MR. AND MRS BERNARD, EMILY, EDWARD, LOUISA, AND FERDINAND.

(A servent coming in with a parcel.)

Louisa.

Ah! there is a parcel: I dare say it is from Charles. Do, pray give it me, Mary:—I am sure I shall have a letter. He promised to write to me the next opportunity. May I open it, mamma?

Mrs. B. You may, Louisa.

Louisa. Emily, be so good as to lend me your scissors; the string has got into a hard knot:—I shall not have untied it this hour. I will just give it a little snip and it will be off in a minute.

Mr. B. How, Louisa! Have you so soon forgotten the applicaiton of the story with which you were so much pleased a week ago?

Louisa. Oh! I recollect: "Waste not—want not." But then, papa, it is so tantalizing to know there is a letter for one, and not to be able to get at it for such a long time; particularly when it comes from Charles, for he does not write to me very often. Do pray let me cut it this once. On any other occasion, I should have patience to untie the knot, I am sure.

Mr. B. We are all apt, Louisa, to think it more difficult to act with propriety under the very circumstances in which we happen to be placed, than we should do under others; but, if we would learn wisdom, and acquire the esteem of the good, we must always endeavour to do the very best that circumstances will allow. By making this principle the rule of our conduct on trifling occasions, we shall acquire, as it were, the habit of correctness and propriety of conduct, which will be very valuable to us in the more important actions of our lives.

Louisa. Well, papa, I have been trying, all the time you have been talking, to untie this string, and it really was not in so hard a knot as I expected, for it is undone: and now I will endeavour to remember you kind advice, and be more patient in the future. Oh! here is my letter. What a long one it seems to be! And here is a short one for you, mamma, with a little parcel for Sophy.

Mrs. B. Well, my dear Louisa, I am almost as anxious as you are, to hear the contents of the letter: but do not be in a hurry. Read it slowly, and very distinctly.

Louia promised to do her best, and began as follows:

"MY DEAR LOUISA,

"It is a long time since I wrote to you last, but I must not have you, on that account, suppose I have forgotten you; for I really think more of you now I am away, than I used to do when we were all at home together. I am very happy in my new situation. Instead of finding a severe master, as I sometimes feared might be the case, I seem to have gained a second father in Mr. Lewis; and Mrs. Lewis is almost as affectionate to me as my own dear mother. It shall be my constant endeavour, by strict attention to my business, to prove myself grateful for their kindness. I have my evenings completely to myself, which I endeavour to employ profitably, according to my dear father's advice. I am studying natural history, and, if it would afford you any amusement, I should like to make my progress in that study, the subject of my future letters. I shall not, however, begin that plan till I hear from you, to know if it will be agreeable to you.

"A few evenings ago, I paid a very pleasant visit to an old friend of Mr. Lewis's, which will afford me ample materials for this letter. He is what Mr. Lewis calls a virtuoso, which signifies, a person fond of antique and natural curiosities. You will, therefore, suppose I was not at a loss for amusement. In one cabinet was a number of stuffed birds and beasts; amongst others, a little animal somewhat resembling a rat, but rather smaller. It legs are short and slender; the fore-legs longer than the hind ones. Its head is of a pointed form; the colour of its body tawny, and variegated with large black spots, irregularly arranged; and the belly is white, tinged with yellow. There appeared to me so little that was uncommon in this animal, that I could not help asking Dr. Sinclair, on what account he had given it a place among so many curiosities. 'I value that little animal,' said he, 'as much as any in my collection. It is the Leming, or Lapland Marmot, and is distinguished from other quadrupeds, by habits peculiar to itself. It is only found in the northern part of our continent, where immense numbers of these little animals sometimes overspread large tracts of country, especially in Lapland, Sweden, and Norway. Their appearance happens at uncertain periods; but fortunately for the inhabitants of these countries, not oftener than once or twice in twenty years. As the source whence they originate in such astonishing numbers, is as yet unexplored by the naturalist, it is no wonder that the ignorant Laplander should seriously believe that they are rained from the clouds. Myriads of these animals pour down from the mountains, and form an overwhelming troop, which nothing can resist. The disposition of their march is generally in lines, about three feet asunder, and exactly parallel. In this order they advance with as much regularity as a well-disciplined army; and, it is remarked, that their course is from the north-west or south-east. They frequently cover the extent of a square mile, travelling in the night. They always halt in the day, and in the evening resume their march. No opposition can stop them; and, whatever way their course is directed, neither fire not water can turn them out of their road. If a lake or river intercept their progress, they will swim across, or perish in the attempt; if a fire interrupt their course, they instantly plunge into the flames; if a well, they dart down into it; if a hay-rick, they eat through it; and, if a house stand in their way, they either attempt to climb over it, or eat through it; but, if both be impracticable, they will rather die with famine before it, than turn out of the way. If thousands perish, thousands still supply their place, until the whole column be destroyed. Wherever they pass, they annihilate every trace of vegetation, and, when subsistence fails, are said to divide into two different armies, which engage with the most deadly hostility, and continue fighting and devouring each other, till they are all entirely destroyed. Numbers of them are devoured by foxes, weasels, &c. which follow them in their march, so that none are ever known to return from their migrations."

