Family instructor, or, Digest of general knowledge; comprising a complete circle of useful and entertaining information ...

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PULASKI MOMllENT.—CHRIST CHURCH,
Savannah, Georgia
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THE
FAMILY IISTE,.UCTO
OR
DIGEST OF GENERAL KNOWLEDGE;
COMPRISING
A COMPLETE CIRCLE OF USEFUL AND ENTERTAINING INFORMATION,
DESIGNED FOR
FAMILY READING;
COMPILED FROM THE LATEST AND BEST AUTHORITIES,
AND EMBRACING THE VARIOUS DIVISIONS OF
HISTORY, BIOGMPHY, LITERATURE, GEOGRAPHY, NATURAL HISTORY,
AND THE OTHER SCIENCES.
ILLUSTRATED WITH NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS,
EDITED BY ROBERT SEARS.
Out needful knowledge, like our needful food.
Unhedged, lies open in life's common field,
And bids us -welcome to the vital feast !-—Touno.
'^'^'^u,
'(>
NEW YORK.
PUBLISHED BY ROBERT SEARS. 181 %V1LL1 kM'^Si^iIlEE T.
J. S. REDFIELD, CLINTON HALL. —EDWARD WALKELt. — A^TB kI^I^H' &< flOllNISH.
BOSTON- E. J. PEET & CO., 109 WASHINGTON STREET.-PHII..ADELPinA : WiLS.ON & STOKES;
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SOLD ALSO BY B00K3ELLEKS AND AUTHORIZED AGENT3 THKOUOHOUT tHT. UWirSiD STATES.
MDCCCLIV.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1845,
Bt ROBERT SEARS,
in tlie Corks Office of the District Court of tlie United States for the Southern District of New York.
STEUt>>TYrED BY r'edfield k eiVk^M,
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PREFACE
There are no pleasures so unalloyed and so ennobling, as those derived from
mental cultivation. By the acquisition of Knowledge, the mind not only becomes
disabused of the debasing influences of prejudice and ignorance; but it is also en-riched
in its stores of individual happiness and enjoyment, and at the same time ac-quires
the capacity of imparting the like benefits to those around. Trite as may be
deemed the remark, it is no less true, that ignorance is the prolific parent of misery
and vice ; and one of the great characteristics of the present age being its universal
diffusion of intelligence, the neglect of the pursuits of Knowledge can no longer be
regarded as simply inexpedient, but it becomes inexcusably culpable. The incen-tives
to these, are in unison with those which concern our common well-being : the
fruits of Knowledge being the intellectual aliment, from which we imbibe the faculty
of their ever-increasing indulgence. Thus the moral nature becomes matured, the
taste refined, and all that constitutes the distinctive attribute of the human over the
brute, proportionately augmented. The great utility of the acquisition of Knowledge,
consists in the true dignity and independence it confers : empowering the mind to
retire within herself, and expatiate in the quiet walks of contemplation ; to explore
the subtle mysteries of Science, or to muse over the vast expanse of Creation's Won-ders.
The Divine Author of nature has wisely and beneficently annexed a pleasure
to the exercise of our active powers, and particularly to the pursuit of truth ; Avhich,
if it be in some instances less intense, is far more durable, than the gratifications of
sense, and is, not to refer to its other advantages, on that account incomparably more
valuable. It may be repeated without satiety, and pleases afresh in every reflection
of it. Such enjoyments as these are self-created satisfactions, always within our
grasp : not requiring a peculiar combination of circumstances to produce or maintain
them : they spring up spontaneously. They are a rich intellectual spring, ever wel-ling
up with their refreshing influences, and inciting to the pursuit of the highest
good, to noble deeds, and to the purest and most elevating aspirations.
Important, however, as are the immunities conferred by literary pursuits, it is yet
to be recollected that unassociated with habits of reflection and study, as well as a
just regard to appropriateness and discrimination in the choice of books, they not only
often prove unavaihng to any practical purposes, but even sometimes, indeed, become
—
^
'
IT PREFACE.
absolutely injurious. This consideration has been regarded with a less sedulous care
than its importance claimed ; especially in a day when the productions of the Press,
from their vast numerical extent, no less than their heterogeneous character, would
seem to demand redoubled caution.
To know what to read, is equally essential with the art of its right application ; it
is therefore with the view of supplying, in a compendious form, a judicious and varied
selection of valuable reading-mattei garnered from the ample stores of Literature and
Science, that the present work has been prepared. Stimulated by the urgent and in-creasing
demand for books devoted to the purposes of sound and sterling Knowledge,
the Editor has devoted whatever could be rendered available in the improved resources
of the literature of the age, together with the attractions of Pictorial Embellishments,
to a lavish extent, in order to supply the acknowledged chasm. How far he may
have succeeded in the accomplishment of his object, the reader must decide ; his aim
has been to impart important instruction with amusement, in the earnest hope that his
humble efforts may contribute to the promotion of an improved taste among that class
of readers, whose restricted means or opportunities of leisure forbid the indulgence of
more extended excursions over the wide domain of human Knowledge and inquiry.
R. S.
New York, 1846.
CONTENTS.
Page.
Affection of Animals 445
American Antiquarian Soc, Worcester, Mass. 153
^Amherst College - 234
Amoy . 259
Ancient Tower at Newport, R. I. - - - 33
Attractions of Home . . . . • 133
Barcelona, View of 464
Bats ........ 118
Bell of St. Regis ...-.• 276
Betel-nut Tree ...... 306
Bible, the .-.-.-. 416
Blossoms ....... 232
Book-titles ....... 68
Bridgetown, Barbadoes - - - • 192
British Trade with N. A. Indians . • =298
Buenos Ayres ...... 110
Bull-hunting 359
Bunker Hill Monument - • • - 201
Butterflies 228
Canterbury, City of 520
Caoutchouc-tree, the ..... 366
Capabilities 522
Castalia, Greece ...... 369
Castes and Tribes of India 73, 162, 210, 251, 314
Castle of Chillon ...... 404
Castle, Ehrenbreitsteln ..... 372
Castor-oil Plant ...... 385
t-€avern Wells of Yucatan - - - - 387
Circassia and the Circassians ... 492
City of Stockholm ...... 439
Civility . 496
Changes of the Year ..... 24
Charities that sweeten Life .... 368
Chymistry—Air and Water .... 285
Chymistry—Sulphur ..... 470
Chymistry—Carbon- ..... 236
Climates 188
Column of July, Paris ..... 47
Commerce ....... 484
Conversation ....... 153
Cuckoo, the - 490
Cultivation of Flowers ..... 305
Curiosities of Natural History
Dangers of Life .....
Dartmouth College ....
Death of Friends .....
Demosthenes .....
Discoveries made by Accident • •
Diving-bell, the .....
Domestic Entertainments of the Ancients
Dover Castle .....
265
358
221
36
420
240
144
16
510
Dreams ........76
7
281
294
379
332
451
467
201
468
195
292
204
414
142
416
Education .....
Education, Errors in . . .
Earl of Ross's Mammoth Telescope
Eastern Harems ....
Elizabeth Castle, Jersey
Empire of Japan ....
Exaggeration ....
False Positions ....
Fishing in North America
First Books • . .
Foo-Choo-Foo ....
-Fossil Remains in North America •
Fountain of Paul, at Rome .
Guadaloupe .....
Hell-Gate
Page.
Hints for preserving Health • - - - 187
Hoopoe, the 31S
Honied Pheasants of India .... 443
Houses in Turkey and Egypt ... 503
Howard, Memoir of ..... 472
Human Will, the - . . . . . 238
Humble-Bee, the ...... 26
Ice Palace of St. Petersburg - . - 396
Improvement of Memory .... 499
Influence of Rural Scenes .... 165
Influence of Imagination - .... 529
Indian Fishing in North America . . 428
Innocent Gayety - 271
Illustrious Mechanics 513
Institution of Deaf and Dumb, Philadelphia - 166
Intemperance ...... 479
Jaca-tree, the ..--.-. 524
Jenna, Dr. Edward, Life of - . - - 336
Jerboa, the 400
Junction of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans 39, 64, 131
Knowledge of the World .... 259
Language of Animals ..... 43
Last Arrow, the ...... 53
Last Hours of Washington ... - 72
Legends respecting Trees . . . .3, 328
Lingering Good-byes . - - . - 141
Lisbon ........ 423
Living in a Hurry • . . . - . ]48
Love of Nature ...... 334
Lyre-bird, the --...-. 345
Madrid, City of -.-.-- 169
Mammoth Cave of Kentucky .... 287
.
March of Mind 495
Measurement of Time ..... 262
Medicine, taking -.-... 59
Melrose Abbey ...... 204
Men of the World 87
Mental Courage ...... go
Mental Dissipation ..... 353
Mental Exercise, its EflTects .... 441
Migration of Fishes 234
Minute Wonders of Nature .... 109
Modern Innovations ..... 280
Modern Charity 174
Moles 91
Monticello, Virginia ..... 285.
Moore's House, Yorktown, Va. ... 327
Movable Types ...... 374
Mystery ..... . 263
Natural Appearances on the Water - • 196
Natural Appearances in the Heavens • - 218
Natural Phenomena - - . - .113
New Brunswick 337
New South Wales 340
Niagara District, Upper Canada - - - 57, 134
Notes on the Nose 13
Objects, &c., of Chymical Science . • 22
Ocean, the . - .... <^2
Opinions ....... ^5
Passenger-Pigeon, the 514
Pass of the Gemmi ..... 497
Patronisers ....... 508
Peak Cavern, England 527
Persecution of New Ideas .... 372
Phenomena of the Atmosphere ... 244
Philosophy of Sound - - . . .147
I Philosophy of Vegetation .... 254
CONTENTS.
Page_.
Physiognomy - • • • • - -155
Pilgrims in the Desert . . • - • 391
Pleasures and Pains of Memory ... 316
Pompeii ....-•• 27b
Preternatural Rains....•- 96
Profanity 458
Profession ...-.•• 462
Providence .--..•• 203
"Pulaski Monument, Georgia ... - 3
Relationship ..-..• 393
Religion of China 223
Republic of San Marino, .... 532
River St. Clair and Indians, &c. ... 350
Rockfort, Illinois 419
Romance of Insect Life .... - 526
St. Lawrence, Quebec 409
Save me from my Friends .... 347
Scene on the Hudson, &c. .... 186
Secret of Happiness ..... 497
Secret of Success 419
Science and Religion ..... 413
Self-deniers 407
Self-discipline -.31
Seven wise Men of Greece .... 384
Shang-hae 214
Silent Academy of Ispahan.... 365
Sir Walter Raleigh 123
Skill of the ancient Egyptians • • - 220
Smiles 212
Snakes 354
Page.
Sound under Water 487
Stepping-stones of the Dudden ... 272
Stockholm, City of 439
Streets of Constantinople .... 434
Strength of Character ... .121
Superstitions respecting Animals... 71
Serf and Bore of India - - • - - 179
Temple Church 83, 105, 175
Temple of Somnauth .... - 7
Theological Seminary, Princeton • • 151"
Theories of Light 437
Tiger-Hunting in India, .... 517
Time, Essay on • • • • • - 320
Titles of Honor 136
Tomb of Washington 482
Tombs of the Chinese 322
Too late 309
Trogon, the . 477
Turkish Coffee-Houses 480
Unfortunate Men of Genius . - • 289
Villages of the North American Indians . 18
Washington. ... . . 269
Washington at Eighteen 432-
Washington, Headquarters of, at Morristown 101
Water Newt, the 182
Weather Prognostications . . • .101
What is Honest Dealing • . . 302
Wild-Cat, the 430
Yorktown, Virginia 243
Youth 166
LIST OF ENGRAVINGS.
Pag-e.
Adder and Ringed Snake . 355
Amherst College
Amoy
Ancient Tower, Newport,
Rhode Island
Barcelona, View of •
Bats
Betel-nut Tree ...
Bheels, the
Birthplace of Sir Walter Ra-leigh-
....
Brahmin expounding the Ve-da
Bridgetown, Barbadoes
Buenos Ayres - - .
Bunker Hill Monument
Butterflies ...
Canterbury, View of •
Caoutchouc-tree,
Cape Diamond, Quebec
Castalian Fountain, Greece
Castes of India
Castle of Chillon -
Castor-oil Tree
-
Cells of Humble-Bees •
Chippeway Indians Fishing
Column of July, Paris
Cuckoo, the - . . -
Dartmouth College -
Demosthenes . . .
Diagram of an Eclipse
Distribution of Presents to
Indians . . . -
Dover Castle ...
Ehrenbreitstein, View of
Elizabeth Castle, Jersey .
Egyptian Pacha in his Divan
Exchange at Antwerp -
235
260
34
465
119
307
211
124
163
193
111
199
230
54
367
410
370
74,211
. 405
386
- 27
469
48
491
222
421
191
300
511
373
333
507
485
Foo-Choo-Foo •
Fort Chippeway ...
Fort Erie ....
Fountain at Rome
Hall of Antiquarian Society,
Worcester, Mass.
Hedgehogs ...
Hell-Gate, View of • •
Hoopoe, the ...
Horned Pheasants
Howard, John, Portrait of
Hulme Hall, Lancashire
Ice Palace at St. Petersburg
Ice Elephant at do.
Institution of Deafand Dumb,
Philadelphia - - .
Interior of Temple of Som.
nauth ....
Interior of a Cafe at Con-stantinople
- . .
Jaca, or Bread-Fruit-Tree
Jerboa, the ....
Last Arrow, the
Lyre-bird, the ...
Madrid ....
Mahrattas . . . .
Melrose Abbey
Military Costumes of the
Circassians . . .
Modern Egyptian House .
Modern Egyptian House, Ex.
terior View of -
Modern Turkish House .
Moore's House, Yorktown,
Virginia . - . .
Moles ....
Open Court and House at
Grand Cairo . . .
Pa?e.
