever be able to draw like him. “Doubtless you will, my love, if you apply, and practise as I wish you, fully accomplishing one study before you proceed to another: it is by attempting too much at a time, that so many young people never obtain a facility in doing any thing properly. Nothing can be effected without industry, patience, and perseverance; and there are few things, within the compass of human knowledge, but may be effected with these assistants. Having been accustomed to use your pencil nearly ever since you could hold one, I have great hopes that you will obtain that freedom and facility in its use, without which no one can make an accurate and pleasing drawing. You have sketched these sheep very well; I suppose I shall have you trying an elephant soon?” “No, mamma, it is not pretty enough to induce me to sketch it; but I do like to hear my grandpapa describe its sagacity and gentleness. I wonder when we shall go to C—— again?” “That seems very uncertain, from the gloomy state of the day, my dear; but if you are not able to repeat your visit to the elephant, you have seen enough to give an interest to all you may see or hear respecting such a wonderful animal; and you know I have always told you, that cultivating your talents and expanding your mind, by improving reading and conversation, not only opens to you many sources of pleasure unknown to the ignorant and the idle, but also gives additional gratification in viewing any object of taste and curiosity, and not only this, it prevents the feeling of disappointment becoming painful when any circumstance prevents the fulfilment of engagements like that the kindness of your grandpapa made with you: for not depending upon one species of pleasure alone, a cultivated mind is never at a loss for employment and subjects of interest.”

Joanna and her brother fully verified this observation of their mamma. Several days of nearly incessant rain and storm prevented all possibility of repeating their visit to C——, and when at length the sky cleared, they saw their grandpapa coming up the avenue, they were so fully engaged in their different avocations, that they were easily reconciled to the account he gave them, namely, that discouraged at the state of the weather, which precluded people going to the menagerie, the proprietor had left C——; “therefore,” added Mr. Elmer, “we must be content with what we have seen, and perhaps I may afford you some further amusement, my children, with this sketch-book Alan found out this morning, as it contains a great many delineations of Asiatic animals, particularly of the elephant, employed in the various uses to which its great strength and sagacity are applied. I am come to pass the day with you, if you will spare me a piece of pudding; and Mary desires I will distribute these cakes among you.” This self-invitation gave universal satisfaction. Every one was most willing to give up their share of pudding to dear grandpapa, and Mary’s cakes were pronounced most delicious. Ellen had climbed the envied seat, grandpapa’s knee, and now whispered in his ear “grandpapa, did the elephant shew Mary how to make the nice cakes?” This question was asked by an artless child of her grandfather. For Ellen thought, from their excellence, they must be the handy work of the clever animal of which she had heard so much. “Indeed, little pet, I am not in the secret of their composition, but I am very glad they are good, and please you; I am not come, however, to disturb lessons, we shall have plenty of time; so now off with you at present, while I go and have a chat with your papa.” The children without hesitation retired to their lessons. After an early dinner, the children were invited to grandpapa, who unfolding his sketch-book resumed his anecdotes of the elephant.

The first drawing exhibited was a view of an Indian camp. The tents were white except the mogul’s, which was red, and loftier and more superb than the rest; it was encompassed by an enclosure about ten or twelve feet in height, and guarded by chosen troops. The officers’ tents encircled the emperor’s, arranged according to the respective rank they bear in the army. “The soldiers are attended by their families on these occasions,” observed Mr. Elmer, as he pointed out several carrying their provisions on their heads and the vessels for dressing their repast; whilst their arms were carried by their wives, followed by several children. “In fact,” said Mr. Elmer, “when this eastern monarch takes the field, there is a much greater parade of magnificence than there is of proper warlike spirit. He is attended by his court, his elephants, and almost all the inhabitants of his capital; for there is in the centre of the camp a sort of town, wherein are shops and magazines, where trades are carried on as in a city. But here, children, is what I wish you to observe, you see those finely caparisoned elephants?” “Yes, grandpapa, and what have they got upon their backs?” “Those are small towers, containing the wives of the emperor. Would you like, Joanna, to be shut up in a tower on the back of an elephant?” “Oh no, indeed, grandpapa.” “Then bless God, my dear, you are not an Asiatic, but breathe the free air of Britain.” “Ah, mamma often says she is proud of being an Englishwoman; surely those poor ladies must be very unhappy. Who takes care of them when they are riding upon the elephants?”—“They are attended by guards, appointed for the purpose, my dear; and are not so unhappy as you may suppose, being accustomed from infancy to confinement, and to be subservient to the will of their lord. In this part of the camp, you may observe the elephants who carry the small cannon; they are fired from that situation. Every rajah, or great officer, as well as the sovereign, rides upon an elephant; and the eyes of the whole army are fixed upon their prince. If he fall, it is concluded he must be slain, and the troops all disperse. Thus frequently they change the fortune of the day, as the result might be favourable did they possess firmness and proper discipline. Elephants bred to war, and well disciplined, I have been assured,” added Mr. Elmer to his attentive auditors, “will stand firm against a volley of musquetry, and never give way unless severely wounded. I have seen one of those courageous animals with upwards of thirty bullets in the fleshy parts of his body, and yet perfectly recovered from his wounds.” “Poor thing,” said Joanna, “how much it must have suffered; I wonder how they could do any thing to it, to cure the wounds.”

