“Oh yes! I know what you mean, uncle; I am sure—commerce—by which that overplus is sent to other countries, and exchanged there for things which we do want.”
“You are right, Bertha. The agricultural and manufacturing classes may furnish each other with the necessaries, and with many of the comforts of life; but, without the aid of commerce, they can never raise a nation to any great degree of wealth. Foreign commerce is the great spur to their industry; it opens a thousand channels to their activity, and mutually enriches both themselves and the countries to which they trade. But it does much more—it brings distant nations into contact with each other—it makes up for the partial distribution of soil and climate—it may be said to equalize the bounties of Providence, and it is the grand means of spreading knowledge and civilization to the most remote corners of the world.”
25th.—In consequence of our breakfast conversation yesterday on the productions of various countries, we invented a very amusing play in the evening, and I assure you that it was conducted with great precision.
Each person wrote on a bit of paper the name of some town, country, or province; these tickets were then shuffled together in a little basket, and whoever drew one out was obliged to give an account of some production, either natural or manufactured, for which that place was remarkable. This new-fashioned game was highly entertaining, for it brought out a number of curious bits of information which we had picked up, and which we might never have mentioned to each other, only from some such motive.
One of these was, that in Persia they have the art of carving spoons out of pear wood, which are so delicate and so thin, that the bowl of the spoon can be folded up like paper, and opened again. The handles too are so slender, that it is a particular accomplishment to carry them when full to the mouth in such a dexterous manner as to prevent their breaking. These delicate utensils are one of the accompaniments of men of rank, being only used by princes and noblemen when sipping their sherbet.
My aunt having drawn Siberia, said she had a nice match for Frederick’s wonderful spoons. In the province of Wiatka bowls and cups are made of the knobs which grow on the birch trees; they are yellow, marbled with brown veins, and when varnished are very pretty. But some of them are turned so extremely thin, as to be semi-transparent; and when put into hot water they become so pliant that they may be spread out quite flat without injury, as they return to their original shape in drying.
The ticket for Constantinople was next drawn, and produced a description of the rose beads which are so much prized by the Sultan’s wives, that they are usually called “Beads of the Haram.” Those poor ladies have so little employment, that they sit for hours passing these beads, when strung, through their fingers. They are composed of the petals of the rose carefully picked, and pounded into a smooth paste in an iron vessel; which makes them quite black, on the same principle, you know, mamma, that ink is made by mixing a preparation of iron with gallic acid, of which the rose petals contain a small quantity. When the paste is quite smooth it is made up into little balls, which are perforated for stringing, and then slowly dried in the shade. When they have become hard they are rubbed in the palms of the hands along with a little attar of rose, till quite smooth; and they always preserve their sweet smell.
Paraguay was on the next ticket, and Wentworth, who remembers all he reads, gave us a description of the famous tea of that country, large quantities of which are used in Chili and the states of Buenos Ayres. It is called Maté; and is made by boiling the leaves in an oval-shaped metal pot, about twice as large as an egg, on the hot embers in a brasier which stands at all seasons of the year in the middle of the room. When the water boils, a lump of burnt sugar is added, and the pot, being placed in a filagree silver stand is handed round; each person drawing the maté into his mouth through a silver or glass tube which is furnished at the lower extremity with a bulb pierced with small holes. The natives drink it almost boiling hot; and they have always some of this tea ready prepared, whether employed at home or in the fields. No one even departs on a journey without being provided with a quantity of the dried herb, as well as with a maté-pot, which is either carried in the hand, or suspended round the neck by a small chain if the person is on horseback. I was rather ashamed to confess that all these circumstances were new to me, as well as that the tree is a species of holly, the Ilex Paraguayensis; but you will tell me if they are correct.
Then came Kamtschatka, which produced an account of the Sarana, a species of lily that is universal in the eastern parts of Siberia, and almost covers the ground with its blossoms. The bulbs are gathered in August, and laid by for use; after being baked they are reduced to flour, and are not only used in soups and other dishes, but make the best bread of the country. Sometimes they are boiled and eaten like potatoes; and besides their own exertions in collecting them, the Kamtschatkans have a provident little mouse, which not only hoards them in its magazines, but has the sagacity to bring them out in sunny weather to dry. The natives search for and seize on these hoards, but they always leave some of the contents for their poor little purveyors. There are several species of this lily, from one of which the Russians produce a sort of wine.
We had afterwards the Apatea, or Hottentot bread, made from a parasite which grows on the roots of a Euphorbia at the Cape of Good Hope, and which has neither stem nor leaf—only a flower that produces a large round and excellent fruit; but I really have not time to describe any more of these interesting little scraps, for my aunt says I must go out and walk.