293
58
ia5
415
154
266
459
319
444
473
363
397
398
167
481
525
401
52
346
170
315
205
493
503
505
505
325
92
501
Page.
498
515
528
392
143
215
128
337
424
456
2
252
284
417
351
375
533
452
Pass of the Gemmi •
Passenger-Pigeon
Peak-Cavern, England
Pilgrims in the Desert .
Ponte-a-Pieire ...
Port of Shang-hae
Portrait of Sir W. Raleigh
Portrait of Dr. Jenner .
Praga do Commercio, Lisbon
Public Road, Naples
Pulaski Monument .
Rajpoots, the - . .
Residence of Jefferson .
Rockfort, Illinois . •
St. Clair River, View on
St. Johns, View of -
San Marino....
Simonoseki, Japan .
Stepping-stones of the Dudden 274
Stockholm, View of - - 440
Street in Constantinople - 435
Temple Church,View of48,106,176
Temple of Somnauth . . 8
Temple of Somnauth, Inte-rior
of ... - 8
Theolog'l Seminary, Prince-ton
.....
Trogons ....
Turkish Harem ...
View of Panama
View of Puerto Bello .
View of Yorktown, Virginia
Village of N. A. Indians
Washington's Headquarters,
Morristown, N. J.
Water Newt ...
Wild- Bull Hunting .
Wildcat ....
149
47S
380
40
65
242
19
101
183
360
431
PULASKI MONUMENT-CHRIST
CHURCH SAVANNAH, GEO.
The city of Savannah is built on a
sandy plain, about seventeen miles from
the ocean, by the course of the river. It
is laid off in a regular manner, the streets
intersecting each other at right angles.
In each ward of the city a vacant space
in left, the houses being built around in
such a manner as to form a square. This
space is enclosed with a circular railing,
and in the enclosure a number of trees are
planted, which in the spring and summer
seasons present a beautiful appearance,
forming a shady bower, under which the
children may be seen sporting upon the
green grass. Among the most beautiful
of these squares is that known as John-son's,
and more recently Monument square,
which is situated a few yards from Bay
street and the Exchange. In the centre
of this square stands a Doric obelisk,
erected by the citizens of Savannah to the
memories of Greene and Pulaski, the cor-ner
stone of which was laid by General
Lafayette, during his visit in 1825. It is
a marble monument, fifty-three feet in
height. The base of the pedestal is ten
feet four inches by six feet eight inches,
and its height about twelve feet. The nee-dle
which surmounts the pedestal is thirty-seven
feet in height. The monument is
built upon a platform of granite, three feet
above the ground, and the whole is enclo-sed
by a cast-iron railing.
To the east of the monument may be
seen Christ church, a newly erected edi-fice.
The order of architecture adopted
in this building is the Grecian Ionic, of
the age of Pericles. Throughout the ex-terior,
the example followed is, so far as
the material used would permit, that of the
double temple of Minerva Polias and Erec-theus,
in the Acropolis of Athens. In the
interior, the proportions of the temple of
the Ilissus have been adopted. The first
temple stands unrivalled for the lightness
and grace of its columns, and the delicate
elegance of its ornaments, and the latter
is much celebrated for its chaste simplicity.
The three are confessedly among the most
beautiful Ionic specimens that have come
down to us of the exquisitely refined taste
of the Athenians.
Qn the same side of the square is the
Bank of the state of Georgia, a building
which both externally and internally adds
to the beauty and comfort of the city and
its inhabitants.
The plan of the city of Savannah has
been greatly admired by the many stran-gers
who have visited it ; and there is no
doubt that the squares are productive of
health, and contribute greatly to the ap-pearance
of the city.
LEGENDS RESPECTING TREES.
Like other natural objects of signal im-portance
to man, whether yielding food,
affording shelter, or simply conferring
loveliness on the landscape, trees, in the
earlier stages of society, have uniformly
been the fertile subjects of poetical and
mythological allusion. Many of the pret-tiest
legends of heathen antiquity, as well
as of our Christian progenitors, relate to
trees ; while poets, in all countries and
ages, have borrowed from them their most
LEGENDS RESPECTING TREES,
brilliant imagery and comparisons. With-out
inquiring into the causes of these varied
allusions, we intend to present the reader
with a few of the more remarkable legends.
The White Poplar, according to ancient
mythology, was consecrated to Hercules,
because he destroyed Cacus in a cavern
of Mount Aventine, which was covered
with these trees ; and in the moment of
his triumph, bound his brow with a branch
of one as a token of his victory. When
he descended into the infernal regions, he
also returned with a wreath of white pop-lar
round his head. It was this, says the
fable, that made the leaves of the color
they are now. The perspiration from the
hero's brow made the inner part of the
leaf white ; while the smoke of the lower
regions turned the upper surface of the
leaves almost black. Persons sacrificing
to Hercules were always crowned with
branches of this tree ; and all who had
gloriously conquered their enemies in bat-tle
wore garlands of it, in imitation of
Hercules. It is said that the ancients
consecrated the white poplar to Time, be-cause
the leaves are in continual agitation
;
and being of a blackish green on one side,
with a thick white cotton on the other,
these were supposed to indicate the alter-nation
of day and night.
The Black Poplar is no less celebrated
in fable than its congener above-mentioned.
According to Ovid, when Phaethon bor-rowed
the chariot and horses of the sun,
and, by his heedless driving, set half the
world on fire, he was hurled from the
chariot by Jupiter into the Po, where he
was drowned ; and his sisters, the Heli-ades,
wandering on the banks of the river,
were changed into trees—supposed by
most commentators to be poplars. The
evidence in favor of the poplar consists in
there being abundance of black poplars
on the banks of the Po ; in the poplar, in
common with many other aquatic trees, be-ing
so surcharged with moisture, as to have
it exuding through the pores of the leaves,
which may thus literally be said to weep ;
and in there being no tree on which the
sun shines more brightly than on the black
poplar, thus still showing gleams of paren-tal
affection to the only memorial left of
the unhappy son whom his own fondness
had contributed to destroy.
The Apple-Tree, so singularly connected
with the first transgression and fall of
man, is distinguished alike in the mythol-ogies
of the Greeks, Scandinavians, and
Druids. The golden fruits of the Hes-perides,
which it was one of the labors of
Hercules to procure, in spite of the sleep-less
dragon which guarded them, were be-lieved
by the pagans to be apples. Her-cules
was worshipped by the Thebans
under the name of Melius ; and apples
were offered at his altars. The origin of
this custom was the circumstance of the
river Asopus having on one occasion over-flowed
its banks to such an extent, as to
render it impossible to bring a sheep
across it which was to be sacrificed to
Hercules, when some youths, recollecting
that an apple bore the same name as a
sheep in Greek (melon), offe) ed an apple,
with four little sticks stuck in it, to resem-ble
legs, as a substitute for sheep ; and af-ter
that period, the pagans always consid-ered
the apple as especially devoted to
Hercules. In the Scandinavian Edda, we
are told that the goddess Iduna had the
care of apples which had the power of
conferring immortality, and which were
consequently reserved for the gods, who
ate of them when they began to feel them-selves
growing old. The evil spirit, Loke,
took away Iduna and her apple-tree, and
hid them in a forest, where they could not
be found by the gods. In consequence
of this malicious theft, everything went
wrong in the world. The gods became
old and infirm ; and, enfeebled both in
body and in mind, no longer paid the same
attention to the afi*airs of the earth, and
men having no one to look after them, fell
into evil courses, and became the prey of
the evil spirit. At length the gods, find-ing
matters get worse and worse every
day, roused their last remains of vigor,
and combining together, forced Loke to
restore the tree.
The Druids paid particular reverence to
the apple-tree, because the mistletoe was
supposed to grow only on it and the oak,
and also on account of the usefulness of
its fruit. In consequence of this feeling,
the apple was cultivated in Britain from
the earliest ages of which we have any
record ; and Glastonbury was called the
apple orchard, from the quantity of apples
LEGENDS RESPECTING TREES.
grown there previous to the time of the
Romans. Many old rites and ceremonies
are therefore connected with this tree,
some of which are practised in the orchard
districts even at the present day. " On
Christmas eve," says Mrs. Bray, " the far-mers
and their men in Devonshire take a
large bowl of cider, with a toast in it, and
carrying it in state to the orchard, they
salute the apple-trees with much ceremony,
in order to make them bear well next sea-son.
This salutation consists in throwing
some of the cider about the roots of the
tree, placing bits of the toast on the
branches, and then forming themselves in-to
a ring, they, like the bards of old, set
up their voices and sing a song, which
may be found in Brand's Popular Antiqui-ties.
In Hone's Every-Day Book, this
custom is mentioned, but with some slight
variation.
The wassail bowl, drunk on All Hallow
E'en, Twelfth Day Eve, Christmas Eve,
and on other festivals of the church, was
compounded of ale, sugar, nutmeg, and
roasted apples, which every person par-took
of, each taking out an apple with the
spoon, and then drinking out of the bowl.
Sometimes the roasted apples were bruised
and mixed with milk or white wine in-stead
of ale ; and in some parts of the
country apples were roasted on a string,
till they dropped off into a bowl of spiced
ale beneath, which was called LarnVs
Wool. The reason of this name, which
is common to all the compounds of apples
and ale, is attributed by Vallancey to its
being drunk on the 31st of October, All
Hallow E'en ; the first day of November
being dedicated to the angel presiding
over fruit, seeds, &c., and therefore named
La Mas TJbhal, that is, the day of the ap-ple-
fruit, and this being pronounced lamo-sool,
soon became corrupted by the Eng-lish
into lamb's wool. Apples were blessed
by the priests on the 25th of July, and an
especial form for this purpose is preserved
in the manual of the church of Sarum.
The custom of bobbing for apples on
All Hallow E'en, and on All Saints Day,
which was formerly common over all
England, and is still practised in some
parts of Ireland, has lately been rendered
familiar by M'Clise's masterly painting of
the Sports of All Hallow E'en. A kind
of hanging-beam, which was continually
turning, was suspended from the roof of
the room, and an apple placed at one end,
and a lighted candle at the other. The
parties having their hands tied behind
them, and being to catch the apple with
their mouths, frequently caught the candle
instead. In Warwickshire, apples are tied
to a string, and caught at in the same man-ner,
but the lighted candle is omitted ; and
in the same county children roast apples on
a string on Christmas Eve ; the first who
can catch an apple, when it drops from
the string, getting it. In Scotland, apples
are put into a tub of water, and then bob-bed
for with the mouth.
The Ash, according to heathen mythol-ogy,
furnished the wood of which Cupid
made his arrows, before he had learned to
adopt the more fatal cypress. In the
Scandinavian Edda, it is stated that the
court of the gods is held under a mighty
ash, the summit of which reaches the
heavens, the branches overshadow the
whole earth, and the roots penetrate to the
infernal regions. An eagle rests on its
summit, to observe everything that passes,
to whom a squirrel constantly ascends to
report those things which the exalted bird
may have neglected to notice. Serpents
are twined round the trunk, and from the
roots there spring two limpid fountains, in
one of which wisdom lies concealed, and
in the other a knowledge of the things to
come. Three virgins constantly attend
on this tree, to sprinkle its leaves with
water from the magic fountains, and this
water, falling on the earth in the shape of
dew, produces honey. Man, according to
the Edda, was formed from the wood of
this tree. Ancient writers of all nations
state that the serpent entertains an extra-ordinary
respect for the ash. Pliny says
that if a serpent be placed near a fire, and
both surrounded by ashen twigs, the ser-pent
will sooner run into the fire than pass
over the pieces of ash ; and Dioscorides
asserts that the juice of ash leaves, mixed
with wine, is a cure for the bite of that
reptile.
The Oak appears early to have been an
object of worship among the Celts and an-cient
Britons. Under the form of this
tree the Celts worshipped their god Tuet,
and the Britons Tarnawa, their god of
LEGENDS RESPECTING TREES.
thunder. Baal, the Cehic god *f fire,
whose festival (that of Yule) was kept at
Christmas, was also worshipped under the
semblance of an oak. The Druids pro-fessed
to maintain perpetual fire ; and
once every year all the fires belonging to
the people were extinguished, and re-lighted
from the sacred fire of their priests.
This was the origin of the Yule log, with
which, even so lately as the middle of
last century, the Christmas fire, in some
parts of the country, was always kindled ;
a fresh log being thrown on and lighted,
but taken off before it was consumed, and
reserved to kindle the Christmas fire of
the following year. The Yule log was
always of oak, and as the ancient Britons
believed that it was essential for their
hearth-fires to be renewed every year
from the sacred fire of the Druids, so their
descendants thought that some misfortune
would befall them if any accident hap-pened
to the Yule log.
The worship of the Druids was gen-erally
performed under an oak, and a heap
of stones or cairn was erected on which
the sacred fire was kindled. Before the
ceremony of gathering the mistletoe, the
Druids fasted for several days, and offered
sacrifices in wicker baskets or frames,
which, however, were not of willow, but
of oak twigs curiously interwoven, and
were similar to that still carried by Jack-in-
the-green on May-day, which, accord-ing
to some, is a relic of Druidism. The
well-known chorus of " Hey, derry down,"
accordmg to Professor Burnet, was a
Druidic chant, signifying literally, " In a
circle the oak move around." Criminals
were tried under an oak-tree ; the judge,
with the jury, being seated under its
shade, and the culprit placed in a circle
made by the chief Druid's wand. The
Saxons also held their national meetings
imder an oak, and the celebrated confer-ence
between the Saxons and the Britons,
after the invasion of the former, was held
under the oaks of Dartmoor.