“Their intelligence is wonderfully displayed on these occasions,” replied Mr. Elmer, “I had once an opportunity of observing the wonderful patience and sagacity of an elephant, which had received a desperate flesh wound from a cannon ball. After having been twice or thrice conducted to the military hospital, where he patiently extended himself to have the wound dressed by the surgeon, he would afterwards go thither alone. The surgeon did whatever he thought necessary, applying sometimes even fire to the wound, and though the acute pain of this application caused the poor animal to utter the most plaintive cries and groans, he never expressed any other tokens than those of gratitude to the surgeon, who by these momentary torments effected his cure after a considerable lapse of time. I have also been informed of another instance of the remarkable sagacity displayed upon a somewhat similar occasion. A young elephant had in the field of battle received a violent blow in its head, the pain of which rendered it so frantic and ungovernable, that it was found impossible to have the part properly dressed: for whenever any one attempted to approach it, it ran furiously off, suffering no one to come within several yards of it. The man who had the care of it at length devised a plan for securing it. By a few signs, he gave the mother of the animal sufficient intelligence of what was required to relieve the wound inflicted on the young one. The sensible creature instantly seized it with her trunk, and held it firmly down, though groaning with agony, while the surgeon dressed the wound; and this service she continued to perform till the animal was perfectly recovered. In many parts of India, also, my dears, as you see in this terrible drawing,” said Mr. Elmer, as he turned over the leaves of his book, “elephants are made the executioners of justice, for with their trunks they will break every limb of the miserable criminals, trample them to death with their feet, or transfix them with their tusks, as they are directed.” “You mentioned the eastern monarchs being borne on elephants to the field of war, my dear sir,” said Mr. Monson, “you doubtless recollect that part of the apocryphal history of our bible, in which it is stated that the elephants of Antiochus were provoked to fight by showing them the blood of grapes and mulberries; and to every elephant they appointed a thousand men, armed with coats of mail, and five hundred of the best horsemen. These were ready on every occasion; wherever the beast was, and whithersoever he went they went also; and upon the elephants were strong towers of wood, filled with armed men, beside the Indian that ruled them.” “Yes! I well remember the passage,” replied Mr. Elmer, “and with the recollection is associated that instance of patriotic self-devotion exhibited in the action of Eleazer, surnamed Savanar, who perceiving that one of the elephants, armed with the royal harness, was higher than any of the others, supposed the king was upon him. He accordingly, it is related, put himself in jeopardy, to the end he might deliver his people, and get himself a perpetual name. Wherefore he ran upon him courageously, through the midst of the battle, slaying on the right hand and on the left, so that they were divided from him on both sides. Which done, he crept under the elephant, and thrust him under, and slew him; whereupon the elephant fell down upon him, and there he died.” A general exclamation of surprise, not unmingled with horror, at this catastrophe, was made by the children, “And was the king killed, too, grandpapa?” “No, my dear; for it is stated, the rest of the Jews seeing the strength (or power) of the king, and the violence of his forces, turned away from them. Thus by not following up the bravery of Eleazer, they defeated the sacrifice he had made of his own life.” “Look here, Ellen,” said Joanna, as she drew her attention to a drawing Mr. Elmer displayed, “here is a pretty little child; grandpapa will explain why it is so near that great elephant.” “I will so, my dear,” said Mr. Elmer, as he placed Ellen so as she might easily look at the sketch. “The elephants that are trained to carry the luggage of the armies in India, are each under the care of a native Indian; and in an instance of this kind here sketched, the keeper and his wife went, as was their practice, into the woods to collect leaves and shoots of trees for his food, having fixed him to the ground by a length of chain, and leaving their little child (unable to walk) under the protection of the sagacious animal, who not only always defended it, but as it crept about, would, when it arrived near the extremity of the chain, wrap his trunk gently round its body, and place it again in the centre of his circle.” Ellen shrunk at the idea of being lifted up by an elephant. “They say,” observed Mr. Monson, “that in crossing the north bridge at C—— yesterday morning, the caravan containing the elephant was racked so much, it was feared the whole would have been precipitated into the river. This account reminded me of a circumstance which occurred when I was in Holland. Two elephants on their arrival in Holland, as presents to the stadtholder, were conveyed in a vessel up the river Waal to Nimeguen, whence they were driven on foot to Loo. The attendants had the greatest difficulty in inducing them to cross the bridge at Arnheim. The animals had fasted several days, it was therefore thought certain that placing food on the opposite side of the bridge would induce them to pass it. Still, however, some time elapsed before they would venture themselves upon it; and even at last they did not take a step without first examining the planks to see that they were firm. During the time they were at Loo, they were so tame as to be suffered to range at liberty. They would sometimes come even into the banqueting-room, when the company were assembled to dinner, and receive fruit from different individuals of the party. After the conquest of Holland, in consequence of the cruelty of many persons who crowded to see them, they lost much of their gentleness. They were subsequently conveyed to Paris, where they are confined in cages and are even become almost ferocious towards spectators. They are not suffered to range at liberty, but are kept in an enclosure sufficiently large to allow them some exercise. This enclosure contains their den and a pond or reservoir, in which during summer they frequently bathe and refresh themselves.

“Here are two drawings,” said Mr. Elmer, “representing the elephant engaged in useful labour. I was induced to sketch the scenes from the novelty of them to an European eye, and also as displaying the importance of these animals in a country, the enervating heat of which renders manual labour so distressing. To give an idea of the labour an elephant performs, it may be sufficient to remark that all the heavy packages, sacks, bales, casks, &c. transported from one place to another in India, are carried by elephants, which bear their burdens on their backs, their necks, and their tusks; and even their mouths are employed, by giving them the end of a rope, which they hold fast with their teeth. Uniting their wonderful sagacity with their strength, they are never known to injure or to break any thing committed to their charge. From the banks of the rivers, they put the packages into boats, without wetting them, laying them down in the gentlest manner and arranging them as they ought to be placed, and when disposed in the places their masters direct, they will try with their trunks whether the goods are firmly and properly stowed, and if they find a tun or cask unsteady and likely to roll, they will actually go of their own accord in quest of stones to prop and steady it. A gentleman of my acquaintance was a spectator of the scene described in this drawing. You see that ship building?” “Yes, grandpapa.”

“Well, the river here represented is a very fine one, called the Mandova, upon the banks of which is the Portugueze settlement or city, called Goa, built on an island of the same name, divided from the continent by this river Mandova. You see on this side a large area, filled with timber in preparation for ship building? At the time my friend visited the place some men had tied the ends of a heavy beam with a rope, which was handed to an elephant, who carried it to his mouth, and after twisting it round his trunk drew the beam without any conductor to the place where the ship was building. One of the elephants employed, sometimes drew beams so large and heavy that more than twenty men would have been necessary to move them. Judge then how valuable the services of the elephant must be. But what excited particularly the admiration of this gentleman was, that when other beams obstructed the road, the elephant elevated the ends of the one he was conveying, that it might easily run over such as laid in the way.” “That is indeed a wonderful instance of intelligence,” remarked Mr. Monson, “and justly entitles the noble animal to be styled ‘half reasoning.’”

“Here is another war scene, Harry,” said Mr. Elmer, again displaying his drawing. “You perceive how this elephant is employed?” “Yes, he seems pushing something up a high mountain.” “It is a piece of artillery,” remarked Mr. Elmer, “his sagacity is very apparent in this service. While the oxen, which you see are yoked to the cannon, make an effort to pull it up the declivity, the elephant pushes the breech with his trunk, and at each effort supports the carriage with his knee, which he places against the wheel. He seems to understand whatever is said to him, and to take the best means to effect the purpose desired. When his conductor wants him to execute any painful labour, or difficult task, he has only to explain the nature of it, and recite the reasons which should induce him to obey. If this is done gently and encouragingly, success is almost certain; for they have been known so docile, as to sacrifice their lives to their exertions, rather than incur the displeasure or contempt of their master. I was told a remarkable instance of this. They were formerly used in India in the launching of ships; an elephant was employed to force a very large vessel into the water, but the work proved superior to his strength. His master, in a tone of sarcasm, desired the keeper to remove ‘that lazy beast, and bring another.’ The poor animal instantly renewed his efforts, fractured his skull, and died on the spot.” “I am not sorry for his cruel master,” said Harry indignantly, “he did not deserve to have such a noble beast. I dare say he was sorry enough when the poor thing dropped down dead.”

