Father.—Well, be it so! Thus it is in fact with all the sciences; we do not easily forget what we wish to know, what is connected with our desires and hopes;—propose your questions then, and I will answer you as fully as I am able.
Fritz.—Well then, father, from what part do olives come originally?
Father.—From Armenia and Palestine: Authors of antiquity say that Hercules brought the first into Europe, and planted them on Mount Olympus; they were gradually cultivated throughout Greece, and especially in the territory of Athens, whence they came into Italy, and from thence were spread over the south of France, and in Spain, where they are cultivated with the greatest care, on account of the excellent oil which is extracted from them. Figs belong to the same native soil; they were brought from Lydia and the isle of Chios into the Archipelago, in the time of Cato the Elder: they were transplanted into Gaul a long while after by the emperor Julian, who was previously prefect or governor of that Roman province. Peaches are from Persia, and were first named mala Persica (Persian apples). In Pliny’s time, who lived under the emperor Vespasian, they were still a novelty in Italy: the family of apricots from Armenia came amongst the Romans about the same time.
But now let us go on to plums, your favourite fruit:—Whence do they originate? Some of the inferior kinds are probably European; but those of the finest qualities are from other parts: they have reached us from Damascus, a town of Syria, from which their name is borrowed. In course of time the crusaders brought several species of them into Europe, and prunes most likely were among them.
Your favourite apples and pears now claim, I think, a few observations. We find them first noticed in Greek authors, under the denomination of Peloponnesian fruits; they were obtained from that country by the Romans; they found also several kinds of them in Syria and Alexandria. These two fruits, of all others offer the greatest varieties, and no doubt several of them are the result of culture, or of the influence of soil and climate. It is in general a law of nature, that care and attentive management produce in the same species a more considerable number of shades and varieties, than is met with in the wild uncultivated state, in which much sameness prevails throughout. Man in the rude state of nature is nearly alike every where, and is destitute of those diversities of character that naturally unfold themselves in his civilized condition. Every class of animals and plants, which man renders subservient to his use by cultivation and due care, exhibits beyond comparison greater differences in the same species, more varieties, more families, than those which remain in their native state, remote from and unaided by his fostering care:—it would appear as if Providence had thus meant to encourage and reward activity and labour.
Jack.—But, father, you left off with the apples too soon; do pray resume their history: I wish you may tell us they are of Swiss or German origin; they are so useful as a fruit, keep so well through the winter, and may be eaten raw as well as dressed.
Father.—This refreshing fruit, my apple-eating boy, is not a native of Switzerland or Germany, as you desire it should be, but comes to us from more favoured climates; at least this is the case with the best sorts of them. We have a number of wild pear and apple trees, the fruit of which is crabbed, harsh, and scarcely eatable; whether they were so originally, or have degenerated, remains to be determined. As I have said, none of these valuable fruits are indigenous or native in the colder parts of Europe: yet this ungrateful and rough climate it is that operates on the European so as to distinguish him from the inhabitants of the other parts of the world, by his intelligence, his fitness for toil, and his skill in agriculture. There exist abundant means and facilities for rendering man effeminate and indolent, but necessity and want stimulate him to industry and useful inventions; and by these blessings the inconveniences of climate are amply compensated.
Jack.—I dare say you are quite right, father;—but tell me where then do apples come from?
Father.—From the eastern countries, my son; and it is to the victories of the Romans we are indebted for some of the best kinds, which have been diversified by experiments, ingrafting, or in other words the influence of soil and labour and intelligence.
Fritz.—Quince and mulberry-trees are the last we have to inquire about; and then, father, we will cease our importunities for the present.