The Mistletoe, particularly that which
grows on the oak, was held in great ven-eration
by the Britons. At the beginning
of their year, the Druids went in solemn
procession into the forests, and raised a
grass altar at the foot of the finest oak, on
which they inscribed the names of those
crods which were considered as the most
powerful. After this the chief Druid,
clad in a white garment, ascended the tree,
and cropped the mistletoe with a conse-crated
golden pruning-hook, the other
Druids receiving it in a pure white cloth,
which they held beneath the tree. The
mistletoe was then dipped in water by the
principal Druid, and distributed among the
people, as a preservative against witch-craft
and diseases. If any part of the
plant touched the ground, it was consid-ered
to be the omen of some dreadful mis-fortune
which was about to fall upon the
land. The ceremony was always per-formed
when the moon was six days old,
and two Avhite bulls were sacrificed at the
conclusion. In Scadinavian mythology,
Loke, the evil spirit, is said to have made
the arrow with which he wounded Balder
(Apollo), the son of Friga (Venus), of
mistletoe branches. Balder was charmed
against injury from everything which
sprang from fire, earth, air, and water
;
but the mistletoe, springing from neither,
was found to be fatal, and Balder was not
restored to the world till by a general ef-fort
of the other gods. The magical prop-erties
of the mistletoe are mentioned
both by Virgil and Ovid. In the dark
ages a similar belief prevailed ; and even
to the present day the peasants of Hol-stein,
and some other countries, call the
mistletoe the " spectre's wand," from the
supposition, that holding a branch of mis-tletoe
will not only enable a man to see
ghosts, but to force them to speak to him.
I The custom of kissing under the mistletoe
at Christmas has been handed down to us
by our Saxon ancestors, who, on the res-toration
of Balder, dedicated the plant to
their Venus (Friga), to place it entirely
under her control, and to prevent it from
being again used against her as an instru-ment
of mischief. In the feudal ages, it
was gathered with great solemnity on
Christmas Eve, and hung up in the great
hall with loud shouts and rejoicing :
—
" On Christmas eve the belJs were rwa^
;
On Christmas eve the mass was sung ;
That only n'srh' in all ihe year
Saw the stoltd priest th "• chalice near.
The damsel donned her Kirtle sheen ;
The hall was dressed with holly green :
Forth to me woods did merry men go,
To gather in the mistletoe.
EDUCATION—THE TEMPLE OF SOMNAUTH.
Then opened wide the baron's hall
To vassal, tenant, serf, and all."
The Holly, like some other evergreens,
has long been used at Christmas for orna-menting
churches and dwelling-houses.
It appears to have been first made use of
for this purpose by the early Christians at
Rome, and was probably adopted for dec-orating
the churches at Christmas, be-cause
holly was used in the great festival
of the Saturnalia, which occurred about
that period. It was customary among the
Romans to send boughs of holly, during
the Saturnalia, as emblematical of good
wishes, with the gifts they presented to
their friends at that season ; and the holly
came thus to be considered as an emblem
of peace and good-will. Whatever may
have been the origin of the practice of
decorating churches and houses with holly,
it is of great antiquity. In England, per-haps,
the earliest record of the custom is
in a carol in praise of holly, written in
the time of Henry VI., beginning with the
stanza
—
" Nay, ivy, nay. it shall not be. I wys ;
Let holly hafe the maystry [mastery,] as the
manner is.
Holy stonde in the halle, fayre to behold ;
Ivy stonde without the dore ; she is ful sore a-cold."
In illustration of which it must be observed
that the ivy, being dedicated to Bacchus,
was used as a vintner's sign in winter, and
hung outside the door. The disciples of
Zoroaster, the author of fire-worship, be-lieved
that the sun never shadows the
holly-tree ; and the followers of that phi-losopher,
who still remain in Persia and
India, are said to throw water impregnated
with holly bark in the face of a new-barn
child. In the language of flowers, the
holly is the symbol of foresight and cau-tion.
EDUCATION.
Every boy should have his head, his
heart, and his hand educated : let this
truth never be forgotten.
By the proper education of his head, he
will be taught what is good, and what is
evil—what is wise, and what is foolish
—
what is right, and what is wrong. By the
proper education of his heart he will be
taught to love what is good, wise, and
right ; and to hate what is evil, foolish,
and wrong ; and by the proper education
of his hand, he will be enabled to supply
his wants, to add to his comforts, and to
assi&t those that are around him.
The highest objects of a good education
are to reverence and obey God, and to
love and serve mankind : everything that
helps us in attaining these objects is of
great value, and everything that hinders us
is comparatively worthless. When wis-dom
reigns in the head, and love in the
heart, the hand is ever ready to do good ;
order and peace smile around, and sin and
sorrow are almost unknown.
THE TEMPLE OF SOMNAUTH.
Place me on Somnauth's* marbled steep,
Where nothing save the waves and 1
May hear our mutual murmurs weep,
There swan-like let me sing and die.
—
Byron.
Religion and learning have always se-lected
for their seats the most romantic
positions in every country in the world
;
and their professors seem to have been
possessed of every acquirement that could
render the combination of art and nature
beautiful and impressive. There is not a
conspicuous or picturesque hill, or rock, or
cape, of ancient Greece, that is not still
adorned with the classic remnants either
of a temple to the gods or a school of
philosophy ; and the extraordinary resem-blance
between the temple and promontory
of Sunium and those of Somnauth, sug-gested
our adaptation of Byron's memo-rable
apostrophe to fallen and neglected
Greece. It can not, however, escape the
observation of any one, the least acquaint-ed
with the history of the kingdoms of
Europe, how presumptuously forward the
pagan temple and the hall of a false phi-losopher
invariably stand—Juno, Diana,
and Minerva, generally fixing their thrones
upon the rocky capitol that overhangs the
city, while the noblest temples of Chris-
• Called also Someswar and Somanatha, from
Soma Natha, Lord of the Moon, one of the twelve
images of Siva, which, lil<e the Palladium of Troy,
or Ancile of the Romans, was said to have fiiUen
from heaven.
Temple of Somnauth.
Interior of the Temple.
tianity are modestly placed in the most se-questered
and secluded glens, remote from
every idle gaze, and imposing a species
of penance and pilgrimage on their vota-ries,
from the difficulty of discovering and
approaching them. How different the
haughty height at which the temple of
Capitoline Jove is elevated, from those
abodes of reflection, and solitude, and sad-ness,
where the lone aisles of Valle-Cru-cis,
and of Tintern, and of Furness, hide
their mouldering friezes ! Are not these
temples of worship in some degree em-blematical
of their respective faiths 1 Is
not ignorance always presumptuous—truth
and intelligence always modest ?
In the vicinity of the ancient city of
Pattan or Puttun, on a bold headland pro-jecting
into the Indian ocean, are the
stately ruins of the famous temple and
shrine of Somnauth.* The city having
been rebuilt after the Mahommedan con-quest,
partakes of the architectural style
of the spoilers ; but the Hindoo columns
and sculptures, and tablets, that every-where
appear incorporated with the walls
of Moorish mosques, proclaim how much
of their magnificence is traceable to the
primitive founders. The venerable shrine
of Somnauth, the noblest remains in the
peninsula of Saraustra, occupies the sum-mit
of the promontory at the southwest
angle of the city, looking down upon the
waters and upon the embattled walls. Al-though
much dilapidated, enough survives
to indicate the original design, as well as
the gorgeous style that pervaded it. The
principal front, which is of black marble,
and originally adorned with magnificent
sculptures, has a grand porch, or Subha,
on each side of which rise tapering min-arets
of Moorish origin, terminating in
• " Nothing can surpass the beauty of the site
chosen for the temple, which stands on a projecting
rock, whose base is washed by the ocean. Here,
resting on the slvirt of the mighty waters, the vision
is lost in their boundless expanse ; the votary would
be lulled to a blissful state of repose by the monot-onous
roar of the waves. Before him is the bay ex-tending
to Billawul, its golden sands kept in per-petual
agitation by the surf, in a bold and graceful
curvature. It is unrivalled in India, and although I
have since seen many noble bays from that of Pen-zance
to Salemum, perhaps the finest in the world,
with all its accessories of back-ground, and in all
the glory of a closing day, none ever struck my im-agination
more forcibly than that of Puttun."
—
Travels in Western India.
pine-shaped capitals, called Kullus, in
Hindoo architecture. From their dispro-portioned
height and excessive delicacy,
they have been compared not inaptly to
the horns of a beetle ; and, owing to a
lapse in the foundation, or some sudden
shock, one of them is now so much bent
as to threaten a speedy fall. Two rich
side-duors were approached by flights of
steps, the remains of which may still be
distinctly traced. The famous entrance,
the valves or gates of which are said to
have been carried away eight centuries
ago, by the victorious Mahmoud of Ghuz-nee,
and recently recovered by an Anglo-
Indian army, is perfectly Egyptian, nar-row
at the top and widening toward the
base ; and the broad lintels, richly carved
with leaves and flowers, that constitute
the principal ornaments around it, are ob-viously
of the same date, design, and ori-gin,
as the re-edification. Five domes
once rose majestically above these sculp-tured
walls, only two of which now re-main
; and the roof is supposed to have
sustained considerable injury from the con-duct
of a Nuwaub, who converted it into a
battery of heavy ordnance, for the protec-tion
of the harbor of Verawul against pi-ratical
intrusion. All approach to the
smaller subhas is completely interrupted
by fragments of pillars, broken cornices,
mutilated sculptures, and rude blocks of
stone, whose former positions it would be
now impossible to point out ; but the em-blems
graven on them obviously belong to
the worship of Siva, which succeeded
that of the sun, the earliest object of ado-ration
at this long-known scene of sanc-tity.
" I found the temple," says a Euro-pean
traveller, " deserted, desecrated, a
receptacle for kine, the pinnacle to its
spring from the cella demolished, and the
fragments strewing the ground." The ex-terior
circumference of the whole building
is 336 feet, its extreme length 117, and its
greatest breadth 74.
The interior consists of an entrance
vestibule, a hall or munduff, a second ves-tibule,
and a sanctuary—the whole sur-rounded
by a colonnade, beneath which
was a spacious ambulatory. The great
hall extends ninety-six feet in length, hav>-
ing a width of seventy, and includfes an
octagon, formed of pillars and architraves,
10 THE TEMPLE OF SOMNAUTH.
'i
collected from the fragments of the more
ancient edifice, and above this area rises
a splendid dome thirty-two feet in diame-ter,
and having a height of thirty feet from
the floor to the spring of the concave.
The sustaining pillars, which are all rich-ly
sculptured, and formerly adorned the
lesser suhhas and encircling colonnade,
proving unequal to the weight of the in-cumbent
dome and roof, would have sunk
under the load, had not vousoirs been in-troduced
to strengthen them. The stylo-bate
is divided into compartments, filled
with sculptured heads of horses, elephants,
griffins, bacchantes, belonging to the wor-ship
of Siva, and groups of nymphs en-gaged
in the mystic dance, typical of the
movements of the spheres. The floor
was pr-ved with black marble, but the flags
are much broken and injured, not by the
action of human feet in so many centuries
of time, but from the falling of large frag-ments
from the roof and dome. The sec-ond
vestibule, which was an interruption
of the grand colonnade, is now choked up
with rubbish and large masses of masonry
that have fallen into it, so that the cella,
or sanctum, a square chamber, twenty-three
feet in length by twenty in breadth,
is entered with much inconvenience. This
vestibule was formerly vaulted, and on
one of the supporting columns is an in-scription
recording the visit of a Hindoo
architect, some few centuries ago. The
recess appropriated to the idol, or image,
a symbolic lingam, or Phallus, is not now
distinguished ; but a niche in the western
wall, looking toward Mecca, indicates the
site of the Moslem rostrum which Mah-moud
" The Destroyer" had set up. The
remaining parts of the ponderous roof are
supported by rows of pilasters of various
shapes, fiat with brackets, and plain arch-itraves
; some of them are sculptured,
others plain ; and the latter are believed
to have been xiased with gilded copper,
and adorned with precious stones, in the
age of Mdhmoud Ghuznavi.
From the admijcture of Moorish with
Hindoo architecture observable here, the
transmutation which the fabric has under-gone
is clearly indicated—the "faithful"
not having taken much pains to obliterate
the former features of idolatrous worship.
The first appropriation of this very ancient
temple was most probably in honor of the
great luminary of our system—" Som-nauth,"
signifying " Lord of the Moon ;"
it was afterward a Buddhist temple ; but
a close examination of its ground plan, or
ichnographic section, clearly identifies it
with the worship of Siva, being precisely
similar to those of Lakhna Rana at Chee-tore,
and many other temples of that sect.
There is no doubt that the space now oc-cupied
by the Moorish dome, rising from
an octagonal pedestal, was once the mult-angular
base of a gigantic conical tower,
like those of Kamaruc, Juggemauth, Bho-baneswur,
and elsewhere on the Indian
continent, a shape common to all Brah-minical
temples in the present day. Upon
the conquest of India the famous temple
of Somnauth was converted into a Mus-jid
; the faithful were in their turn expel-led,
and the idolatry of the natives, with
British sanction, may be again revived, on
a spot that has been consecrated to divine
worship since the first records of history
—
perhaps of time.
It was soon after the year 1000, that
Mahmoud, sultan of Ghuzni, or Ghazni,
after the manner of Hercules, commenced
his twelve expeditions into Hindostan, and
it was in 1024 that he made that memora-ble
attack on Somnauth, which oriental
writers have commemorated in such glow-ing
language. His public pretext was the
acceptance of a challenge contained in an
ancient prediction, " that if ever a Mos-lem,
however powerful, should profane
the shrine of Somnauth with his presence,
he would instantly become the victim of
his presumption"—his private and real in-ducement
was, probably, the report of
boundless treasure which was to be foimd
there. Setting out with a native army
50,000 strong, with 30,000 Turkestan vol-unteers,
and 1,900 elephants, he soon ap-peared
before the walls of Puttun, and
summoned its inhabitants to surrender.