“It is indeed basely cruel to tax the strength of any dumb animal beyond its powers,” replied Mr. E.—“too many instances of this barbarity daily occur to our observation: even this morning, as I was coming hither, I met a man with a poor half-starved ass, on which he had placed two immense trusses of hay and a sack of potatoes, with two boys seated thereon nearly as big as the animal, each of them bearing a large basket of turnips, and a huge stick with which they beat about the poor animal’s head; while the brute who followed with a similar sort of bludgeon, incessantly urged his poor slave on by beating it behind.” “These instances of wanton cruelty, are indeed a disgrace to the lower orders of our civilized land,” said Mr. Monson, “which nothing but the universal dissemination of the compassionate doctrines of our religion can correct; and it is some consolation to find, that the individuals we observe guilty of these despotic acts of barbarity are generally ignorant of the principles of religion. Melancholy as this reflection is, that men will remain in darkness while light is beaming on all sides, yet so it is; and we have still to lament that numberless are the human beings who know not or consider not that they will have to answer for every abuse of the power given them over the inferior creation. Ever recollect, my children,” added Mr. Monson impressively, “that the thoughtless cruelty which we are now so frequently pained to witness towards the inferior orders of created beings, would not disgrace any having the impress of man, did they but know God and study his attributes. To you who do, I trust I need not add, that as every creature is formed with a capability of enjoyment, to deprive it of that right is an offence against Him who created nothing in vain.” As Mr. Monson thought it was the most effectual as well as the most valuable mode of education, to draw moral inferences from passing circumstances, such reflections as the above were very frequent in his familiar intercourse with his children, who so far from considering them sermonizing, naturally desired his remarks, and were grateful for them.

“The tusks of the elephant are called ivory, are they not, grandpapa?” inquired Harry. “Yes, my dear; they are not visible when the animal is very young, but as it advances in growth, they are very conspicuous, and in the full grown animal measure sometimes ten feet from their sockets, weighing one hundred pounds each, and sometimes much heavier. The tusk is hollow to a certain height, and of a hard, solid, and firm substance, and being capable of a high polish, many beautiful toys and ornaments are formed of it. The Chinese and other Asiatics manufacture the ivory into toys of the most exquisite beauty, and of such extreme delicacy as scarcely to appear the work of human ingenuity. Indeed of this product of the wonderful elephant, some of the most admirable ornaments of the eastern palaces are formed. You remember, my children, that Solomon made him a great throne of ivory.” “Yes, grandpapa,” said Joanna, “that was one of the beautiful things that excited the surprise of the Queen of Sheba, when she visited Solomon.” “It is described in the bible,” observed Harry, “as being overlaid too with pure gold; and steps, and a footstool of gold, which were fastened to the throne, and stays on each side of the sitting place, and two lions standing by the stays: and twelve lions stood there on the one side and on the other upon the six steps. There was not the like made in any kingdom.” “Dear Harry,” said Joanna, without raising her eyes from the drawings, “how well you remember the description of Solomon’s beautiful throne.” Harry laughed, and produced his pocket bible, from which he had read the account.

“That was very magnificent,” observed Mr. Elmer, “it was the king’s seat of judgment, and of public audience; where he showed himself to the nobles and strangers who resorted to him. It was placed, we are told by the Jewish historians, in the midst of a flight of rich pillars of cedar, curiously carved and covered, or rather inlaid with gold. The ascent, as Harry has just read, was by six steps, each step being supported on either side by a small lion, and the arms of the seat with two as large as life. All these, and even the steps themselves, were covered with ivory and gold. There is no mention of ivory till about Solomon’s time. Perhaps he brought elephants out of India, or at least caused a great quantity of ivory to be imported from thence.”

“Surely, grandpapa, there was never any thing so magnificent as the throne of Solomon; indeed all that he had,” remarked Harry. “Though at that time it undoubtedly was unequalled, my boy, yet in after ages we find many accounts of things constructed with great magnificence. [Note 2.] The throne of the Parthian kings was of gold, encompassed with four golden pillars adorned with precious stones. The Persian kings are stated to have sat in judgment under a golden vine, and other trees of gold, the bunches of whose grapes and other fruits were composed of jewels.”

“As you seem to have got upon a magnificent subject,” said Mr. Monson, “of thrones, and gold, and precious stones, perhaps the description of the great mogul’s famous peacock throne, as given by Tavernier, may entertain you.” “Oh yes, papa,” exclaimed both the children at once. “Well, then, cautioning you not to think I am going to read you a fairy tale, I will fetch the volume from my study.” “Thank you, papa.” In a few minutes, Mr. Monson returned with the volume, from which he read as follows:—

“The great mogul has seven thrones, some set all over with diamonds, others with rubies, emeralds, and pearls. But the largest throne is erected in the hall of the first court of the palace. It is in form like one of our field beds, six feet long and four broad. I counted about a hundred and eight pale rubies, in collets, about that throne, the least whereof weighed a hundred carats,[1] but there are some that weigh two hundred. Emeralds I counted about a hundred and forty, that weighed some three score, some thirty carats. The under part of the canopy is entirely embroidered with pearls and diamonds, with a fringe of pearls round the edge. Upon the top of the canopy, which is made like an arch, with four panes, stands a peacock with his tail spread, consisting entirely of sapphires and other proper coloured stones. The body is of beaten gold, enchased with numerous jewels, and a great ruby adorns his breast, to which hangs a pearl weighing fifty carats. On each side of the peacock are two nosegays, as high as the bird, consisting of various sorts of flowers, all of beaten gold enamelled. When the emperor seats himself upon the throne, there is a transparent jewel with a diamond appendant encompassed with rubies and emeralds, so suspended that it is always in his eye. The twelve pillars also that uphold the canopy, are set round with rows of fair pearl of the most exquisite water. At the distance of four feet upon each side of the throne are placed two umbrellas, the handles of which are about eight feet high, covered with diamonds; the umbrellas themselves being of crimson velvet, embroidered and fringed with pearl. This is the famous throne which Timour began and Shah Johan finished, and is really reported to have cost one hundred and sixty millions and five hundred thousand livres.”[2]

“To us,” observed Mr. Elmer, “to whom jewels are so comparatively rare, as well as the precious metals, the eastern profusion of both seems almost a fable. We are told of a Prince of Persia who had two troops of guards, consisting of a thousand men each; one troop of which bore maces of gold, each weighing a thousand crowns; the other carried maces of silver of the same weight. These were his ordinary guard, and upon extraordinary ceremonies each horseman carried his mace upon his shoulder. I have frequently seen the slaves or servants of the Mahotta chiefs running before them with gold and silver staves of rich workmanship; they are called chopdars, and are a sort of heralds who sing the praises of their chiefs, proclaiming their titles in the hypobolic style of the east. To their lord, for instance, is generally ascribed the power of ‘levelling mountains, of exhausting the ocean, of awing the earth, and making the people tremble at his nod.’”

“What nonsense, grandpapa.” “I think it wicked, Harry,” said Joanna, “to flatter people so; it is that perhaps that makes great men so proud.” “There are but too many instances of its having this effect, my dear. The adulation which the potentates of the east receive from their slaves, fosters the pride too natural to the human heart, and leads to many oppressive and cruel acts; which might be much enlarged upon. But leaving this subject, let me remind you of one quality possessed by the elephant I had forgotten to name, that is, its sensibility to music, respecting which there are many anecdotes; one only I will relate. A band of music was placed in a gallery, which surrounded the upper part of the building in which two elephants were confined. Some provision they were fond of was given them, in order to engage their attention, and the musicians began to play. The sound no sooner struck their ears, than they ceased to eat, and looked about with surprise to discover from whence the sounds proceeded. At sight of the gallery, the orchestra, and the spectators assembled to view the effect of the experiment, they discovered considerable alarm, as though they imagined there was some design formed against them. But the harmony soon appeared to have lulled every fear; all other emotions becoming completely absorbed in their attention to it. Strains of a bold and wild expression excited in them turbulent agitations, expressive either of violent joy, or of rising fury. A soft air performed on the bassoon evidently soothed them to gentle and tender emotions. A gay and lively air moved them to demonstrations of sportive sensibility; whilst other variations of the harmony would not fail to produce corresponding changes in the motions of these susceptible animals.”