"I thanked Dr. Sinclair for his curious and entertraining account, with which, I hope, my dear Louisa, you also have been amused. A very beautiful, large, white cat, took possession of Dr. Sinclair's kneee, the moment he seated himself in his elbow chair by the fire-side. It licked his hand in a caressing manner, and seemed, by every means in its power, to testify the greatest affection towards him. From the old gentleman's kindness, in giving me so amusing an account of the Leming, I was encouraged to enter into conversation with him upon the merits of his cat. 'Some naturalists,' said I, 'have represented that animal as insensible of kindness, and incapable of attachment; but I cannot help thinking this is a great mistake. We have a cat, at houme, that is very fond of me; and yours, Sir, seems much attached to you.' 'The cat is, on many accounts, unjustly aspersed,' said he: 'excepting the dog, I know of no animal that appears capable of stronger attachment. It is also reproached with treachery and cruelty; but are not the artifices it uses, the particular instincts which the all-wise Creator has given it, conformable to the purposes for which it is designed? Being destined to prey upon the mouse, a lively, active animal, possessing many means of escape, artifice is absolutely necessary for the accomplishment of its end. I can, however, say nothing in extenuation of its cruelty, in sporting with the unfortunate victim that falls into its power, in prolonging its tortures, and putting it to a lingering death. This, it must be confessed, is not a very favourable trait in its character. Notwithstanding all this, it certainly renders very essential services to man, and merits, in return, his kindness and protection.' I admired the beauty of Tom, for so Dr. Sinclair calls his favourite. 'His beauty is not his most remarkable property,' said the Doctor: 'this cat was once the cause of detecting a murderer.' I was astonished, as I doubt not, you, Louisa, will be also, and requested he would relate to me the particulars of so extraordinary a fact. This he kindly did, as follows:

"Some time ago, when I was pursuing the duties of my profession, as a physician, I was requested to enquire into the particulars of a murder, that had been committed upon a woman in the city where I lived. In consequence of this request, I went to the habitation of the deceased, where I found her extended lifeless on the floor, and weltering in her blood. This cat was mounted on the cornice of a cupboard, at the further end of the apartment, where he seemed to have taken refuge. He sat motionless, with his eyes fixed on the corpse, and his attitude and looks expressing horror and affright. The following morning, he was found precisely in the same position; and, when the room was filled with officers of justice, neither the clattering of the soldier's arms, nor the loud conversations of the company, could, in the least degree, divert his attention. As soon, however, as the suspected persons were brought in, his eyes glared with increased fury, his hair bristled, he darted into the middle of the apartment, where he stopped for a moment to gaze at them, and then retreated precipitately under the bed. The countenances of the assassins were disconcerted, and they were, for the first time during the whole course of the horrid business, abandoned by their usual audacity. I felt much interested for poor puss, and, as no other person laid claim to him, I secured him for myself; and Tom and I have been the best friends imaginable, ever since.'

"I felt my respect for Tom greatly increased by this story, the detail of which has so completely filled my letter, that I have not space to tell you of half the curiosities contained in Dr. Sinclair's cabinet. One thing, however, I must find room to describe; this is, a piece of cloth, which, judging merely from its outward appearance, I considered still more unworthy than the little Leming, of a place among so many rarities, and again ventured to express my surprise. 'Never allow yourself to form such hasty conclusions, my dear boy,' said Dr. Sinclair, taking my hand in the kindest manner: 'a rough exterior often conceals real merit. This you will find to be the case in your future commerce with the world, as well as in examining the cabinet of a virtuoso. That piece of cloth, and this bit of paper,' said he, opening one of the drawers and showing it to me, 'are made from a stone called asbestos.' 'A stone!' said I, with astonishment: 'is that possible, Sir?' 'It is very true, my dear,' replied he: 'this kind of linen cloth was greatly esteemed by the ancients. It was considered as precious as the richest pearls. The most remarkable property belonging to it, is, its being incombustible; that is, it cannot be consumed by fire. Among the Romans, napkins were made of it, which when soiled, were thrown into the fire, and by this means much more completely cleaned, than they could have been by washing. Its principal use was for making shrouds, to wrap up the dead bodies of their kings, so that their ashes might be preserved distinct from those of the wood composing the funeral pile.'

"I enquired where this very curious stone was found. He told me that
there were ten species of it, and that it was discovered in many of the
European mountains, particularly in those of Lapland, Sweden, and
Germany; as well as in Candia, an island of the Mediterranean; and in
China.