The city herald, however, quickly an-swered
that " their idol had brought the
Moslems there for the purpose of con-
\
founding and delivering them into the
hands of their enemies." Perceiving that
surrender was not probable, Mahmoud
caused a general assault to be made,
which had the effect of thinning the walls
of their defenders, and producing much
THE TEMPLE OF SOMNAUTH. 11
consternation among the inhabitants. The
latter liad recourse to their idol, and, dur-ing
the time of their prostration before it,
the enemy made a second attack, more
vigorous than the first, and attempted to
scale the walls. Disturbed and dismayed
by loud shouts of Allah ! Allah ! Allah
!
they hastened from the temple to the ram-parts,
and by the most determined efforts
succeeded in repelling the besiegers. In
all momentous events the number three
appears to be associated with the success
of one party or ruin of the other ; and it
was on the third day, and when Mahmoud
was about to make a third assault, that an
army coming to relieve the city appeared
in sight. The sultan boldly advanced and
gave them battle ; but perceiving a crisis,
when victory seemed for an instant doubt-ful,
he sprang from his horse, prostrated
himself on the earth, and implored the fa-vor
of his prophet. The effect of this im-posing
spectacle upon his troops was im-mediate,
and such as he anticipated : re-turning
to the fight with loud shouts and
renewed courage, they fell with fury on
the Hindoos, nor desisted before they laid
10,000 dead upon the field, and put the
remainder to shameful flight. A defeat so
complete destroyed the hopes of the be-sieged,
who now abandoned their homes,
and sought safety by retreat, some escaping
overland, others taking to their boats ; both
parties, however, being pursued, and un-sparingly
butchered by the victors.
The conqueror entered the city in tri-umph,
and advancing to the object rather
of his cupidity than his glory, beheld a
superb structure, sustained by fifty-six pil-lars,
each the pious offering of a rajah.
Approaching the great stone idol, he aim-ed
a blow with his iron mace at its head,
but, missing the precise spot, struck off a
piece of the nose. The fragment, by his
order, was separated into two parts, and
carried to Ghuzni, where one of them was
placed in the threshold of the great mosque,
and the other at the entrance to his own
palace. Two more fragments, subsequent-ly
knocked off, were forwarded to Me-dina
and to Mecca. Hindoo writers deny
these statements, and assert that the idol,
aware of the violent disposition of Mah-moud
and his mercenary motives, on the
fall of Puttun, retired into the ocean. The
trembling Brahmins are said to have of-fered
ten millions sterling if the conqueror
would spare the idol, urging that the de-struction
of an image of stone would not
convert the hearts of the Gentoos, and
that the sum they promised might be ded-icated
to the relief of the faithful. " Your
arguments," replied the sultan, " are spe-cious
and strong; but I am desirous of
being looked on by the eyes of posterity
as a destroyer of idols, not as a dealer in
them." Repeating his blows, one of them
broke open the belly of the image, which
was hollow, and disclosed a quantity of
diamonds and rubies and pearls, of far
greater value than the ransom offered by
the Brahmins—explaining very sufficient-ly
their devout prodigality. Some esti-mate
of the treasures of Somnauth may
be formed from the extent of its posses
sions, and multitude of attendants. It was
endowed with a revenue of two thousand
villages ; two thousand Brahmins were
consecrated to the service of the deity,
whom they washed each morning and
evening in water brought from the distant
Ganges ; the subordinate ministers con-sisted
of three hundred musicians, three
hundred barbers, and five hundred dancing-girls,
conspicuous for their birth and beau->
ty. Among the spoils carried to Ghuzni
was a chain of gold, 400lbs. in weight,
which hung by a ring from the roof of the
building, and supported a great bell used
for summoning the people to prayer ; be-side
some thousands of images, of various
shapes and sizes, all made of gold and
silver.* Having annihilated, as he sup-posed,
the whole fraternity of Somnauth
priests, Mahmoud turned his steps toward
his native land ; but being led by his
guide through a desert of burning sands,
his troops began to fall around him, vic-tims
to thirst and phrensy. Suspecting the
fidelity of his conductor, he caused him to
be put to the torture, and, by these cruel
means, extorted a confession, that, being
the only survivor of the sacrilegious mas-sacre
at Somnauth, and having nothing
• Oriental mythologists attribute to the idol Som-nauth
the privilege of adjudging to departed souls
the bodies appointed for their future residence, ac-cording
to the doctrine of transmigration. The
same writers consider the ebb and flow of the ocean
as nothing more than a mark of its adoration toward
their favorite idol.
12 THE TEMPLE OF SOMNAUTH.
more that was valuable in life, he resolved
if possible, to avenge the fall of his coun-trymen,
and die, if detected, in that glori-ous
effort.
Mahmoud left, as his viceroy at Som-nauth,
a prince named Dabishleen, who
restored the temple promptly, in consider-ation
of the vast revenue derivable from
its pilgrim-tax; and the poet Sadi, who
visited the shrine at least two centuries
after the sultan's death, gives the following
account of his adventure, in a poem com-mencing
with the words—" I saw an idol
at Somnauth, jewelled like the idol Munat
in the days of superstition and ignorance."
Wondering at the folly of live people pay-ing
adoration to a senseless and motion-less
mass of matter, Sadi ventured to ex-press
his sentiments to an attendant priest.
Enraged at the effrontery and impiety of
the poet, the reverend man summoned his
fraternity, and threatened immediate pun-ishment
if he did not retract his expres-sions
and acknowledge his crime. Sadi
very artfully extricated himself by aver-ring
that he only uttered such doubts for
the purpose of giving the priests an op-portunity
of more fully confirming his be-lief
in their idol. This was readily prom-ised
; but, in order to enjoy the great pre-rogative,
it was necessary that Sadi should
continue in the act of worship during the
whole night, and at morning he would
perceive the idol raise one of its arms in
the act of supplication. Just before sun-rise,
at the sound of a deep-toned bell,
the idol raised its monstrous arm to
the inexpressible delight of worshipping
thousands, while Sadi, creeping behind
the image, discovered a servitor concealed,
and tugging manfully at the rope which
regula,ted the miraculous movement. The
convicted servitor fled, but was pursued by
Sadi, M*iio now felt that his life would in-evitably
be forfeited should the priesthood
lay hold of him ; so, coming up with his
victim, he pitched him head foremost into
a well, and threw in after him several
ponderous stones. Escaping from Som-nauth
and from Hindu, Sadi returned to
Persia, and published the disgrace of the
" Lord of the Moon."
The situation of Somnauth has occa-sioned
its comparison with the temple of
the Sun at Kotah, called the Black Pago-da,
which also stands upon a promontory
washed by the waves of the eastern sea,
in the bay of Bengal ; and Asoka^s selec-tion
of rocks on the high road to each, for
the promulgation of his edicts, would
seem to indicate that both enjoyed in his
day a corresponding celebrity ; and that,
from the great resort of pilgrims, the ap-proaches
to them afforded the surest means
of causing his doctrines and injunctions to
be universally known.
Tradition alone asserts that the gates of
sandal-wood which hung at the principal
entrance of the temple, were carried away,
among the spoils or trophies of Mahmoud's
twelve expeditions, to Ghuznee, and ulti-mately
placed in the entrance to his grand
mausoleum, three miles distant from that
city. It can easily be understood, from
the least reflection upon the character of
the hero, why he would have plundered
the hoarded treasures of the temples, but
it does not so clearly appear, in the ab-sence
of all written record of the fact,
why a prince of such insatiable avarice
would have felt desirous of possessing
two wooden valves, and for no other pur-pose
than to adorn a tomb. The calcula-tions
and passions of the avaricious are
seldom extended to prospects beyond the
grave. That such was his real character
the concuiTent testimony of oriental wri-ters
establishes beyond all doubt. Gib-bon,
one of the most accurate as well as
eloquent historians, writes : " Avarice was
the only defect that tarnished the illustri-ous
character of Mahmoud the Ghuznevide,
and never has that passion been more
richly satiated. The orientals exceed the
measure of credibility in the amount of
millions of gold and silver, such as the
avidity of man has never accumulated
—
in the magnitude of pearls, diamonds, and
rubies, such as have^never been produced
by the workn mship of nature. Yet the
soil of Hindostan is impregnated with
precious mir.erals : her trade, in every
age, has attracted the gold and silver of
the world ; and her virgin spoils were
rifled by the first Mahometan conquer-ors.
His behavior, in the last days of his
life, evinces the vanity of these posses-sions,
so laboriously won, so dangerously
held, and so inevitably lost. He surveyed
the vast and various chambers of Ghuz-
NOTES ON THE NOSE. 13
nee—burst into tears-—and again closed
llie doors, without bestowing any portion
of the Avealth which he could no longer
hope to preserve. The following day he
reviewed the state of his military force
:
one hundred thousand foot, fifty-hve thou-sand
horse, and thirteen hundred elephants
of battle. He again wept at the instabil-ity
of human greatness ; and his grief was
embittered by the hostile progress of the
Turkmans, whom h-e had introduced into
the heart of his Persian kingdom."
If this great man of a little mind ever
carried away the worthless wooden gates
of Somnauth, they are believed to have
been set up in his grand muusoleum,
where the ii'on mace was deposited with
which he smote the Hindoo idol, aad
which " few men, such as mortals now
are, could wield, yet he wielded easily
and alone." It is no particular proof that
these famous doors wei'e originally at
Somnauth, and taken thence as military
spoils, that Runjeet Sing desired to pur-chase
them for Shah Soojah, for the bare
existence of a tradition, although unsup-ported
by history,wouldhave been reason
sufficient for such idolaters to act upon;*
When the British got possession of Mah-moud's
tomb no iron mace could be found,
nor did Major Hough ever see it, though
he speaks of it as having certainly ex-isted
; and as to the gates, the people of
Somnauth retain no legend of any soit
about them. Can it be possible, therefore,
that the governor-general of India has
congratulated the Hindoo people upon
recovering sacred relics ofwhich they had
never been possessed, and has risked his
high renown and learned reputation with
his counti-ymen upon a disputed point in
the ancient history of Asia ] But gates,
from immemorial time, appear to have
occasioned sorrow and disappointment to
some of the most illustrious characters in
the history of mankind, who had the for-tune
to make spoils or prizes of them.
The Philistines never forgave Samson
the abstraction of the gates of Gaza—
a
name marvellously resembling Gazni ; the
Romans exiled Camillus for secreting the
* The gates are twelve feet high, consist of four
leaves, on each of which has been discovered a Cu-phic
inscription, supposed to relate to their capture
by Mahmoud.
gates of Veil : the gates which Napoleon
saw cast and fashioned for his tomb now
lie neglected in the crypt of St. Denis, a
memorial of the early ruin of his power.
May the capture of the gates of Som-nauth
prove less luckless in its effects
than those celebrated historic parallels to
which we have here alluded !
A modern Somnauth, raised by the pious
mvmificence of Ahila Byhe, widow of a
prince of the Holkar family, occupies the
site of the more ancient temple here, de-stroyed
in the year 877, in which an im-age
of Siva is erected. This idol is wor-shipped
continually by the gentler sex,
and pilgrims pay a small tribute to the
Mussulman nabob for the permission ; so
that although the splendor of Somnauth is
extinguished, its reputation lives. Through
the interposition of the Bombay presiden-cy,
in the Junaghur state, greater liberty
was extended to Hindoo pilgrims ; and all
castes and classes of that people have
long exhibited a desire to extricate this
ancient and favorite shrine from Moham-medan
control.
IN^OTES ON THE NOSE.
Undoubtedly the most neglected and
ill-used part of the human face is the nose.
The poetical literature of all nations ex-tols
the other features : the eyes, for in-stance,
have furnished a theme for the
most sublime poetry ; cheeks, with their
witching dimples and captivating teints,
have drawn forth some of the finest sim-iles
that were ever invented ; and the rap-tures
which have been indited concerning
lips, it would take an age to enumerate.
The hair, also, has from time immemorial
been intensified into " silken tresses" in
printed, as well as manuscript verses ;
and " sonnets to a mistress's eyebrow"
are of continual occurrence ; but it may
be safely averred, that in the universal an-thology
of civilized or uncivilized man,
there is not to be found a truly sentimen-tal
effusion to a nose ! Indeed, so far
from exciting any of the graver emotions
of the mind, it would appear that there is
a hidden something in that feature to dead-
J
14 NOTES ON THE NOSE.
en, rather than to excite sentiment. The
cheeks, whether pale with care, or red
with blushing, strongly excite the sympa-thies
; a glance of the eye is all-powerful
in calling up the most vivid emotions ;
but who ever remembers any very intense
feeling being awakened by a twitch of the
nose 1 On the contrary, that unfortunate
feature seems to have been especially ap-propriated
by humorists to cut their jibes
upon. It has, from the earliest ages, been
made the subject of disparaging and spor-tive
remarks. It has been set up as a
mark to be hit by ridicule—as a butt for
the arrows of satire—as if it were an or-gan
proper to be played upon by nothing
but wit. We may grow eloquent con-cerning
eyes, speak raptures of lips, and
even sentimentalize upon chins, but the
bare mention of the nasal promontory is
certain to excite a smile. What the latent
quality may be which is so productive of
risibility in this instance, it seems diiBcult
to discover, for, in point of utility, the
physiologist will tell you that the nose is
quite on a par with the rest of the face.
To it the respiratory system owes the in-gress
and egress of a great portion of the
food of life—air. To it we are indebted
for the sense of smell. Moreover, it acts
as the emunctuary of the brain. In an
ornamental point of view, the physiogno-mist
declares that the nose is a main ele-ment
of facial beauty ; and without stop-ping
to inquire how very much this de-pends
upon its shape, we may just corrob-orate
the fact, by hinting the unpicturesque
effect which is produced by a countenance
that happens to be bereft of the nasal ap-pendage.
The authority of physiognomists may,
indeed, be almost taken without examina-tion
; for they are undoubtedly, of all con-noisseurs,
the greatest in noses. Their
prototypes, the augurs, went so far as to
judge of a man's character by the shape
of his nose ; and this has been in some
degree justified by a French writer, who
appears to be deeply versed in the sub-ject.