“I should suppose,” remarked Mrs. Monson, who had entered the room to hear this anecdote, “that the discovery of this susceptibility to ‘sweet sounds’ will be found useful in taming and regulating this wonderful animal. It is a remarkable circumstance that the most intelligent of the brute creation, such as the dog, the horse, &c. have this susceptibility to variation of sound. Our Fanchon is an instance of this. There are tones on the piano which seem to agonize her, and others from which she appears to feel as much pleasure.” “Oh yes, mamma, there is that little Polish dance we all like so, seems to please Fanchon as much as any of the party, and the Scotch air you and I love so dearly, seems to give her as much pain as if she were caught in a trap.”

All laughed, and agreed with this remark of Joanna’s, and said it was strange, passing strange! “But now we must have the book put aside, my dears,” said Mrs. Monson, “grandpapa has been very good to indulge you so long. Tea is now waiting, and as the evening has turned out so stormy, I shall keep your grandpapa with us to night; therefore to-morrow perhaps he will allow you another peep at his sketches.” The children assured that every due indulgence would be granted them, then vied with each other who should soonest be ready to conduct grandpapa into the drawing-room, and having taken a merry tea, they accompanied their mamma to the nursery, not however till they had returned to the parlour a short time, to bid their grandpapa good night, and to promise they would call him in the morning, as he had petitioned they might be allowed to breakfast with him.

CHAP. VII.

If there is happiness below,
In such a home she’s shrin’d.
The human heart can never know
Enjoyment more refin’d,
Than where that sacred band is twin’d
Of filial and parental ties;
That tender union all combin’d,
Of nature’s holiest charities!

The morning was dry, but gloomy, and the fire cheerfully burning in the breakfast-room, when he was conducted thither by the delighted children, was no unpleasant object to Mr. Elmer; who both from his advanced age, and from the effects of a long residence in the torrid regions, was very susceptible of the autumnal changes of temperature. Warmth and cheerfulness soon however pervaded his frame and his spirits, in the family circle of his daughter, aided by that most social of meals the morning’s repast, which was protracted by the relation of many an anecdote, and the passing of many a joke. Reverting to the removal of the menagerie, Harry said “if we could have seen it again, grandpapa, should we have seen the great serpent that is named in the bill?” “The boa constrictor do you mean?” “Yes, grandpapa. Joanna says she should not like to see it, it must be so frightful.” “Its magnitude makes it terrible, my dear; and indeed all the serpent tribe convey unpleasant ideas to the mind, but if we can divest ourselves of this feeling, they are beautiful to behold, from the vividness and variety of their colours. Your mention of this enormous serpent, my dear Harry, reminds me of a species I have frequently seen and admired in Asia; it is called the boiga, remarkably beautiful, combining the most lively colours of the richest gems with the splendour of burnished gold, mingled with dark brown shades, which contrast and display the more brilliant hues. The whole under surface of the head and body is of a silver white, separated from the changing blue of the back by a golden chain on each side the whole length of the body. This fine blue and silver, ornamented with gold, by no means however gives a full idea of the beautiful embroidery, as it may be termed, of the boiga. We must take it in all the reflected tints of silver colour, golden yellow, red, blue, green and black mingled, and ever changing in the most extraordinary and beautiful manner possible; so that when about to change its skin, it seems studded with a mingled assemblage of diamonds, emeralds, topazes, sapphires, and rubies, under a transparent veil of bluish chrystal. Thus in the rich and torrid plains of India, where the most splendid gems abound, nature seems to have chosen to reunite them all together with the noble metals to adorn the brilliant robe of the boiga. It is one of the most slender of serpents in proportion to its length, which but rather exceeds three feet, yet not more than a few lines in diameter. The tail is nearly as long as the body, and like a needle for fineness at the extremity, yet is somewhat flattened on all sides so as to be in some measure square. From the delicacy of its form, its movements are naturally agile, so that doubling itself up several times, it can spring to a considerable distance, with great swiftness. It can twine and twist itself most readily and nimbly around trees or other similar bodies, climbing or descending, or suspending itself, with the greatest facility. The boiga feeds on small birds, which it swallows very easily, notwithstanding the small diameter of its body; as, like other serpents, it has the power of distending its throat and stomach. It conceals itself under the foliage of trees, on purpose to surprise the small birds, and is said to attract them by a peculiar kind of whistling, to which the term of song has been applied, certainly with great impropriety, as its long divided tongue and the conformation of its other organs of sound are not adapted to a melodious continuity of tones. Yet although nature has not ranked the boiga amongst the songsters of the woods, it certainly seems to possess a more perfect instinct than other serpents, united to more agile movements and more beautiful exterior. In the isle of Borneo [note 3], the children play with the boiga without the smallest dread; they carry it in their hands, and twist it about their necks, arms, and bodies in a thousand directions. It returns caress for caress with the Indian children, who fondle it apparently pleased to be intwined about their little hands and arms. The appearance of these nimble and innocent animals in the forests, is extremely beautiful, displaying their splendid colours and gliding swiftly from branch to branch, without possessing the smallest noxious quality. We may perhaps almost regret, that this species require a degree of heat greatly surpassing that of our regions, and that it can only subsist near the tropics, in Asia, Africa, and America. In fact, the boiga seems not only to possess superior beauty, but may be said to personify the old maxim of combining the wisdom of the serpent with the harmlessness and gentleness of the dove.”

“Thank you, my dear grandpapa,” said the ever-ready spokesman, Harry, delighted to listen to these accounts of his venerable relative, who justly thought this oral instruction, in the hours of familiar intercourse, was infinitely more likely to impress the youthful mind, than mere reading-works of natural history; he therefore lost no opportunity of describing what he had seen or heard likely to interest the children.

“You have seen the serpents in India taught to dance, have you not, my dear father?” asked Mrs. Monson. “Serpents dance, mamma,” said Harry, laughing, “I should as soon have thought our favorite elephant could dance a reel.” “I have however,” said Mr. Elmer, “several times seen the serpents in India dance, and those too very different in disposition to the innocent boiga, for among the arts of the Indian jugglers and mountebanks, the most remarkable is, that they make one of the most venemous serpents, the naja, or hooded snake, called by the Portuguese cobra de capello, what they term dance. This serpent is most dangerous to man, infusing by his bite a deadly poison into the wound. Those who are so unfortunate as to be bitten by it, are immediately seized with fits and dreadful oppression, and expire in convulsions, unless speedy assistance is given; at least they hardly escape mortification in the injured part, the cure of which is very difficult, if antidotes are not instantly applied. This serpent, which belongs to the class of vipers, is from three to four feet in length, and of a middling thickness; its skin is scaly, beautifully striped, rough, dark brown, and the under part of its body white. When provoked, it has the singular property of puffing up the skin on both sides of the neck and extending it like a fillet, which on the reverse side shows like a pair of spectacles distinctly marked with a white colour, the circles of which are visible in the skin, which is spread round the head: thus with its body raised, and with extended jaws, displaying two rows of sharp teeth, it darts upon the enemy with surprising swiftness. That this formidable animal should be brought by singing to make, before spectators, movements resembling a dance, is almost incredible to those who only hear of it, and an astonishing, if not agreeable sight to those who witness it.”