"I enquired, whether it was used for any other purpose than the manufacture of cloth and paper. To which Dr. Sinclair replied, that he understood, the Chinese employed it as an ingredient in the formation of their finest porcelain.

"You may easily imagine, my dear Louisa, how much I enjoyed the conversation of this kind and sensible man. I hope Mr. Lewis will allow me to accompany him, the next time he pays him a visit. And now I must beg of you to give my love to little Sophy, and tell her I have sent her a work-bag and pin-cushion, and hope I shall hear she grows very notable and industrious. Give my duty to my dear father and mother; and love to Emily, Edward, and Ferdinand; and believe me, my dear Louisa, your affectionate brother,

"CHARLES BERNARD."

Mrs. B. Very well, Louisa, you have done your brother's letter justice, by the manner in which you have read it; and great amusement it has afforded me, I assure you.

Emily. I have been both amused and instructed by it. I never heard of the Leming before; it is a most curious little animal. I am glad Clarles is studying natural history, as, no doubt, he will meet with many pretty anecdotes to relate to us. Is it not a pleasing science, mamma?

Mrs. B.. It is, indeed, my dear. No study tends so greatly to enlarge the mind. You already know something of botany, and have admired the wisdom manifested in the formation of the minutest flower; for

"Not a tree,
A plant, a leaf, a blossom, but contains
A folio volume.
We may read, and read,
And read again, and still find something new;
Something to please, and something to instruct,
E'en in the nuisanceweed."

A deeper research into the beauties of nature, will excite in you still greater attentions and astonishment, and will, I am sure, fill you with reverence towards the Divine Author of so many wonders. I hope Charles will not merely relate to us the amusing anecdotes he meets with, but enter scientifically upon the subject; as it is impossible to gain clear ideas, without great method and regularity.

Louisa. I hope, mamma, we shall not, in natural history, have long lists of classes and orders to learn by heart, as we had when we began botany; for I cannot say I think all those hard names at all entertaining.

Mrs. B. Perhaps not, my dear; but nothing that is valuable, can be attained without difficulty. I would wish to smooth the path for you as much as I can, but learning is "labour, call it what you will;" and without strict attention, and industrious perseverance, you will never attain perfection in any thing. The classes and orders in that division of natural history, called the animal kingdom, are, however, by no means difficult. There are, in botany, as you no doubt recollect, twenty-four classes; in natural history, there are but six.

"Will you be so kind as to repeat them to us, mamma?" said Louisa.

Mrs. B. Willingly, my dear. The first is called Mammalia, and consists of Quadrupeds and Whales; the second, Birds; third, Amphibia; fourth, Fishes; fifth, Insects; and sixth, Worms.

Louisa. That seems very easy. I think I could soon learn those six classes. Are there many orders, mamma?

Mrs. B. In the class Mammalia there are seven. But we must not talk of them just at present, or our Roman history will be forgotten.

Edward. Before we change the subject, will you be so good as to tell me, mamma, what you meant by saying, that division of natural history called the animal kingdom. Are there, then, many divisions?

Mrs. B. There are three, my dear. The first consisting of Minerals; the second, of Vegetables; and the third, of Animals.

Mr. B. Well, my dears, now do not forget what you have been already told, and another day we will talk further on this subject: for the present, let us attend to our history. We concluded with the death of Ancus Martius. Who succeeded to the crown, Emily?

Emily. Lucius Tarquinius Priscus. He was the son of a merchant of Corinth, which is a large city of Greece. This man had acquired a considerable fortune by trade, which was inherited by his son Lucumo, who took the name of Tarquinius, from Tarquinia, a city of Hetruria, where his wife Tanaquil lived, previous to her marriage. His birth being considered contemptible by the nobles of this place, he, by his wife's persuasions, settled in Rome, where merit alone gave distinction.

Mr. B. What remarkable circumstance is said to have occurred to him on his way thither, Ferdinand?

Ferdinand. As he approached the city gate, historians say, that an eagle, stooping from above, took off his hat, and, after flying round his chariot for some time, with a great noise, put it on again. From this circumstance, his wife, Tanaquil, foretold that he would one day wear the crown.

Mr. B. By what means, Edward, did he obtain this object of his ambition?

Edward. The two sons of Ancus were left under his guardianship. He was a skillful politician, and found out the secret of making himself a great favourite with the people. He used every artifice to set aside these children, and to get himself elected in their stead. For this purpose, he contrived to have them sent out of the city, and made a long speech, mentioning his friendship for the people, the fortune he had spent among them, together with his knowledge of their government, and concluded by offering himself for their king. The people, with one consent, elected him as their sovereign.