" Though," he asserts, " the organ
is only susceptible of a moderate degree
of action while the passions are agitating
the rest of the countenance, yet these lim-ited
motions are performed with great
ease." In addition to this, we find, Sir
Charles Bell remarking in his Anatomy
and Physiology of Expression, " that the
nostrils are features which have a power-ful
effect in expression. The breath be-ing
drawn through them, and their struc-ture
formed for alternate expansion and
contraction in correspondence with the
motions of the chest, they are an index
of the condition of respiration when af-fected
by emotion." The nose may there-fore
be regarded as somewhat indicative
of, and in harmony with, the character of
the individual.
It is probably by reason of this connex-ion
of the external nose with the internal
characteristics, that so many proverbs and
axioms have taken rise in reference to
both. Thus, the French say of a clever
rnan, that he has a " fine nose ;" of a pru-dent
one, that his is a " good nose ;" of a
proud man, that " he carries his nose in
the air." An inquisitive person is said to
" poke his nose everywhere." A gour-mand
is described as always having his
nose in his plate : that of the scholar is
declared to be always in his books. When
an individual is growing angry under prov-ocation,
the French also say, " the mus-tard
rises in his nose." Neither are we
in this country deficient of similar sayings.
A man, for instance, who does not form
very decisive opinions—who is swayed
more by the persuasions of others than by
his own judgment—is described as being
"led by the nose." The same is said
when any strong inducement turns a per-son
aside from a previously-formed inten-tion
; thus Shakspere :
—
" Though authority be a stubborn bear,
Yet he is often led by the nose with gold."
Individuals who are not blessed with much
acuteness or forethought, are said, " not
to see beyond their noses." Others who,
to do some injury to an enemy, injure
themselves, are declared " to cut ofi' the
nose to spite the face." The condition of
a supplanted rival is described as that of
a person who " has had his nose put out
of joint ;" with a hundred other proverbs
in which the nose takes a most prominent
part. All of these, it will be observed,
are of a comic cast ; while every simile
and allusion made to the eyes, the brow,
and the other features, is of the most se-rious
and poetical character. If, there-
NOTES ON THE NOSE. 15
fore, tlie ordinary organ considered and
alluded to in the abstract be provocative
of jocularity, in how much higher a de-gree
must it provoke the smiles of the
comically inclined when it happens to be
an oddly shaped or out-of-the-way nose 1 —when any of those very uncomplimen-tary
epithets, which have been invented to
designate different noses of all sorts and
sizes, can be emphatically applied to it
;
such as hook-nose, hatchet-nose, club-nose,
snub-nose, pug-nose, potato-nose,
peaked-nose, parrot's-nose, turned-up-nose,
or when it is figuratively termed a conq, a
snout, a proboscis—or, like the nose of
Slawkenbergius, a promontory. This, by
the way, brings to mind the etymology of
the word, which is in Saxon " ness,"
meaning also a point of land, as Strom-ness.
Blackness, and a hundred other
nesses or noses which mother earth pokes
out into the sea.
Of jests concerning eccentric noses, an
immense collection might be made ; but a
few of them will suffice, chiefly to show
to what a remote antiquity facetiae on
noses may be traced. One of the best is
attributed to the emperor Trajan, on a man
who had, besides a long nose, very large
teeth. It has been thus versified :
—
" Let Dick one summer's day expose
Before the sun his monstrous nose,
And stretch his giant mouth, to cause
Its shade to fall upon his jaws,
With nose so long, and mouth so wide,
And those twelve grinders side by side,
Dick, with very little trial,
Would make an excellent sun-dial."
The literal translation of this epigram-matic
extravaganza is—" Placing your
nose opposite to the sun, and opening
your mouth, you will show the hour to all
passengers." Another Greek poet de-scribes
a friend's nose as " being so im-mense,
that its distance from his ears pre-vents
him from hearing himself sneeze."
Castor's nose was said to be in itself all
the useful instruments of life—a spade, a
trumpet, an anchor, a pot-hook, &c.
Certain noses have, however, been cel-ebrated
in history, not as matters for jest,
but as distinguishable features belonging
to great men. The Romans had a proverb
which signifies, " it is not given to every
one to have a nose," meaning that it was
not the good fortune of all to exhibit a
marked and precise nasal individuality ;
to have, in fact, an expressive nose. The
individuals Avhose noses have lived in his-tory
were, it would seem, favored in this
particular. The great Cyrus had a long
sharp nose ; hence it is said that the noses
of all Persian princes are pinched by
bandages, that they may grow like their
great prototype in at least one particular.
Cicero was called the " orator with the
equivocal nose." Julius Csesar's was an
aquiline nose ; as was that of Aspasia, of
Paris, and of Achilles. The nose of Soc-rates
was a decided pug.
As a matter of taste and ornament, the
nose has engaged the attention and re-searches
of authors and artists in a promi-nent
degree. It has been truly remarked,
that the nose is a centre around which
the other portions of the face are arranged
and harmonized. It is, in a degree, the
regulator of the other features. Many cel-ebrated
artists estimate that its length
shoidd be a third of the length of the face,
from the tip of the chin to the roots of the
hair. If there be any deviation from this
rule, it must, it would appear, be in excess,
for all unite in preferring large to diminu-tive
noses. Plato called the aquiline the
royal nose ; and it is evident, from their
works, that none of the ancient masters of
sculpture and painting considered a liberal
allowance of nose as a deformity. Even
in a physical point of view, this excess
appears to be far from detrimental. " Give
me," said Napoleon, " a man with a good
allowance of nose. Strange as it may
appear, when I want any good head-work
done, I choose a man—provided his edu-cation
has been suitable—with a long
nose. His breathing is bold and free, and
his brain, as weU as his lungs and heart,
cool and clear. In. my observation of
men, I have almost invariably found a
long nose and a long head together."
Like this great general, the ancients enter-tained
a marked preference for an ample
nose ; but all beauty is relative, and taste
as capricious and varying as the winds.
Among the Kalmucks, a short dumpy
club-nose is considered the perfection of
beauty. The Hottentots press the noses
of their infants so as to flatten them ; and
the Chinese require a nose to be short and
thick, ere it can accord with their notions
of good form.
Among Europeans, the preference has
always been given to the straight, or Gre-cian
nose, as exhibited by the Venus de
Mcdicis. Sir Joshua Reynolds observes,
in his Essay on Beauty, that " the line
that forms the ridge of the nose is beauti-ful
when it is straight ; this, then, is the
central fonn which is oftener found than
either the concave, convex, or any other
irregular form that shall be proposed."
Opinions are, however, occasionally divi-ded
between this and the aquiline, or Ro-man
form of nose, especially for men.
Yet how much soever tastes may differ,
one fact is certain, that—with the excep-tion
of the Crim-''"artars, who formerly
broke their children's noses, because they
stood in the way of their eyes—all nations
consider this prominent feature a great or-nament.
It appears, then, that the nose differs
from all the other features in as far as it
is regarded by mankind in two entirely
different points of view, namely, as a thing
essentially ridiculous, and as a thing in-dispensable
to the beauty of the face, and
in itself ber utiful. Does not this curiously
show how near the whimsical and the se-rious
are to each other? We gaze with
pleasure on a female face which is set off
with a fine nose, and acknowledge the ef-fect
which that elegant object has in the
toute ensemble ; yet, if wishing to apos-trophize
this lady's beauty in the language
of the poet, we would allude to everything
except the nose. On that point, not a
word ! It would at once mar the effect
of the whole. Why is this 1 Because,
in general, we associate only ridiculous
ideas with the nose. And what, again, is
the cause of this ridicule ? Alas ! good
reader, I fear it must be traced to some
of the useful functions, served by the or-gan.
Man strains after the fine, which
flies from him ; the useful is his willing
drudge, and he laughs at it. If the nose
were of as little service to us as the
cheeks, it would doubtless be as much,
and as undividedly, admired.
A good education is a better safeguard
for liberty than a standing army or severe
laws.
DOMESTIC ENTERTAINMENTS
OF ANCIENT TIMES.
The paintings on the Egyptian tombs,
referring to a period some four thousand
years bypast, give us a curious and per-fect
idea of the nature of domestic enter-tainments
in that interesting country, the
nurse of human civilization. The Egyp-tian
houses of the better class were usually
built in the form of a square, having a
large court in the centre, with a well and
rows of trees. The rooms opened into
the main court, or into a small court be-tween
the buildings along the sides, and
were lavishly decorated with paintings,
while the furniture, chairs, tables, and the
like, were of fine wood, inlaid with ivory,
and covered with leather or rich stuffs,
and were not to be excelled in beauty and
convenience by the most luxuriously form-ed
articles of the kind in modern times.
" In their entertainments," says Mr. Wil-kinson,
" they aopear to have omitted
nothing which could promote festivity and
the amusement of the guests. Music,
songs, dancing, buffoonery, feats of agility,
or games of chance, were generally intro-duced,
and they welcomed them with all
the luxuries which the cellar and the table
could afiord. The party, when invited to
dinner, met about mid-day, and they ar-rived
successively in their chariots, in
palanquins borne by their servants, or on
foot." Many pasages in the sacred wri-tings
show how closely the manners of
the Jews had concurred with those of the
Egyptians. We hear of the " harp and
the viol, the tabret and the pipe," at the
feasts of the Jews, and are also told that
they " dined at noon." An Egyptian
painting shows us the arrival of a chariot
at a house of feasting, with a footman
knocking at the door, just as might be
done now-a-days at the west-end of Lon-don.
As was the case with the Jews,
water was brought to the guests to wash
their feet, if they desired it ; their hands
were always washed before dinner. The
head of each guest was also anointed
with a sweet-scented oil or ointment,
necklaces and garlands of lotus-flowers,
sacred in the eyes of the Egyptians, were
thrown around the brows and neck, and
every guest received a flower to hold in
DOMESTIC ENTERTAINMENTS OF ANCIENT TIMES. 17
his left hand during the feast. The
Greeks, who derived most of their cus-toms
from Egypt, also presented water to
their guests, and decked them with flow-ers,
as appears from many passages in
Homer, and other authorities ; and the
Romans took the same customs from the
Greeks. Like the Greeks, the Egyptians
considered it a want of good breeding to
sit down immediately to dinner, but the
" melancholy interval," felt sorely to this
day, was enlivened by wine, which the
servants poured from vases into cups for
the use of the guests. The Chinese, at
the present time, offer wine to all guests
as they arrive. The Egyptians, at the
same interval, kept up a continuous flow
of music. " In the meantime," says Mr.
Wilkinson, drawing his statements from
actual representations in the paintings,
" the kitchen presented an animated scene
;
and the cook, with many assistants, was
engaged in m.aking ready for dinner ; an
ox, kid, wild goat, gazelle, or ozyx, and a
quantity of geese, ducks, widgeons, quails,
or other birds, were obtained for the occa-sion."
Mutton, it is supposed, was un-lawful
food to the inhabitants of the The-bais.
Beef and goose constituted the
staple animal food ; and vegetables of all
kinds, with fish, were largely used. At
the party, men and women mixed together
at the same table, a privilege not conceded
to females among the Greeks, except with
near relations ; and this argues a higher
degree of advancement in Egyptian civil-ization.
With the Romans, it was cus-tomary
for women to sit with the men,
and Cornelius Nepos ridicules the Greeks
on this point. " Which of us, Romans,"
says he, " is ashamed to bring his wife to
an entertainment?" The Egyptians sat
either on chairs or stools at meals, or on
the ground, resting on one limb bent im-der
them, with the other raised angularly.
The Greeks and Romans did not take
from Egypt the custom of reclining on
couches at table. The Egyptians ate with
their fingers, the meat being carved to
them upon platters resting on small round
tables. From the statement that Joseph
ate apart while his brethren were present,
and arranged them, " the firstborn accord-ing
to his birthright, and the youngest ac-cording
to his youth," we may conclude
that an etiquette relative to rank and age
was preserved in Egypt. After the solid
repast, fruits, and especially figs, grap"'^^
and dates, were served ; and, at the close
of all, the guests again washed their hands —an operation, indeed, almost indispen-sable
previously to the use of knives and
forks, or even of chopping-sticks like
those of China.
While the paintings show the whole
modes of preparing for an Egyptian en-tertainment,
from the killing of the animal
to its production on the table, they also
show very curiously that excesses in wine
occasionally followed. One painting ex-hibits
individuals—ladies, we fear—in, a
state of unquestionable ebriety ; and an-other
pictures a person in the act of being
carried home in a similar condition. But
it would be wrong to charge them with
habitual over-indulgence ; and, mdeed, a
strange custom mentioned by Plutarch
militates strongly against such a supposi-tion.
They were in the habit, at the end
of feasts, of introducing a figure of Osiris,
in the form of a mummy, on a bier, and
showing it to each guest, while an attend-ant
took care to lecture upon it as a me-mento
of mortality, and the transitory na-ture
of human pleasures. The Greeks
perverted similar exhibitions to a purpose
not dreamed of by the Egyptians. Pe-tronius
tells us, that at an entertainment
where he was present, a finely-jointed
silver model of a man was displayed, on
which Trimalchio cried out, " Alas, un-happy
lot ! Such as this we shall by-and-by
be ; therefore, while we are allowed
to live, let us live."
In the very early ages of Greece, a
breakfast, and a meal after labor formed
the diet of the day ; but four meals were
takeiWn later times, the principal one be-ing
three or four hours after noon. The
bath was almost universally used before
meals ; and the anointing which followed,
was most probably to close the pores, or
preserve the skin from roughness. The
guests were ofl"ered all these conveniences
by the host previous to an entertainment.
At table, they sat occasionally upon chairs
with inclined backs, but much more fre-quently
upon couches, as did also the Ro-mans.
It was at first an honor to be al-lowed
to enjoy the luxury of the couch.