“Oh pray tell us more about the serpent-dance, grandpapa, if it is not too much trouble,” said Harry, riding astride Mr. Elmer’s knee, and looking all eager curiosity. “It is all very natural, my boy, as you will find when I describe the dance. A juggler, or charmer of serpents as they call themselves, who intends to display his art, before he does any thing, takes a piece of a certain root, of which he always carries some in his girdle, in his right hand, closing it firmly; this root he declares, defends him against all attacks from serpents; so that he can do any thing with them without being endangered. After this, he throws the serpent on the ground, out of the vessel in which he carries it about, and gently irritates it with a stick, or with the clenched hand in which he holds the root. The provoked animal, resting upon the point of its tail, raises up its whole body, and darts upon the fist which he holds out to him, with flaming eyes and extended jaws, from which the hissing tongue is protruded.” “Oh how frightened I should be to see it,” said Joanna, timidly. “The charmer,” resumed Mr. Elmer, “now begins his song, at the same time moving his fist backwards and forwards, up and down, according to the time. The serpent, with its eye constantly directed towards the fist, imitates its movements with its head and whole body, so that without quitting its place, and resting on its tail, it extends its head two spans long, and moves to and fro, together with the body, in beautiful undulations, which is called dancing: this, however, does not last more than half a quarter of an hour; for exhausted by the erect position and movements to the musical time, the serpent throws itself upon the ground and escapes. To avoid this, the charmer breaks off his song a little before, when the serpent lays itself quietly upon the ground, and suffers itself to be brought back to its receptacle.” “Then, grandpapa, the root has a secret power, and the song does make the serpent harmless?” eagerly asked Harry. “These people certainly affirm so, my dear, for they say, the root causes the serpent to do no harm, and the singing makes it dance; but I do not believe that this is true in either case. According to the conviction produced on my mind, by accurate observation, I think it is fear by which these serpents are taught to follow the motions of the master’s hand, which is held before them, and are induced to the movements resembling those of a dance. I once saw a Hindoo instruct such a serpent in a few days to dance, by means of a stick and a bason which he held before it; and they are rendered harmless by extracting the poison from the bags at the root of the canine teeth of the upper jaw, which is done by provoking them, and making them bite a cloth or some other soft and warm body, by repeating which several days successively, the poison is extracted. Yet it appears from the testimony of many respectable travellers, that there are certainly many vegetable substances which afford security against the bite of a serpent. There is a herb in Abyssinia so efficacious against poison, that it is stated, the most venemous serpents immediately on touching it are as if stunned, and whoever eats the root of this herb may be for years amongst the most poisonous serpents without danger of injury.”

“Well, when I go to India,” said Harry, “I should like certainly to have a little of that herb, for I cannot say I like snakes and serpents, they seem so sly.” “Infinite wisdom has endued them with this subtilty, my dear,” remarked Mr. Elmer, “in obedience to that grand law of self-preservation, which pervades animated creation. Your observation of the slyness of the serpent tribe may perhaps more peculiarly and justly be applied to that species of them called the cerastes, or horned snake. This serpent is emphatically called by the orientals the lier in ambush, as it lies in wait for passengers in the sand. From its lurking place, it treacherously bites the horses’ heels, so that the rider is thrown off backward, in consequence of the horses’ legs becoming almost immediately torpid, through the virulence and activity of the poison.”

“O dear, what a dreadful animal,” said Joanna. “It is so, my dear,” replied the good old man; “but yet the more we look into the works of the Almighty, the more reason shall we find to acknowledge that nothing is made in vain, and although there will be many mysteries beyond our finite capacities to understand, yet we may discern ample proofs of wisdom and goodness: we ought then to adore in silence, and wait in patience till the veil is further removed from the ways of our great and good Creator. Even this wily serpent, whose insidious attack seems so revolting to the generous nature of man, is endued with the instinctive power, in order to preserve its own existence. It is about thirteen or fourteen inches long, and has two small excrescences on the head, resembling barley-corns, and which the natives compare to horns. They are, however, properly feelers, which project when the serpent is covered in the sand; when it moves these feelers (as you doubtless have seen snails), the birds, who fancy they are worms, fall upon them; then the cerastes, which is roused by the slightest touch of its feelers, twines round the birds, and kills and devours them. It is however apparently a very malignant animal, for when it inclines to surprise any one who is too far from him, he creeps with his side towards the person and with his head averted, till judging his distance he turns round and springs upon him, fastening on the part next to him. It has the power of easily doing this, as it moves with great rapidity, and in all directions.” “Ah! how different from the innocent boiga,” said Joanna. “But,” added Mr. Elmer, “among the great number of serpents which abound in Hindostan, the cobra minelle is the most dangerous, although the smallest. I will conclude our notices of this subtle tribe with the description of this fearful animal, whose bite occasions a speedy and painful death. They are of a brown colour, speckled with black and white, though at a distance not easily distinguished from the ground on which they move; happy however would it be for many who become their victims, if they confined themselves to it, but they enter the houses, and creep upon the beds and chairs. I once found four in my chamber.” “Well, I am happy I do not live in India, however,” said Joanna; “for all the jewels, and grandeur, and delightful fruits would be nothing to me from the fear I should continually have of the serpents.” “They are indeed not very pleasant inmates,” replied Mr. Elmer, “often being found in old walls. But what, Joanna, will you say of a serpent which discovered to a prince a great treasure; that was even more extraordinary than dancing, was it not?” “I think so, indeed, grandpapa, but how was it?”