Mr. B. Pray, Louisa, can you tell me how he has governed the city he had so unjustly obtained?

Louisa. Much more properly, papa, than might have been expected. The first thing he did, was to add a hundred members to the senate: so that it now consisted of three hundred. He was disposed to live in peace, but the Latins and Sabines rose up against him: however, after a severe conflict, he subdued them both. Peace being restored, he employed his subjects in many useful works for the improvement of the city, that they might not grow corrupted through indolence.

Mr. B. This conduct in Tarquinius, shows great wisdom; for it is very true, that "idleness is the root of all evil." In states it foments discord, and in private life occasions misery and ruin. Well, Ferdinand, what have you to tell us?

Ferdinand. There is a curious account of Attius Nævius, a famous augur, (this signifies a kind of prophet, who could foretel future events.) The Romans used to place great confidence in these people, and Tarquinius, wishing to try this man's skill, sent for him; and, when he was come into the midst of the Forum, said to him: "diviner, canst thou discover, by thy art, whether what I am thinking of can be done or not? Go and consult thy birds." The augur did as he was ordered, and returning quickly, answered: "Yes, Tarquin, my art tells me, that what thou art thinking of may be done." Upon which Tarquin pulled a razor from under his robe, took a flint in his hand, and replied, contemptuously, "I was thinking, whether it were possible to cut this flint with this razor. I have taken thee in thy own craft. The introducing of the gods into thy decisions, is all cheat and imposture. If thou canst do what is impossible, do." At these words the people burst out a laughing, but the augur did not appear at all moved. He, on the contrary, addressed himself to the king, with a bold air, and said, "Put the razor to the flint and try. I readily submit to any punishment, if what you thought of be not done." Upon trial, the razor passed through with the greatest ease. The people then gave a loud shout, and the king's contempt for the augur was turned into admiration. This is a very extraordinary account: but do you think it is true, papa.

Mr. B. I do not, my dear. I think it is a mere fabulous invention; and this was the opinion of the great orator, Tully, who was himself an augur. Writing to his brother, he says, "Look with contempt on the razor and flint of the famous Attius. When we reason as philosophers, we ought to lay no stress upon fables." How did Tarquin close his long life, Emily?

Emily. In the eightieth year of his age, and thirty-seventh of his reign, he was murdered by the artifices of the sons of Ancus Martius. They hired two young men, who dressed themselves like peasants, with hatchets on their shoulders, as if they had been wood-cutters. They approached the kings palace, pretending to have a quarrel about some goats, and made so much disturbance, that they were carried before the king. At first they began to rail at each other, until a lictor interfered, and ordered them to speak by turns. Then one of them began to tell his story, and, whilst the king was listening to it very attentively, the other, lifting up his hatchet, gave him a deep wound on his head, and instantly ran out of doors with his companion. Whilst some of the company hastened to assist the king, others pursued the ruffians and seized them. On being put to the torture, they confessed by whom they had been employed.

Ferdinand. Pray, papa, what is the meaning of being put to the torture?

Mr. B. It is a most barbarous punishment, my dear. The unhappy victim is extended upon a wheel, which stretches his limbs till they are all dislocated; and it has frequently happened, that many poor wretches, unable to endure such severe torments, have made confessions of crimes they never committed, in order to free themselves from the severity of their sufferings. How did queen Tansquil set upon the death of her husband?

Edward. She did not lose her presence of mind, but cleared the palace of the crowd, shutting herself up in the apartment of the expiring king, with only Servius Tullius, who was her son-in-law, his wife, and Octivia his mother. She pressed him to ascend the throne, that Tarquin's two grandsons might be safe under his protection: then, opening the window which looked into the street, she bade the people be under no concern, since the wound was not deep, and the king, having only been stunned by the sudden blow, was come to himself. She concluded by expressing her hopes, that they would see him again very shortly; declaring that it was their sovereign's orders, that, till that time, they should obey Servius Tullius. This stratagem succeeded. The report that the king would soon be well again, so terrified the sons of Ancus, that they went, of their own accord, into banishment.

Mr. B. How did Servius proceed, Louisa?

Louisa. The second day after the murder of Tarquin, he took his seat on the throne, in the royal robes, and heard causes; some of which he decided himself, and, in difficult cases, pretended he would consult the king. He continued this management some time, and by his prudent conduct gained the love of the people. At last, when he thought his authority well established, the death of Tarquin was announced, as a thing which had just happened, and Servius continued in power, without being positively chosen as king. That is all we have read at present, papa. I hope we shall hear something more about Servius, as I do not think I clearly understand who he was, except that he was son-in-law to Tarquinius. Mr. B. Oh, no doubt, all those matters will be cleared up to your satisfaction to-morrow, Louisa. For the present we must separate, my dears, as our conversation has been already prolonged beyond your usual hour. Good night, my dear children.