18 VILLAGES OF NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS.
In Macedonia, no man was allowed so to
sit until he had killed a boar by the prow-ess
of his arms. The manner of lying at
meat was this : the table was placed in the
centre, and around it the couches covered
with tapestry, upon which the guests lay,
leaning upon their left arras, with their
limbs stretched out at length. In Greece,
three, four, and five persons lay on one
couch, the legs of the first being stretched
out behind the second, and the head of the
latter in front of the former's breast, and
so on. This custom was decidedly of east-ern
origin. That it prevailed among the
Jews, may be inferred from the position of
the beloved disciple resting on the bosom of
our Savior at the celebration of thepassover.
In Persia, and other eastern countries, a
similar mode of sitting at table prevailed
from the earliest times. The place of
honor at these entertainments wag not
everywhere the same. In Persia and
Rome, the middle was the place of honor ;
in Greece, the first or nearest the table.
Men were careful of precedency in
Greece ; and at Timon's famous dinner,
we find a haughty noble retiring because
no place was fit for him. Couches, made
for individuals, were a refinement of the
Romans. Both in Greece and Rome, ta-bles
were usually made either round or
oval, and the couches curved to suit them.
The table was accounted a very sacred
thing, and the statues of the gods were
placed upon it. Before any portion of the
food was tasted, it was universally the
custom to ofler a part to the gods as the
first fruits ; and even in the heroic ages,
Achilles, when roused suddenly, would
not eat till the oblation was made. In
Greece, all the guests at a paity were
appareled in white ; in Rome, the same
custom was prevalent; and Cicero charges
it as a sin against Verres that he appeared
at supper in black. Three courses, the
first consisting of light herbs, eggs, oys-ters,
and such-like whets ; the second of
the solid meats ; and the third of the des-sert,
formed the repast, which being done,
the gods were thanked, and the great af-ter-
business of a set entertainment was
drinking ; for any food taken afterward
was scarcely to be called a meal. That
the Greeks drank deeply, many historians
prove ; and, above all, is the fact estab-lished
in the annals of Alexander the
Great. That conqueror himself pledged
his friend Proteas in a cup containing two
congii (somewhat less than a gallon), and
Proteas did the same. It was in attempt-ing
to repeat the pledge, that Alexander,
it is said caught his fatal illness.
VILLAGES OP
NORTH AMEEICAN INDIANS.
The accompanying cut is from an ori-ginal
drawing by Mr. Catlin, who has
probably seen more of the native tribes
of North America than any other white
man. His very interesting North Ameri-can
museum, formerly of this city, and
which was recently exhibited in London,
was collected during an intercourse of up-ward
of seven years with nearly fiifty dif-ferent
tribes. A more complete view of
the life and habits of a people was never
before presented to the eye. Nothing ap-parently
can arrest the destruction of im-civilized
races of men when their territory
is invaded by the civilized. The plough-man
and the hunter have interests so dif-ferent,
that either the one or the other
must prevail ; and all experience has
shown that when the cultivator has once
taken his stand, there he will maintain his
conquest over the soil. Mr. Catlin in-forms
us, that out of the 400,000 red men
in North America, three fourths are de-pendant
for food on the herds of buffalo on
the western side of the Alleganies, and
he expresses an opinion than in eight or
ten years these animals will have become
so scarce that it will be difficult for the
tribes to find the means of subsistence.
Indeed, so various are the uses of the buf-falo
to the Indians, that any great diminu-tion
in the number of these animals must
have considerable effect upon their habits,
and render it necessary for them to devise
new means of supplying many of their
wants. Mr. Catlin says : " The robes
of the animals are worn by the Indians
instead of blankets ; their skins, when
tanned, are used as coverings for their
lodges and for their beds ; undressed, they
are used for constructing canoes, for sad-
7,
'''#"
20 VILLAGES OP NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS.
dies, bridles, halters, lassos, and thongs.
The horns are shaped into ladles and
spoons ; the brains are used for dressing
the skins ; their bones are used for saddle-trees,
for war-clubs, and scrapers for grain-ing
the robes. The sinews are used for
strings and backs to their bows, for thread
to string their beads and sew their dresses.
The feet of the animals are boiled, with
their hoofs, for glue, with which they fast-en
their arrow-points and use for various
purposes. The hair from the head and
shoulders, which is long, is twisted and
braided into halters, and the tail is used
for a fly-brush."
The Oneidas, Iroquois, Senecas, and
Onondagas, who inhabited that portion of
the continent which is now covered with
cities and thriving settlements, are now
little more than historical names, as these
powerful tribes have disappeared. Civil-ization
swept them away, because it com-mimicated
to them only its vices and dis-eases.
Even within the last six years, a
very interesting tribe, the Ma.ndans, has
become extinct throug-h the ravages of the
small-pox. When Mr. Catlin visited them
they had two villages, about two miles
from each other, containing about one
thousand souls each. When the disease
was first introduced among them, the Man-dans
were surrounded by several war-par-ties
of the Sioux, and they were therefore
confined closely to their villages. The
disorder was so malignant that many died
a few hours after being attacked. The
accounts given to Mr. Catlin state, that so
slight were the hopes of the poor people
when once attacked, that " nearly half of
them destroyed themselves with their
knives or guns, or by leaping head-fore-most
from a thirty-foot ledge of rocks in
front of their village." The chief, a man
who possessed in an eminent degree all
the virtues of the savage, recovered from
the attack. " He sat in his wigwam and
watched every one of his family die about
him; his wives and his little children :
when he walked round the village and
wept over the final destruction of his tribe —his warriors all laid low : returning to
his lodge, he laid his family in a pile
and covered them with several robes
;
and, wrapping one round himself, went
out upon a hill at a little distance, where
he remained several days, determined to
starve himself to death. Here he re-mained
till the sixth day, when he had
just strength enough to creep back to his
village and enter into his own wigwam.
Then lying down by the side of his family,
he perished of hunger, on the ninth day
after he had first left it."
To return, however, to the subject of
the cut. " The Crows," Mr. -Catlin says,
" make the most beautiful lodges of any
of the North American tribes." The ex-terior
consists of buffalo hides sewed to-gether,
and sometimes dressed as white
as linen. They are picturesquely orna-mented
with porcupine quills, fringed with
scalp-locks, and gayly painted. Perhaps
there is on one side a picture of the Great
Spirit, and on the opposite side one of the
Evil Spirit. In some as many as forty
men can dine, and the height of those of
the better sort is twenty-five feet. It is
supported by about thirty poles of pine-wood.
The Sioux construct their lodges
in a similar manner. The manner in
which the wigwams of a whole village,
consisting perhaps of six hundred habita-tions,
are simultaneously struck, is a very
singidar scene. The chief sends his run-ners
or criers through the village to give a
notice of his intention to march in a few
hours, and the hour fixed upon. In the
meantime preparations are making, and as
soon as the lodge of the chief is seen
flapping in the wind, from some of the
poles having been taken down, the exam-ple
is followed instantly. In a few mo-ments
the chief's lodge is levelled with
the ground, and immediately all the other
wigwams are struck. The horses and
dogs are then loaded in the following
manner : " The poles of a lodge are di-vided
into two bundles, and the small
ends of each are fastened upon the shoul-ders
of a horse, leaving the butt ends to
drag on the ground on either side. Just
behind the horse a brace or pole is tied
across, which keeps the poles in their
proper places. The lodge or tent, which
is rolled up, and also numerous other arti-cles
of household and domestic furniture,
are placed on the poles behind the horse
and upon his back, and ou the top of all
two, three, and even sometimes four
women and cliildren. Each one of these
Ik^
VILLAGES OF NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS. 21
horses has a conductress, who sometimes
walks before and leads him with a tre-mendous
pack upon her back. In this
way five or six hundred wigwams, with
all their furniture, may be seen drawn out
for miles, creeping over the grass-covered
plain ; and three times that number of
men, on good horses, strolling in front or
on the flank, and in some tribes in the
rear. At least five times that number of
dogs fall into the rank, and follow in the
train and company of the women ; and
every cur of them who is large enough,
and not too cunning to be enslaved, is en-cumbered
with a sort of sledge on which
he drags his load—a part of the house-hold
goods and furniture of the lodge to
which he belonjrs."
One of -the Mandan villages which Mr.
Catlin visited, was admirably selected on
an angle of land forty or fifty feet above
the bed of a river, so that the base of the
angle toward the town was the only part
requiring protection, the two sides being
flanked by the river, with its banks of
nearly solid rock. The base was defend-ed
by a stockade of timbers of a foot or
more in diameter, and eighteen feet high,
at sufficient distances to admit of the de-fenders
discharging their weapons be-tween
them. The ditch, of three or four
feet in depth, was on the inward side of
the village. The lodges were closely
grouped together, with just room enough
to walk or ride between them. They
were all of a circular form, and from forty
to sixty feet in diameter, and within were
neat and comfortable. The walls were
firmly constructed with timbers of eight
or nine inches in diameter, and six feet
high, standing closely together, and sup-ported
on the outside- by an embankment
of mud. Then resting on these timbers
v/ere as many more, each about twenty-five
feet in height, which were inclined at
an angle of forty-five degrees, leaving an
aperture at the apex of three or four feet
wide for a chimney and a skylight. The
roof is supported by timbers in the interior
of the lodge. Outside, the roof is covered
with a mat of willow boughs of half a foot
or more in thickness, on which the earth
is spread to the depth of two or three feet,
which is covered with a clay that soon
nardens and becomes impervious to water
The top of the lodge is the grand lounge
of the whole family in pleasant weather.
But only an eyewitness can describe the
scenes which an Indian village prescmfs.
Mr. Catlin, speaking of this Mandan vil-lage,
says : — " The groups of lodges
around me present a very curious appear-ance.
On the tops are to be seen groups
standing and reclining ; stern warriors,
like statues, standing in dignified groups,
wrapped in their painted robes, with their
heads decked and plumed with quills of
the war-eagle, extending their long arms
to the east or the west, to the scenes of
their battles, which they are recounting
over to each other. In another direction
are wooing lovers, the swain playing on
his simple lute. On other lodges, and be-yond
them, groups are engaged in games
of the " mocassin" or the " platter." Some
are to be seen manufacturing robes and
dresses, and others, fatigued with amuse-ments
or occupations, have stretched their
limbs to enjoy the luxury of sleep while
basking in the sun. Besides the groups
of the living, there are on the roofs of
the lodges bufl"aloes' sculls, skin canoes,
pots and pottery, sledges ; and, suspended
on poles, erected some twenty feet above
the doors of their wigwams, are displayed
in a pleasant day the scalps of warriors
preserved as trophies. In other parts are
raised on poles the warriors' pure and
whitened shield and quivers, with medi-cine-
bags attached ; and here and there a
sacrifice of red cloth, or other costly stuff"
off'ered up to the Great Spirit over the
door of some benignant chief." Contig-uous
to the village are a hundred scaffolds,
each consisting of four upright posts, on
which their dead are placed in their best
costume.
The Comanchees make their wigwams
of long prairie-grass thatched over poles,
which are fastened in the ground and bent
in at the top, giving them from a distance
the appearance of bee-hives. Where the
buffuloes are numerous, skins are the ma-terials
employed ; and in all cases the dif-ference
of style or material is the result
of natural causes, just as formerly in the
woodland parts of England timber dwel-lings
prevailed, while in the champaign
other materials were used ; and as the
traveller in a long day's journey will pass
through districts where the cottages (the
truest criterion) are in one tract thatched,
in the next perhaps covered with tiles, in
another with bkie slate, and in a fourth
with a slate of quite another kind.
THE OBJECTS AND
ADVANTAGES OF CHEMISTRY.
The present state of chemistry, and its
acknowledged importance in the arts, ren-der
it necessary to make the study of it
a branch of the education of every youth.
The French have been long satisfied of
the importance of chemical knowledge ;
they, and the Germans, in their public
schools, have made it an essential part of
the education of members destined for the
liberal professions, and also for those in-tended
for mercantile pursuits : we hope
ere long to see this much-neglected sci-ence
attended to in our own schools, in
order to prepare the rising generation of
our important agricultural and manufactu-ring
country for their future destination.
It is hardly possible to say what profes-sion
would not be benefited by the appli-cation
of chemical knowledge. We pro-fess,
therefore, in this short essay, to point
out some of the advantages of such knowl-edge.
Archimedes, two thousand years ago,
was ridiculed for the cultivation of the
mechanical and abstruse sciences : yet so
great an eff"ect had his knowlege and war
engines upon the Roman army, that when
a rope only was let dovvn the walls of
Syracuse, the Romans fled in fear and
confusion. When Dr. Black, in his chem-ical
lectures, was explaining the theory
of heat and expansion of steam, Mr. Watt
was one of his hearers, and he has ac-knowledged
that by hearing these lectures
he was led to his ideas upon the construc-tion
of the steam-engine. Here are two
instances out of a large number that might
be quoted, to prove the utility of the dis-semination
of useful and scientific knowl-edge.
We shall, in the first place, endeavor to
prove that agriculture may be improved
by the application of chemical principles ;
and how important is it to improve a de-fective
system upon which depends the
sustenance and comfort of the human race
!
When we know what kind of food
plants require for their sustenance, we are
able to supply it to them in the shape of
manure, if the land upon which they are
destined to grow has not the necessary
constituents ; but, to possess this knowl-edge,
at least three analyses are necessa-ry
: the analysis of a perfect plant ; the
analysis of the soil ; and the analysis of
the substance to be added.