“A prince of Persia, we are informed,” resumed Mr. Elmer, “was reduced to great difficulties from want of a due attention to his government and treasury (for you are ever to remember that difficulty and distress will inevitably follow neglect and carelessness). Walking disconsolately and anxiously one day, in an apartment of his palace, which had previously been the residence of his enemy and rival, he perceived a serpent putting its head out of a chink in the wall. Immediately seized with a superstitious fear, he summoned persons to search the wall and destroy the serpent. In opening the wall for this purpose, a secret place was discovered in which they did not find the serpent, but a vast treasure lodged in several coffers, in which Jacout, his enemy, had deposited his most precious effects.” “Is that story true, grandpapa?” asked Harry. “We are assured by the person that relates it of its veracity, my dear; I cannot vouch for it.” “And do you think, grandpapa, that they really do charm the serpents and make them harmless?” “Really, my dear boy, you have proposed a question I find it difficult to answer. Numerous testimonies of the fact might be collected, and truly there are some instances in which the powers of the persons professing the art appear extraordinary. A modern traveller in Africa (Brown) says, after expressing his surprise at those powers, ‘the serpent most common at Kahina is of the viper class, and undoubtedly poisonous. If one of them enter a house, the charmer is sent for, who uses a certain form of words. I have seen three serpents thus enticed out of a cabin of a ship lying near the shore. The operator handled them, and then put them in a bag. At other times I have seen the serpents twist round the bodies of these Psythi in all directions, without having had their fangs extracted or broken, and without receiving any injury from them.’ That they certainly are highly susceptible of musical sounds, I have many times had occasion to observe,” said Mr. Elmer, “and though I did not mean to enlarge further upon the subject, I will add one other little anecdote which occurs to my recollection. Among my drawings, I have that of the cobra de capello, or hooded snake, which danced for an hour on the table while I painted it; during which time I frequently handled it, to observe the beauty of the spots, and especially the spectacles on the hood, which I have described to you, not a moment doubting that its fangs had been previously extracted, consequently that I was caressing an innoxious animal. But the next morning a domestic, who was a Mahometan, came to me in great haste, and desired I would instantly retire and praise the Almighty for my good fortune. Not understanding his meaning, I told him I had already performed my devotions, and that my religion did not enjoin so many stated prayers as to the followers of his prophet. Mahomed then explained the reasons I had for the immediate act of praise, by informing me, that while he was purchasing some fruit in the bazar, he observed the man who had attended me on the preceding evening, entertaining the country people with his dancing snakes; they according to usual custom sat on the ground around him, when either from the music stopping too suddenly, or from some other cause irritating the vicious reptile I had so often handled, it darted at the throat of a young woman, and inflicted a wound of which she died in the short space of half an hour.” An exclamation of horror burst from the children at the relation of this fatal catastrophe. “Mahomed,” continued Mr. Elmer, “once more repeated his advice for praise and thanksgiving to Alla, and did not fail to record me in his calendar as a lucky man.” “Indeed, grandpapa, I think he was quite right, and I dare say you thought so too, and did not neglect his advice?” Mr. Elmer was on the point of assuring Harry that he was truly sensible of the providence which had saved him from this shocking and rapid death, when Mrs. Monson entered the room. “The morning having cleared so delightfully, my dear father,” she said to Mr. Elmer, “perhaps you would like to put in practice your intention of walking to dame Wilson’s, for some honey. Myself and the children will be happy to show you the way to our respectable old friend.” “I accept your offer, my dear,” said Mr. Elmer, “provided it is not too late, but (taking out his watch) I must be at C—— by three o’clock.” “Oh, grandpapa, there will be plenty of time,” said Harry, delighted that he should still enjoy his grandpapa’s company.

“Well, then,” said Mrs. Monson, “let us be quick, and prepare, while the sun shines so gloriously and the air is so clear and balmy. I will but tell Susan to follow us with the little ones, and we will set off directly;” and she hastened out of the room with all a mother’s, all a daughter’s feelings glowing at her heart and animating her countenance, while the good old man followed her with his eyes, into which started the tear of joyful affection.

CHAP. VIII.

The path-way from the rectory to the farm-house of John Wilson and his dame, was a pleasant and dry gravelly lane, on the skirts of a wood, which formed the back ground of Mr. Monson’s comfortable dwelling, the front windows of which commanded a delightful view of a richly-cultivated country, in which a high moral interest was given, by the many neat and pleasant cottages and small farm-houses that spotted the landscape.

It may with truth be said, there is no weariness in the contemplation of nature, on the contrary, a relish for her simple delights and beauties formed in early life, remains with us to the latest hours of our existence; and even if the world have engrossed the advancing years of life, the mind naturally reverts with pleasure and tender satisfaction to those early days when the country walk was anticipated as a high gratification, and enjoyed with a relish which belongs only to those which are innocent. As the happy party passed down the lane, Harry observed the broom (now hanging its yellow riches as it were to tempt the passenger), covered with the gossamer. “Dear grandpapa, how thick the cobwebs cover the broom,” he observed; “how can it be done?” “That fine filmy substance, my dear, is called gossamer; it is formed by the flying spider, which in traversing the air for food shoots out those fine filmy threads, which are made to look so thick by being borne down by the dew.” “Well may we say,” remarked Mrs. Monson “that the study of nature’s works is delightful, as well as the subjects inexhaustible, the more we examine, the further we search, so much the more shall we have reason to admire and adore the Divine artist.” “True, my dear,” replied Mr. Elmer, “nor is the power and wisdom of the Creator manifested more strongly in any thing than in the formation of those countless myriads of living creatures we call insects; though diminutive in point of size, in regard to numbers they are unquestionably the most distinguished of the works of nature, for they pervade every situation, the water, the air, the bowels of the earth; they exist in wood, upon animals, decayed vegetables, all kinds of flesh, in every stage of its health and decay. Of these, multitudes

——‘Escape

The grosser eye of man: for if the worlds

In worlds inclos’d, should on his senses burst,

From cates ambrosial, and the nectar’d bowl,

He would abhorrent turn.’

