17th.—Caroline has allowed me to make the following extract, from a letter that she received this morning from Hertford:—
“There are some marine animals here which I cannot find mentioned in any of the books we have with us; and one species, my companion says, has very rarely been observed in the British seas. These animals belong to a gregarious family, and often adhere together, but in a manner that is peculiar to each species. In this new species they are linked together endways, so that the whole forms a chain. They move forwards by swallowing, and suddenly emitting the water; and it is amusing to observe the whole chain of many feet in length, swimming with an undulating motion, resembling that of a serpent. They are quite transparent, and the adhesion is so slight, that the least force separates them. We put some in a bucket of water, but they did not like the confinement, and died in half an hour.
“That interesting phenomenon—luminous sea-water, is seen here in autumn in great brilliancy. It certainly does not proceed from any ingredient of the water itself, but from the phosphorescent property of living animals; and from what I can learn, there are a great many other tribes that possess this power of giving light, besides those described in Dr. Macartney’s ingenious paper, which you and I read together. I am informed, that Sir Charles Giesecke discovered several new species on the coast of Greenland, which were not only luminous when alive, but retained this property even when broken to pieces by the violence of the sea. They have been well called the glow-worms of the deep, by a writer, whose account of these islands has been a great assistance to me in my tour.
“I have much more to tell you on this subject when we meet; but now the wind is fair for my voyage to St. Kilda, and all hands are waiting for me.”
18th. Sunday.—There was some little argument going on at breakfast, this morning, between Frederick and Wentworth, on the question of resisting injury and injustice, or of passively submitting, according to the injunction of the Gospel; and my uncle took advantage of it to say a few words on the subject, lest we should mistake between the real meaning and the figurative expression.
“It has been charged against the Gospel,” he said, “that it teaches men to feel towards their enemies in a manner which is compatible only with an abject, slavish temper, and that it directs what it is impossible to practise; not only forbidding retaliation, but inculcating patience under the grossest ill-usage; as in these passages: ‘Love your enemies, bless them which curse you. Resist not evil; but whosoever shall smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.’ But such objections can only be urged against the mere words; they do not apply to the spirit of the precept. It is a forbearing disposition—a slowness to resent—a readiness to make allowance for the passions of others, which is meant; for, in many instances, it would be totally unreasonable to take them in their literal meaning. These texts, and others of the same nature, were intended to counteract the misinterpretation of the Jewish doctors; who, because the Mosaic code enjoined exact retaliation in the punishment of crimes by the regular sentence of the judge, perverted that into a permission to indulge in private revenge; and who were notorious, also, for want of charity in their feelings and conduct to all persons not of their own nation or sect. It was in consequence of these corrupt prejudices, that our Lord inculcated, with peculiar emphasis, the contrary principles of forbearance, forgiveness, and kindness, to those who had offended; and he illustrated these precepts by striking and familiar instances.
“It appears, from various other passages, also, that it was not the literal rule which Christ meant strictly to enforce in every instance, but the spirit of it—that is, the temper of humility, the control of all violent and selfish impulses, and the patience and submission which are the effects of self-control;—above all, the pausing to put ourselves in the place of the offender, before we give way even to just resentment; so that, by supposing the fault our own, we may consider in what light it would then appear to us, and, consequently, lead us to act towards others as we should wish to be acted by. Our Saviour meant that we should have a willingness to forgive, and that we should habituate our hearts to that amiable benevolence which disposes us, under real provocation, to pardon, and even to promote the good of those who have injured us. It is astonishing how soon we can acquire the habit of not gratifying resentment.
“One strong proof that it was never intended that we should understand these rules too literally is, that we find, by the instructions of our Lord to his apostles, as well as by their own subsequent conduct, that they did not recommend or practise either perfect insensibility under injuries, or indifference to their character. They occasionally resorted to such legal and innocent means of guarding their safety and good name, as were compatible with their situation and their peculiar mission. When, therefore, we see undoubted malignity in the conduct of others towards us, we are justified in guarding against its repetition; but Christianity binds us, at the same time, to moderation, and to omit no opportunity of benefiting and reforming our enemy, whose heart may be softened by the control we exercise over our feelings, and who may often be changed, and rendered more Christian, merely by our forbearance.”
My uncle said he dwelt the longer upon this important subject, because every other virtue, he thinks, rests on self-control.
19th.—Well, dear Mamma, I have taken possession of my garden; and now I hope I shall not grow tired of it, or disgrace myself by having it ill kept. One part of it had been a little nursery for rose trees, rhododendrons, and other flowering shrubs. That, and the large bed near it, which is rather moist, have become very weedy; but the front beds, and the slope down to the brook, are in very good order; and when the annuals, which are now in seed there, are removed, I shall begin to dig. The moist bed is to be trenched; and as this is the best time for transplanting deciduous shrubs, as well as almost all plants, I shall have plenty of work on my hands. I may have as many shrubs as I please, and I am to have advice from all these gardeners, particularly Mary, who does every thing at the right season. She has some nice cards, on which are written hints of what is to be done in each month; and, as they hang in her room, I can easily see there what I am to do: besides which, I intend to read a little in their gardening books, that I may understand what I am about. I look forward, with great pleasure, to this new employment, though I know I shall always feel disappointed at not having my garden full of the bright and glowing flowers that I have been accustomed to see. It must look, I fear, as sombre as the forest and the valley do, when I compare them with those of my former country. But they tell me that I must not judge now of the look either of the garden or of the country, as spring will give them a very different appearance; and, indeed, I must confess that, gloomy as the season is becoming, the well-sheltered fields, with the cattle quietly browsing, or tamely going home, at regular hours, to be milked, do look exceedingly cheerful.