With respect to the first analysis, if
potash, or soda, or magnesia, be found, it
is evident these substances are used by
the plant as nutriment ; and hav^jng analy-zed
the soil, if these substances are not
found, we have to supply them, to produce
a good crop the next season. Before we
apply the manure, it is necessary to as-certain
what are its constituents, otherwise
we may apply a substance which contains
only those ingredients which are present
in the soil in a sufficient quantity : we
shall show hereafter what shifts a plant
can make in the absence of an important
part of its nutriment. We will now sup-pose
the crop gathered in : it is necessary
to analyze the soil upon which it grew to
ascertain what qualities and in what quan-tity
the crop has extracted from the soil,
to know what plant to grow the next year
to the greatest advantage ; and this is
especially necessary, as the previous crop
may have exhausted the soil of one or
more constituents required by the one we
wish to succeed : and not only this, the
excrements of the previous crops may be
very injurious to the next ; it is advan-tageous
to know how to vary our crops,
so that the excrements of one may be
food for its successor ; and this may be
done with but a very small application of
manure to a naturally good soil. We read
in Lalande's Life of Lavoisier, a distin-guished
French chemist, that he perceived
the advantage of cultivating land upon
chemical principles ; he hired 240 acres
of land in La Vendee, which he cultiva-ted
with great success, producing a crop
in value one third more than his agricul-tural
neighbors : in nine years he doubled
it : the farmers, perceiving the advantage
THE OBJECTS AND ADVANTAGES OF CHEMISTUY. 23
of his system, in some degree imitated his
example, and with success. Thus we
have shown, by incontrovertible proof,
that chemistry may be applied with advan-tage
to agriculture : how important, then,
that the landlord and farmer should under-stand
the principles of it ! the first, that
he may let his land to advantage (this
word we do not use as applied to money
matters only) ; and the other, that he may
produce the largest crops of grain at the
smallest expense, with the least impover-ishment
of the soil. If, by analysis, the
landlord finds that, at no reasonable ex-pense,
he could make the soil of an estate
productive, he ascertains to what order of
geological deposites the strata belongs, and
hence infers whether there is a probability
of the interior being rich in mineral pro-ductions.
We can easily understand why agricul-tural
chemistry has made so little progress
among practical men : those who have
been the most enthusiastic cultivators of
this branch of the science, have met with
so cold a reception at the hands of farmers
generally, that they have turned away in
disgust, and applied themselves to another
branch of it. If the farmer is not con-vinced
that the application of chemical
principles to agriculture will be of advan-tage,
ho has reason to reject their aid, as
upon the success of his produce depends
the sustenance and comforts of his family,
and the failure of which would bring them
into ruin. If he can not be convinced,
let us hope that he will, with the assist-ance
of a zealous chemist, first experi-ment
on a small scale, and we believe
that actual proof of its advantage will shovi^
itself so forcibly, that he will henceforth
call in chemical principles largely .to his
assistance.
We now turn to our manufactures, to
ascertam whether they can be improved
by the application of chemical science.
Of all these, perhaps the most important
are the woollen and calico manufactures
and prints, which are among the greatest
sources of national wealth ; to preserve
which, it is necessary to attend to the
beauty, variety, and durability of the col-ors
; it is from these that England enjoys
her present monopoly of calico manufac-tures.
In the printing of calico' every
process is chemical, as not a color can be
imparted but in consequence of the affin-ity
which exists between the cloth and the
coloring matter, or between^ this and the
mordant which is used as a chemical
bond between them. The original prac-tice
of printing calicoes was effected as
follows : the mordant was first applied to
all those parts which were intended to be
brown or black, and then it was necessary
to remain for some days before it could be
died—then exposed some time in the
bleaching-ground to clear the places from
the coloring matter of the die to which the
mordant had not been applied : a mordant
of a diflerent kind was then applied by
means of a pencil, then the cloth was a
second time passed through the dying
copper, in order to give the desired color
to those parts, and to finish the patterns :
to eflfect tliis, many weeks were required ;
but by the assistance it has received from
chemistry, the same results, in a manner
the older manufacturers had no idea of,
are produced in a few days. At the pres-ent
time the cloth is first died of a unilbrm
color, and afterward printed with a chemi-cal
preparation, which, having discharged
the original color, remains in its place.
We believe we are not beyond the truth
when we state that five chintz patterns for-merly
took two years to prepare ; these,
by the assistance of chemistry, are now
effected in as many weeks.
It is to chemistry that manufacturers
are indebted for their most valuable mor-dants,
and their most brilliant and most
beautiful colors. By a knowledge of chem-istry
they are able to examine the purity
of the substances used in their dies, with-out
which they would be liable to be im-posed
upon in the most cruel and injurious
manner, as many of the expensive articles
they use are particularly liable to be adul-terated,
from their difficulty of being man-ufactured.
Bleaching was formerly carried on by
exposure to air and light : several weeks
were consumed in this operation ; by
chemical application, the same thing, but
more eff'ectually, is effected in a few hours.
Thus can manufacturers receive great ad-vantages
from the application of chemistry,
and, wisely, they have not rejected its aid.
Another branch of staple manufactures
is iron ; and the whole process for prepa-rincf
it from the ore is chemical : if chem-ical
re-agents were not added, for which
the gross part has a greater affinity than
it has for the iron, it would not be possible
to obtain it in a metallic state. Again,
malleable iron is converted into steel, by
a purely chemical process, by which car-bon
is united with the iron ; the scientific
part of this process was until the last few
years, little understood, and consequently
the preparation of steel depended upon
the result of a certain routine of experi-ments,
Avhich, without knowing in what
manner, brought about the desired end.
The preparation of malleable iron from
cast is also a chemical process.
The utility of chemical knowledge to
members of the medical profession re-quires
f^w words to demonstrate. By
the chemical union of two or more sub-stances
they lose their original effect, and
acquire another and different one : in what
proportion these substances should be
compounded is of the utmost importance
to a medical man. The quacks in ancient
days supposed that the more substances
were united the greater and more beneficial
the effect upon the human body : not
knowing the chemical characters of the
ingredients they u.'ied, they were conse-quently
ignorant of ,heir action upon each
other, and often co.npounded those which
became poisonous or neutral, and thus the
patient suffered from their ignorance. The
human stomach is the physician's labora-tory
; and if he understand the chemical
acti>.n of his preparations, he will antici-pate
their effect on his patient Avith as
much accuracy as if he performed an ex-periment
at home.
We think we have clearly shown that
chemical knowledge is an important ad-vantage
to the agriculturist, the manufac-turer,
the iron-smelter, and the physician.
To the members of the legal profession,
the botanist, the refiner of sugar, the pre-parer
of sugar from beet-root or potato,
the manufacturer of soap, candles, and
glass, we could show that it is of as great
advantage.
In observing the operations of nature,
chemistry is an important acquisition ;
and in the walks of life the chemist pos-sesses
a decided advantage over a man
CHANGES OF THE YEAR.
A YEAR of changes has brought us to
that epoch, which, as we mark it down
in our tablets, emphatically reminds us,
" What shadows we are, and what shad-ows
we pursue." The " happy new year,"
season as it is of pleasure and felicitation,
celebrated with festival and song, is yet a
striking and solemn memento ; and he
must be dull, indeed, who can write, for
the first time, the number that designates
it without a passing touch, at lea.st, of se-rious
emotion. It reminds him how far
he is gone up, on the scale of the dread
century's progress ; wi^zi a floating atom
he is upon the tide of passing ages ; and
how soon the frail records of time, which
he strews like leaves upon the dark wave,
will be swallowed up for ever. It is a
memento of change, of instability, of un-certainty,
of weary labors, of unsatisfying
pursuits, of social bereavements, of a
world whose fashion passeth away. Let
xmskilled in action of different substances.
Were parents convinced of this truth they
would eagerly seek for their sons chemi-cal
education, that they might have the
means for qualifying them to conduct with
advantage the concerns with which they
are to be intrusted. An old maxim is
" knowledge is power," and the love of !
knowledge is the means to lead to opu-lence,
to respectability, and to national en-joyment.
The necessary result of an at-tention
to chemical science, is a love of
investigation, and the foundation of an in-quiring
and ardent mind. The insidious
a^ts of sophistry are the most likely to
lead away a young man—skepticism and
superstition to bewilder his mind. The
best means to avoid these results is to
instil into him while young a principle
of receiving nothing as true but what is
the result of experiment ; and thus by
teaching him to esteem the knowledge of
facts, no reasoning, however specious,
will induce him to credit Avhat appears in-congruous,
or to receive as truth that
which can not be demonstrated or recom-mended
by analogy.
\1=:
it be true that it is a memento of other
things ; our present design and mood lead
us to say, that it is a memento of these.
As we gather up the confused impres-sions
of the past, as the great scene of
worldly toil, and turmoil, and vicissitude,
passes in review before us ; as we medi-tate
upon the many things, the many
events, which seem as if they revolved in
eternal circles, tending to nothing and pro-ducing
nothing, we are ready to exclaim
with the ancient preacher, " All things
are full of labor ; men can not utter it.
The sun ariseth, and the sun goeth down,
and hasteth to his place where he rose.
The wind goeth toward the south, and
turneth about unto the north ; it whirleth
about continually ; and the wind returneth
again according to his circuits. All the
rivers run into the sea, yet the sea is not
full ; into the place from whence the rivers
come, thither they return again."
Thus is revolution, change, instability,
written upon all things. The law is im-pressed
on every varying form of nature.
It is taught in the revolving skies. It
comes up from the heaving depths of
ocean. It is proclaimed in the convul-sions
of the earth : it is whispered in the
stirring of the elements. The seasons
change. The secret powers of nature
are ever at work, and every instant are
producing new forms, new combinations,
new appearances. If ijye repose and rest,
everything is in motion about us ; and the
world in which we wake is no longer the
world in which we slept. If thought
passes in its busy career, or recreates
itself with idle and airy visions, yet na-ture's
mighty work goes on ; the circula-ting
air, the roiling ocean, the springing
or the decaying plant, the waving forest,
the flowing river, the bursting fountains,
are all undergoing momentary changes.
The elements, too—what a visitation
of mystery and change, of mingled vio-lence
and gentleness is theirs ! Fair
visions of beauty and life, sweet and si-lent
influences distilling, as the dew, soft
breathings of balmy odors and heavenly
melodies, spread themselves through all
our senses, like the invisible wind sway-ing
the cords of an iEolian harp. But
rougher touches proclaim other and stern-er
uses. The elements minister dis-cipline
with pleasure. They often in-commode
; they sometimes alarm us.
We are during a considerable portion
of our lives suffering from the inconveni-ences
of climate, and the incessant chan-ges
of nature ; panting in the heats of
summer, or shivering amid the chills of
winter ; drenched with the rain, or parched
with the drought ; our footsteps weary in
the daytime, or stumbling in the darkness
of the night. And often, too, the earthly
pilgrim's path lies through storm and tem-pest,
through dangers by flood and fire,
through whirlwinds and tornadoes, throush
regions ploughed by the thunder of heaven,
and the volcano on earth ; where the light-ning
flashes, and the earthquake rends ;
where those tokens are, of almighty pow-er,
at which " the dwellers in the utter-most
parts of the earth are afraid."
And thus it is, that in the very processes
of nature, powers are at work, and results
are produced, which in some form and at
some time or other, proclaim to all men
their insecurity, and from which all hu-man
safeguards are vain. There are vi-cissitudes,
from which riches, if we had
them, can purchase no immunity, and frorn
which sagacity, though we were ever so
wise, can invent no escape ; vicissitudes
which alike confound knowledge and ig-norance,
and baffle strength and imbecility.
Man's task, too, in the toiling world,
when he makes himself but a part of that
Avorld ; man's task, what is it but motion,
action, change, for ever returning upon it-self;
a ceaseless revolution which never
carries him beyond the circle of his abso-lute
or artificial necessities ? And from
these necessities, moreover, there is no
exemption. Every human hand is stretch-ed
out to procure something that is wanted,
or to Avard oft' something that is feared.
The case even of boundless wealth fur-nishes
no exception to this law, for it
brings, in equal proportion, the care of
preserving, and the fear of losing it. And
then, for the mass of mankind, behold the
scene of their labors, and behold the Je-suit.
Behold factories multiply, establish-ments
increase, engines, inventions lend
their assistance ; behold the earth and
ocean vexed with human toil, and the ten
thousand wheels of commerce busy .; and
for what 1 To obtain for ii;an repose ?
26 THE HUMBLE-BEE.
No ; but to procure relief, to meet the de-mands,
no matter whether real or fictitious,
barely to meet the demands of necessity.
All the energies of life are wasted, and to
what end ? barely to live. All the pos-sessions
of life are accumulated, and to
what purpose ? to be cared for, to be
borne about with us for a little season, then
to be laid aside, like the habiliments of a
weary day. The entire physical ener-gies
of life are put in requisition to sup-port
life ; and at last they fail even of
that ; so that there is not only perpetual
toil, but toil which in the end is fruitless
and unavailing.
Is the condition of the world within, of
the mental world, any better? We are
speaking, indeed, of the Avorld as it is,
and not as it should be ; of the world of
the many, and not of the few ; is it any
better governed or brought to any better
account, than the world of man's fortunes
and toils ? The inward world is, as truly
as the outward, a world of changes. It
is, indeed, more variable and restless,
more fluctuating than the sea, more way-ward
than the wind that bloweth where it
listeth. Its worldngs are more unwearied
than the toiling hands, or all the swift
and untiring engines of industry. Every
feeling is desire, or satiety. Every pas-sion
is inflamed with pursuit, or pained
with excess. Every mind, in the worldly
crowd, is either hurrying in the swift ca-reer
of exertion, or is pausing, weary, un-quiet,
unsatisfied at the goal of attainment.
Success is a stimulus to greater efforts ;
disappointment an apology for complaints
and lamentations. The condition of plea-sure
is never to have enough ; of pain,
alas ! ever to have too much. Ambi-tion
sees more than it can gain ; dis-couragement
sees nothing that it can gain.
Wealth has cares, poverty has necessities
;
and it is sometimes difficult to tell whether
the cares or the necessities are the greater
burden, and occasion the greater disquie-tude
; and whether the pride of wealth, or
the murmuring of poverty, is the less easy
and comfortable disposition.