“But, my little Ellen,” added Mr. Elmer, calling his favorite pet, “look at that pretty Red-breast sitting on that fallen tree. I dare say he is waiting for his companion the fagot-maker.” “Oh I wish he would go home with me,” said the little girl, “I would so love him, and feed him so nicely.” “Let him alone, and he will pay your window a visit when the weather gets a great deal colder, and the snow is on the ground. Then you may give him some crumbs, and he will repay you with a sweet song.” “Yes,” said Joanna, “we all love Robin Red-breast; mamma has given us several sweet descriptions of this dear little bird. But, grandpapa, I never saw a nest of Red-breasts.” “It generally builds near the roots of trees, my dear, in some concealed spot near the ground. The little nest is composed of dried leaves, mixed with hair and moss, and lined throughout with feathers. In order more effectually to conceal it, the bird is said to cover it with leaves, suffering only a narrow winding entrance under the heap to be left. Its pleasing familiarity has caused the pretty little bird to have some peculiar denomination, indicative of its social habits, in several countries. The inhabitants of Bornholm (in Denmark), call it Tommi Siden; the Norwegians, Peter Rosmad; the Germans, Thomas Gierdel; and we, as you know, Robin Red-breast.” “And by far the prettiest name, too,” said Harry, as he trudged by the side of his grandpapa, every now and then looking up, with a countenance fraught with curiosity and pleasure, to that of his mild and intelligent grandfather. Thus conversing, they reached the end of the lane, and turning a corner, the farm of honest John Wilson was seen just peeping through the trees of a large orchard, the fruit of which hung in rich abundance on some remarkably fine and handsome trees. The grass of the orchard was green and fresh as the spring, a fine sow and a numerous litter of nice little white pigs seemed to be in the full enjoyment of a stolen ramble in this land of plenty, while a rough little pony, a fine milch ass, and a frolicsome little foal seemed equally pleased with their quarters. The orchard was divided from the road by a narrow ditch and luxuriant quickset hedge, clipped with the utmost neatness, and so thick as to be impervious to man or beast. Having passed this promising part of the farmer’s domain, our party came in front of the building. It was one of those ancient mansions, a few of which now exist, that from having been the residence of the opulent country gentlemen of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, have been converted into substantial farm-houses. On one side of the heavy porch grew a huge bay-tree, throwing its dark shadow even round the corner in which it stood, as if to screen from observation the dilapidation of a building, with which it seemed coeval; on the other side was a pyracantha rising with vigorous shoot even to the chamber windows, its bright red berries contrasting with its sober foliage and the variegated leaves of a vine, which also was trained over the front of the building. By the opening on each side of the porch, stood two heavy carved stone jars, containing each a myrtle, apparently cut down every season, and studiously kept as round as possible, scarcely one twig advancing before another, and in perfect consistency with the solid and substantial nature of the vases which contained them, as well as every thing around. Before this substantial building, was no lawn or sweep, no clumps, no shrubberies, but a spacious garden cut into regular walks; some gravelled, edged with box, others grass. A few enormous espalier trees were seen, on which blushed in the noon-day sun some remarkably fine apples; and in a narrow border, surrounding two square grass plats before the house, were rosemary, rue, sweet-brier, marigolds, China asters, hollyhocks, and other varieties of late blowing flowers, mingling their bright hues. On the grass plat was spread a sail-cloth, with seeds drying in the sun, and a little cottager’s child sat near, shelling kidney-beans. Within the open casement of one of the windows a fine tortoise-shell cat reposed in state, the heat of the sun making her variegated coat almost to emit sparks of fire. Before the porch, full in the path, lay stretched at his length, a very large greyhound, who seemed too much to enjoy his slumbers to think of giving way to the visitants, as, opening the white gate from the green bordering the road, they proceeded up the path to this abode of apparent substantial comfort. Not a creature but the little girl shelling the beans was to be seen, and on inquiring of her, they found the poor child was dumb. A pretty loud knock at the door however soon brought the mistress of the mansion to the open window, and as quickly to the door when her guests were perceived. “Bless you, madam, I ask your pardon, I hope you have not been waiting long, but we be all so busy to-day, the gipsies might have ran away with the house, and we never the wiser.” While dame Wilson was apologizing, Mr. Elmer was observing that she presented a model which was daily becoming more rare, and the loss of which, like every other good, will perhaps not be appreciated at its full value, until it is not to be redeemed. Mrs. Wilson appeared about forty-five, comely, but not too stout for activity. Her dear blue eye, healthful bloom, active step, and kindly manner, almost instantly prepossessed in her favour, and every observation of her judicious management, and perfect propriety in her station, soon ripened that involuntary favour into esteem for her useful character. “We are come to inquire, if you can let us have some of your nice honey this season, Mrs. Wilson?” said Mrs. Monson. “I dare say you may, ma’am,” replied the good dame, “but don’t stand here,—and you, sir, [to Mr. Elmer,] and these darlings,” as she severally kissed the children, “pray walk into the house; you will excuse its not being in order, for as I was saying, we have been mighty busy this morning. If you will sit down a bit, I will get the little dears some cakes.” “Do not trouble yourself to do that, I pray,” said Mrs. Monson, “they really do not require any refreshment.” “Oh! but they must try my cakes, I have just been baking, as you may see,—I am all over flour:” and she brushed a little flour off her neckkerchief as she spoke, the extreme neatness and cleanness of her dress little indicating she had been employed in the manner she mentioned. Every thing in the house, or keeping-room, denoted comfort and neatness; a dresser covered with a cloth white as a curd,—beneath it a goodly sight of copper and brass utensils, above as fair a show of pewter, tin, and earthenware: an immense fire-place, the open part of it so far modernized as to have, instead of dog’s, a range bright as a drawing-room stove, above the mantel-board a fowling-piece, two pistols, and a hanger were suspended in awful array; in the front ground four old-fashioned brass candlesticks, a modern japanned chamber candlestick, with snuffers and tray, and in the middle a large brown earthen jar, filled with hollyhock and Michaelmas daisies. The floor of this apartment was of stone, remarkably white, and at the bottom of it a large dining-table, polished by the labour of the damsels of the farm, attracted the attention, as it literally reflected the form that passed before it. To make up the furniture of this living room were, beside the usual chairs of wainscot, two caned, and armed for the elders of the family, and whose ample seats were rendered comfortable by soft leather cushions; they were curiously carved, as was also the foot of a small round table, which appeared to be the accompaniment of the farmer’s chair. Having remained in this spacious apartment a few minutes, Mrs. Wilson returned to the party laden with good cheer for the children, which she soon arranged on a table near the large cheerful window. Fresh-made butter, cream cheese, baked fruit, and beautiful little loaves, as well as light cakes, presently invited the visitants to do honour to her housewifery skill; milk, whey, and mead forming the beverage to the feast. “And how are your daughters, Mrs. Wilson? I have not seen them; I hope they are well, and yet with you.” “Oh yes, ma’am, Susan is gone with the butter and poultry to market this morning, and Betty, poor girl, has been up all night with Jenny.” “What, have you a servant ill then?” inquired Mrs. Monson, in a sympathizing tone. “No, thank God, not so, ma’am; Jenny is our best cow, poor beast, but I forgot, you did not know that when I spoke. She has been very bad, and Betty never leaves the poor dumb animals to the men alone, but sits up to see they are properly attended to; I think she has saved many a poor beast by her care,—and they cost so much money, it is very necessary to attend to them.” “Will you have a good season with your bees, think you?” inquired Mr. Elmer. “I think we shall, sir, but we have not examined the weight of the hives yet.” “You do not destroy your bees to obtain their riches, do you, Mrs. Wilson?” said Mrs. Monson. “No, indeed, ma’am, if that were necessary, I would not keep them, if I gained ever so much by them.” “But you are obliged to rob them of their harvest, are you not?” “Why, yes, sir, that we certainly must do in some degree, but yet we attend to and feed them, and they soon recover their loss; but will you walk and look at the hives?” “With pleasure, if not interrupting you too much?” “My baking is all over, therefore I can readily attend you,” replied the good-humoured woman; and they proceeded to the apiary,—Ellen having attached herself to nice Mrs. Wilson.

The apiary was judiciously chosen, a little nook in a southern aspect, quite open to the sun, but sheltered from the wind, and in the vicinity abundance of flowers and sweet herbs; every spot around clear and free from weeds, decayed vegetables, or any thing in which insects might harbour, or noisome smells be produced. The spot was sufficiently near to the house to give constant opportunity of attending to them in the feeding time, and yet so sheltered as not to be subjected to interruption of noises or passengers, which greatly inconvenience these industrious insects. Mrs. Wilson was particularly successful with her bees, although, except in not destroying them, she had not adopted any of the improved methods of management. The children longed to ask a thousand questions, but so much time had been taken up by this feast and Mrs. Wilson’s caresses, that Mr. Elmer could only order his winter store of honey, and thank Mrs. Wilson for her kindness, before he was obliged to summon his young companions to return. After many invitations on the part of the hospitable dame, and many promises from Mr. Elmer, they bade Mrs. Wilson farewell, and proceeded by the open road to the rectory, Mr. Elmer having ordered his phaeton to be in readiness by the time of his return.

The discourse during the walk home naturally turned upon the bees, and Harry inquired what his mamma meant about destroying the bees. “It has hitherto been usual, my dear,” she replied, “when taking the honey collected from the flowers by these little busy insects, to take their lives also, reserving first a few to keep up the stock.” “And how do they do this, mamma; are they not afraid of being stung?” “The common method is, my dear, to dig a hole in the ground near the hive or hives to be taken, and put a stick with a piece of rag tied to it into the place, the rag having been dipped in melted brimstone as the ends of matches are; this rag is set fire to, and the hive is immediately placed over the hole, the earth being instantly thrown up all round, so that none of the smoke may pass away. In less than a quarter of an hour the poor bees are seemingly all dead, but if they are not, they are soon rendered so by being buried in the earth that is returned into the hole. It is indeed by this last unnecessary act that they are absolutely killed, for it has been ascertained by experience, that most of the bees would have recovered from the effects of the fume, and that a careful mode of conducting the operation would prevent any further injury.”

