“How grateful should we be,” my uncle added, “to those learned men who thus elucidate the difficult passages in Scripture, and shew the beautiful harmony of the whole prophetic system!”
24th.—I am reading “Bartram’s Travels in North America.” It is not a late publication, but very interesting to me, as I like to compare the productions of North and South America.
Among all the beautiful trees of our Southern regions, I do not recollect having seen or heard of the deciduous cypress, the majestic grandeur of which, he says, is surprising. It generally grows in low flat grounds, that are covered, part of the year, with water. The lower part of the stem, which is frequently under water, enlarges into prodigious buttresses; and they project on every side to such a distance, that several men might hide in the recesses between them. The stem is generally hollow as high as the buttresses reach, where it forms, as it were, another beginning, and rises, in a straight uninterrupted column, to the height of 80 or 90 feet. There it throws out its noble branches like an umbrella; eagles securely build their nests in them; they are the abode of hundreds of parroquets, who delight in shelling the seeds; and even the hollow stem is not untenanted, as it affords spacious apartments for the wild bees.
The trunks supply excellent timber; and, when hollowed out, make large and durable canoes. When the planters fell these mighty trees, they erect a high stage round them, so as to reach above the buttresses; and on these stages eight or ten men can work together, with their axes.
Another curious fact which I found in this book is, that the inhabitants of East Florida prepare, from the root of the China briar, a very agreeable sort of jelly, which they call conti. They chop the root in pieces, which are afterwards pounded in a wooden mortar; and, when washed and strained, the sediment that settles to the bottom dries into a reddish flour. A small quantity of this, mixed with warm water and sweetened with honey, becomes a delicious jelly, when cool; or, mixed with corn flour and fried in fresh bear’s oil, it makes very nice cakes.
26th.—I have just found, in “Bartram’s Travels,” some particulars that I do not think we knew before, of that curious species of the Tillandsia, commonly called long moss.
It grows on all trees in the southern regions of North America; and any part of the living plant, torn off and caught on the branches of another tree, immediately takes root. Wherever it fixes, it spreads into long pendent filaments, which subdivide themselves in an endless manner, waving in the wind like streamers, to the length of twenty feet. It is common to find the spaces between the boughs of large trees entirely occupied by masses of this plant, which, in bulk and weight, would require several men to carry. In some places, cart loads of it are found lying on the ground, torn off by the violence of the wind. When fresh, cattle and deer eat it in the winter season; and when dry, it is employed for stuffing chairs, saddles, and beds; but to prepare it properly for these purposes, it is thrown into shallow ponds of water, where the outside furry substance soon decays: it is then taken out of the water and spread in the sun; and, after a little beating, nothing remains but a hard, black, elastic filament, resembling horse-hair.
There is a curious anecdote about the name of this plant, in “Harry and Lucy concluded;” but I need not mention it here, because my uncle has sent that delightful little book to you, and I am sure Marianne will have run through it with as much eagerness as I did.
28th.—I have just found some more instances of those strange optical deceptions, which seem to be of the same nature as the Fata Morgana. My aunt thinks that the term mirage only applies to the deceitful waters of the desert.
Mr. Dalby writes in the Philosophical Transactions that, ascending a hill in the Isle of Wight, he observed that the top of another hill, of about the same level, seemed to dance up and down as he advanced; and on bringing his eye down to within two feet of the ground, the top of the hill appeared totally detached, or lifted up from the lower part, the sky being seen under it. This he repeatedly observed; and he adds, that as the sun was rather warm for the season, with a heavy dew, there was a great deal of evaporation going on.