What state of mind or of the aflfections
then is there, whether desired or depreca-ted,
that may not minister to our annoy-ance,
if that holy principle which brings
satisfaction, and strength, and harmony, to
the soul, be wanting? Knowledge may
perplex our curiosity, and ignorance dis-turb
our fear. Mediocrity of talent, fail-ure
in a profession, is commonly consid-ered
as an occasion of intolerable disqui-etude
; but inferiority itself is not more
agitating than the situation of a proud
man, exalted in the public opinion, and
obliged to satisfy the demands made upon
an idolized reputation. Or will you look
at the affections, and at the tenure and
condition upon which they hold all the
treasures of this imperfect state. What
we value and highly prize, at some time
or other distresses us ; and what we dis-like
of course disturbs us. If we, have
friends, we are anxious ; if we have them
not, we are forlorn. If we have hopes,
we are agitated ; if we have them not, we
are depressed.
THE HUMBLE-BEE.
The development of instinct, as mani-fested
by the operations and in the econ-omy
of animated beings, affords much
matter for reflection and observation. By
instinct we mean that innate power or
principle impelling to the performance of
works necessary either to the well-being
of the individual or the species, and which
rules, irrespective of experience, in the
mode adopted, in the materials selected, in
the site, and arrangement ; which directs
in the observation of time, in attention to
size, figure, and numbers, and wriich
bears alike upon the present and a future
day, leading to results which appear to be
those of reason, reflection, and forethought,
involving also a knowledge of the past.
No living animal, not even man, is desti-tute
of instinct : we see its manifestations
in the infant, but as reason dawns it be-comes
weaker and weaker ; and, indeed,
in such of the lower animals as are sus-ceptible
of education we find it shaken by
what we may well term artificial educa-tion,
which, as in the dog, calls forth
limited and imperfect trains of reasoning,
simple deductions of effects from causes,
the result of experience and discipline
;
and, more than this, we see the civiliza-
28 THE HUMBLE-BEE.
tion thus effected, and kept up, influence
the character and propensities of a whole
race—we see it aifect their physical struc-ture.
The results of pure instinct are in no ani-mals
so wonderful, so interesting, as in in-sects.
Birds, indeed, can not but attract
our notice : who can examine their nests,
so various in form and materials, so art-fully
constructed, without feelings of plea-sure
? Look at the nest of the tailor-bird,
a soft couch in a leafy cradle sus-pended
at the end of a slender twig ; look
at the hanging nests of the pensile weaver-bird
(and how many could we not enume-rate
?) ; and acknowledge, reader, v/ith me,
that they are admirable examples of the
operations of instinct.
Still, however, as we have said, even
more wonderful exemplifications of the
governing principle of instinct are to be
found in the works of insects. • The wax-en
architecture of the hive-bee (apis mel-lifica),
its habits and economy, have been
the admiration of intelligent minds in all
ages, and the greatest philosophers have
applied themselves to the elucidation of
its history, and of the principles on which
it proceeds, to build its hexagonal ceUs
with such accurate precision.
It is not, however, to the hive-bee that
we are about to invite attention, but to a
relative of less pretensions, whose works
are comparatively simple, yet far from be-ing
without interest. We allude to the
common humble-bee, which all the sum-mer
long we see wandering over clover-fields,
and through gardens, busy with
every flower, and assiduously trying nec-tary
after nectary with its proboscis. If
one of these bees be watched with a little
patience and some tact, it may be traced
to its retreat, where it has labored in con-structing
cells and laying up a store of
honey. The domicil of the humble-bee
is a simple excavation in some bank, a
litllf: chamber of about six or eight inches
in diameter, to which leads a long winding
passage, capable of admitting of the in-gress
and egress respectively of two bees
at the same time. Some species, as the
bombus uuiscorum, select a shallow exca-vation
which they dome over with a felt
of moss or withered grass, lined with a
coat of wax to render it waterproof ; but
the bombus terrestris makes or enlarges a
subterranean vault, a foot beneath the sur-face
of the ground, and in this is the col-ony
established. The population, how-ever,
is not numerous, seldom exceeding
one or two hundred, and may be divided
into females, males, and workers. The fe-males
are of two sorts, very large and
small. The large females, or queens,
look like giants compared to the smaller
females and workers ; they produce males,
females, and workers, but the small fe-males
produce only male eggs. The
large females, then, we may regard as the
founders of every colony ; and by follow-ing
up the details we shall be able to ren-der
the plan clearly intelligible.
These large females, in an established
colony, emerge from their pupa state in
the autumn, and pair in that season with
males, the produce of the small females
which have previously acquired their due
development. Now on the approach of
winter these large females, the pairing
time over, retire each to a little snug
apartment, lined with moss or grass, and
separate from the general vault, passing
the cold season in a state of torpidity.
Early in the spring they awake, issue
forth, and take diff'erent directions, seek-ing
for some convenient spot in which to
begin their labors. At this time of the
year large females may be often observed
exploring every cavity, hole, or crevice,
in banks or on the ground ; they are seek-ing
a fit site for their operations. We
will now suppose one of these queens to
have formed and established herself in her
chamber ; she begins to collect honey and
pollen, and constructs cells in which her
eggs are to be deposited. So rapidly are
the latter built, that to make a cell, fill it
with honey and pollen (the food of the
young), commit one or two eggs to it, and
cover them in, requires little more than
half an hour. Her first and most numer-ous
brood consists only of workers, which,
as soon as excluded from the pupa, assist
their parent in all her labors. Her next
consists of large and small females and
males ; these appear in August or Sep-tember
; but, if Huber be correct, the male
eggs, or some of them at least, are laid
in the spring with those that have to pro-duce
workers. We have now, then, small
THE HUMBLE-BEE. 29
and large females, males, and workers,
the produce of the original queen who sin-gly
began to found this estalalishment. It
will be interesting to look a little closer
into their transactions ; and, first, those of
the Avorkers. These are by far the most
numerous tenants of the colony, and to
them is intrusted the reparation of any
part by the deposition of wax, and the
spreading of it in patches over the roof.
When in any of the cells one of the larvae
has spun its cocoon and assumed the pupa
state, it is their department to remove all
the wax away from it ; and after the pupa
has attained its perfect state, which takes
place in about five days, to cut open the
cocoon, in order that the perfect insect
may emerge from its imprisonment : it is
theirs, moreover, to supply the young
grubs with food after they have consumed
the stock deposited with each egg in the
cell, and regularly feed them either with
honey or pollen introduced in their probos-cis
through a small hole in the cover of
each cell, opened as occasion may re-quire,
and carefully covered up again. As
the grubs increase in size, the cells which
contained them respectively become too
small, and b}'' their struggles the thin sides
split : the breaches thus produced they
repair with wax as fast as they occur, at-tentive
to see where their services are re-quired
: and it is in this manner that the
cells gradually acquire an increase of size
to accommodate the increasing larvje.
Besides these duties, in chilly weather
and at night the workers brood over the
pupae shrouded in their cocoons, in order
to impart the necessary warmth and main-tain
a due degree of temperature. They
relieve the mother-queen, in fact, of half
her cares and nearly all her labor. In
some nests there are from forty to sixty
honey-pots, the cocoons of the bees re-cently
emerged from their pupa condition,
and more than half of these are often filled
in a single day. It must not be supposed
that the interior of the nest presents the
same appearance as that of the hive-bee.
Instead of numerous vertical combs of
I wax, we see either a single cluster of
cells or a few irregular horizontal combs
placed one above another, and supported
by pillars of wax. Each layer consists
of several groups of yellowish oval bodies
of three different sizes, those in the mid-dle
being the largest, the whole slightly
joined together by a cement of wax.
These oval bodies are the silken cocoons
spun by the young larvae : some are closed
at the upper extremity, some are open ;
the former are those which yet include
their immature tenants ; the latter are the
empty cases from which the young bees
have escaped. Besides these are the
cells of wax, in which are eggs and a
store of pollen and honey, but from which
in due time the workers will remove the
wax, the larvae having completed their
silken shroud. These larvae, their food
being exhausted, are, as we have said,
regularly supplied by the workers. There
are, moreover, the honey-pots, that is, the
relinquished cocoons patched up, and
strengthened with wax, and filled with
nectar, and sometimes vessels of pure
wax containing the same luscious store.
The workers have indeed plenty of
business on their hands, and are busy all
the summer long. But the winter comes,
and they all perish ; they have fulfilled
their allotted part, and their services are
no more needed. From the workers let-us
pass to the mother-queen, and inquire
into her duties and fictions. We have
said that the workers are her first progeny,
and we must suppose her surrounded by
them. They are watching all her move-ments,
for she is about to deposite in the
cells the eggs from which the second
brood is to spring ; and, by a strange in-stinct,
they endeavor to seize the eggs as
soon as laid, and devour them. It is not
easy to understand the object to be ac-complished
by this procedure on the part'
of the workers, unless it be to keep the
population within due bounds. Be this as
it may, the female has to exert herself to
the utmost to prevent her eggs from being
all devoured ; and it is only after she has
driven them back several times and utterly
routed their forces, that she succeeds in
\
accomplishing her purpose. When she
has deposited her eggs in the cells (each
supplied with a store of pollen moistened
with honey) and closed them up with
wax, she has still to keep vigilant watch
over them for six or eight hours, otherwise
the workers would immediately open the
cells and devour their contents. After
this period, strange to say, the nature of 1
the workers seems changed : they no Ion-
ger evince anv appetite for devouring the
j
eggs or destroying the cells ; the female
gives up her charge, committing all to
\
their care, and they faithfully and assidu- '.
ously perform the duties we have previ-ously
detailed. From these eggs proceed
a few larcre females, to be at a future day
the founders of colonies : a few males,
and small females, closely resembling the
|
workers, but attended by the males, which
j
form their court. And now, as Huber as-
|
sures us, the whole establishment is a
scene of confusion ; for these small fe-j
males begin to prepare cells for their
egffs, and this proceeding rouses the an-
ger and jealousy of the queen-mother to
the highest pitch. She assaults them with
fur\-, driving them away ; puts her head
j
into the cells, and devours their eggs, and !
is in turn herself assaulted and forced to ,
retreat. They then contend among them-j
selves for various cells, several females ,
often endeavoring to lay their eggs at the
|
same time in the same cell, but after a
short period tranquillity seems restored.
•These small females all perish on the I
commencement of winter. Their produce \
consists only of males, which pair with
[
the large females in the autumn, the latter '
retiring to their hybemaculum and sleep-
inu till spring. The males are rather
j
larger than the small females whence they
;
sprung, and their antennae are longer and
more slender. They are not an idle race,
for Reaumur asserts that they work in
concert with the rest to repair any dam-age
that may befall their common habita-tion.
They act in some sort as scaven-gers
of the settlement, remo^-ing every
sort of rubbish, and the dead bodies of
such individuals as may chance to die, but
do not forage for building materials and
provisions, nor do they take any share in
rearing and attending to the young.
Such, then, is an outline of the pro-ceedings
which occur in ever\- colony of
humble-bees, all of which, with the ex-ception
of a few large females destined to
continue the race, perish at the close of
autumn-
It is the opinion of Huber that the
workers of the humble-bee are really fe-males
in an imperfect condition, and inca-pable
of reproduction, and that the devel-opment
of the large and small females is
dependant upon the nature of the food
with which they are supplied during their
ian^a condition. Kirby says : " As in the
case of the hive-bee, the food of these
several individuals differs, for the grubs
that will turn to workers are fed with pollen
and honey mixed, while those that are. des-tined
to be males and females are fed with
pure honey." It is, however, still a ques-tion
to what specific cause Ave are to at-tribute
the difference between the large
and the small females, which are as dis-tinct
in appearance as in habits and ope-rations.
Humble-bees may be more easily
.studied than either hive-bees or wasps
;
the two latter, and especially the wasps,
being ver\^ irritable, and displaying great
resentment against any intruder ; while
the humble-bee is indifferent to the pres-ence
of a spectator, and while collecting
honey will permit itself to be touched
or stroked Avithout attempting to use its
sting.
Mr. Huber relates a very amusing an-ecdote
respecting some hive-bees papng
a A'isit to a nest of humble-bees placed
under a box not far from the hive of the
former, in order to beg or steal their
honey. The narration places in a strong
light the good temper and generosity of
the latter. The circmnstance happened
in a time of scarcity. " The hive-bees,
after pillaging, had almost taken entire
possession of the nest; some humble-bees
Avhich remained, in spite of this dis-aster,
went out to collect provisions, and
bringing home the surplus after they had
supplied their own immediate wants, the
hive-bees followed them, and did not quit
them till they had obtained the fruit of
their labors. They licked them, present-
[ ed to them their proboscis, surrounded
I them, and at last persuaded them to part
j Avith the contents of their honey-bags.
i The humble-bees fleAV away after this to
1 collect a fresh supply. The hiA'e-bees
I did them no harm, and never once shoAved
their stings, so that it seems to have been
, persuasion rather than force that produced
j this singular instance of self-denial. This
remarkable mancEUATe Avas practised for
more than three Aveeks, Avhen the wasps
, being attracted by the same cause, the
ON SELF-DISCIPLINE. 31
humble-bees entirely forsook the nest."
The care and attention displayed by the
"workers toward the larvae or young is
proved by an interesting experiment con-ducted
by M. P. Huber, and which is re-corded
in the " Linnean Transactions,"
vol. vi., p. 247. This observer put under
a bell-glass about a dozen humble-bees,
without any store of wax, along with a
comb of about ten silken cocoons, .^o une-qual
in height that it was impossiole the
mass should stand firmly. Its unsteadi-ness
disquieted the humble-bees extreme-ly.
Their affection for the young led
them to mount upon the cocoons for the
sake of imparting warmth to the enclosed
little ones, but in attempting this the comb
tottered so violently, that the scheme was
almost impracticable. To remedy this in-convenience,
and to make the comb steady,
they had recourse to a most ingenious ex-pedient.
Two or three bees got upon the
comb, stretched themselves over its edge,
and, with their heads downward, fijsed
their fore-feet on the table upon which it
stood, while with their hind-feet they
kept it from falling. In this constrained
and painful posture, fresh bees relieving
their comrades when weary, did these af-fectionate
little insects support the comb
for nearly three days. At the end of this
period they had prepared a sufficiency of
wax with which they built pillars,