“Mrs. Wilson told you, grandpapa, that bees are very much troubled by the insects, did she not?” “Yes, my dear, their enemies are many and various; vermin, insects, and birds are among them. It is said that the earwigs steal into the hives at night, and drag out bee after bee, sucking out their vitals and leaving nothing but their skins or scalps, like so many trophies of their butchery. Wasps and hornets are however the most formidable enemies the bee has to encounter. But, my dear Harry,” continued Mr. Elmer, “what will you say, if I tell you I knew a boy who was a great destroyer of bees, from being so fond of them as to eat them.” “Oh no, grandpapa, that is impossible, you are laughing at me now because I am so inquisitive.” “No, indeed, I am not, Harry. This poor boy, of whom I speak was an ideot from his birth, and from his earliest childhood showed a great propensity to bees. They were in fact his food, his amusement, and apparently the sole objects which excited him. In the winter season he dozed away his time by the fire-side, in an almost torpid state, seldom leaving the chimney corner; but in the summer he was all alert, and in quest of his game. He had no apprehensions from their stings, but would seize them with naked hands, and at once disarm them of their weapons, and suck their bodies for the sake of their honey bags. Sometimes he would fill his bosom with these animals, and sometimes he attempted to confine them in bottles. He was very injurious to those who kept bees, for he would glide unperceived into their bee-gardens, and sitting down before the stools would rap with his fingers, and catch the bees as they came out. He has even been known to overturn the hives for the sake of the honey, of which he was passionately fond. Where mead was making, he would linger round the tubs and vessels, begging a draught of what he called bee-wine. As he ran about, he used to make a humming noise with his lips resembling the buzzing of bees. This lad was in person and appearance lean and sallow, and except in his favorite pursuit, in which he was wonderfully adroit, discovered not any understanding. He fortunately died while a youth.”

“That is a more curious story, grandpapa, than the serpent charmers,” remarked Harry; “I shall never taste honey, or see a bee on a flower, but I shall think of the poor ideot bee-boy.” “And thank the Almighty, my dear boy, that ‘thy presiding star doth more propitious shine.’ But here we are at home, and there is Alan all ready; now I must bid farewell!”

“Oh, that is what none of us like, grandpapa!” said Joanna, “but yet we are very much obliged to you for sparing us so much of your time.” “If grandpapa could but have staid another day, we should have heard all about the bees, and the honey, and the wax,” said Harry. “We must reserve that till the time when we can watch them, my dear; I think I shall procure some of Mrs. Wilson, and get a glass hive: we will think of it.” “You are always thinking of something to make them happy,” said Mrs. Monson, as she kissed the venerable cheek of her beloved father,—and the tear of affection started in her eye. “Well, best friends must part sometimes,” said the good old man as he returned her salute, imprinted a kiss on the fat cheek of the babe she held in her arms, shook Harry heartily by the hand, and, inquiring for the other young ones, found they had all gathered round Alan, who was promising them various pleasures when they were allowed again to visit the villa, having won the hearts of all by presenting each with a garden implement of his own manufacture, to one a hoe, to another a rake, to another a cart, and to his favorite little Ellen a beautiful little garden roll, of which she was not a little proud, as the gift of dear old Alan; of whom she artlessly inquired, if the white part of the roll was not ivory, taken from the great elephant?

“O life! how pleasant is thy morning,
Young fancy’s rays the hills adorning!
It is enchanted fairy land,
Where pleasure is the magic wand
That wielded right,
Makes hours like minutes, hand in hand,
Dance by full light!”

FOOTNOTES

[1] A carat is 4 grains.

[2] A livre is about 9d. of our money, French 1s.

NOTES
Referred to in the preceding Pages.

Note 1.—Ceylon is a large and mountainous island of Asia, in the Indian ocean, on the coast of Coromandel. It is about 200 miles in length and 120 in breadth. It produces large quantities of cinnamon and pepper of a superior quality; a great variety of beautiful and useful woods, but one of the most remarkable of its trees is the tallipot, a single leaf of which is large enough to shelter ten persons. It abounds in corn, rice, elephants, buffaloes, goats, hogs, deer, hares, dogs, jackals, monkeys, tigers, and bears. There are also mines, from whence are procured rubies, sapphires, topazes, and other stones of inferior value. The natives of the northern parts of the island are a hardy race, and called Bedas; those on the south, Cinglasses, a people extremely superstitious, worshipping idols of various monstrous forms. They are divided into tribes like the Hindoos; and their language, which is said to be copious, smooth, elegant, and expressive, is now made the medium not of imparting the dogmas of gross superstition alone, but of conveying the light of Revelation to the benighted souls of those remote islanders of the East; the Scriptures being translated into Cingalese and received with grateful avidity by the natives.

Note 2.—Ivory was highly valued and admired among the Jews and other eastern nations of antiquity. The purity of its white and delicate smoothness of the surface, with the durability of it (being not liable to tarnish and rust like metals, or like wood to rot or become worm-eaten), made it a favorite ornament in the furniture of the houses and palaces of the great.—Amos (chap. vi.) speaks of beds or sofas of ivory, and the ancient profane authors frequently name curious inlaid works of gold, silver, and ivory. In short, it was used for almost every article of superior elegance and luxury: vessels for different purposes, images of the deities worshipped, ornaments of various kinds, couches, thrones and footstools, also to ornament weapons of war; consequently a considerable value was put upon the commodity. The Romans also used to inlay the ceilings and walls of their saloons not only with gold, silver, and beautiful woods, but also with ivory.

Note 3.—Borneo is an island in the Indian archipelago, about 800 leagues in circumference, and divided into several states or kingdoms. It produces aromatic herbs, oranges, lemons, mangoes, pines, palms in great abundance; also fine mastic and other precious gums, with rice, cassia, coffee, honey, cotton, camphire, frankincense, musk, aloes, and sweet spices of all kinds. Diamonds and gold dust are found in the rivers. The animals are elephants, buffaloes, oxen, horses, tigers, leopards, bears, monkeys, deer, wild boars, goats, parrots, paroquets, and a great variety of beautiful birds. There is also plenty of fine sea and river fish. The inhabitants on the coast are Mahometans; those in the interior, comparatively little known, are Gentoos. On the sea-coast, and near the rivers, the land is usually overflowed half the year, by the heavy and continual rains; to guard against which, some of the habitations are built on floats, and others erected on high pillars. Borneo, the capital, is built on piles, and is large and populous, with a good harbour on the north of the island.

THE END.

Printed by Swinborne & Walter,
Colchester.

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Table of Contents

- A VISIT, &c.

- CHAP. I.

- CHAP. II.

- CHAP. III.

- CHAP. IV.

- CHAP. V.

- CHAP. VI.

- CHAP. VII.

- CHAP. VIII.

- FOOTNOTES

- NOTES Referred to in the preceding Pages.

- THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG™ LICENSE