Before my uncle dismissed us, he said, “This, my dear little friends, is the last quiet home Sunday that we shall have for some time. Before we return, many unforeseen changes may occur; we are going, as it were, to launch into the world; we may be separated; and our regular habits must be unavoidably interrupted. But in every situation we can cultivate and strengthen in our hearts the Christian hope; and though we may perhaps no longer give each other mutual aid, we can, at least, each of us watch over our own hearts. Let me then intreat your attention to a few practical hints.
“Never allow yourselves to consider religion as a painful restraint, but rather as the performance of a grateful duty. Whenever that duty has the least appearance of being irksome, search and you will find that some incompatible but favourite pursuit entices away your thoughts: throw it then aside, however blameless it may otherwise be, or however innocent may be its pleasures. Remember with whom St. Paul classes those who are ‘lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God.’
“Frequently examine the state of your moral and religious feelings, and when you perceive a deficiency in any point, beware of lowering the standard of virtue to meet your practice; instead of endeavouring to rise to the level of your duty.
“Watch vigilantly your small faults. You will find the unhesitating sacrifice of any one of them productive of the purest satisfaction; and each victory will make the next struggle more easy. But, in doing this, be careful to resist that most seductive propensity of all minds, the looking back with too much complacency at the faults we have conquered, or at the virtues we possess, instead of fixing our eyes on the sins we have yet to overcome, and the improvement we have yet to achieve.
“And, lastly, arm yourselves with a determined resolution not to rate human estimation beyond its true value. No one should affect a needless singularity; but to aim at things which in their nature are inconsistent, to seek to please both God and the world, where their commands are really at variance, is the way neither to be respectable, nor good, nor happy.”
Fernhurst, for the last time.
12th.—The corn fields are coming into ear, the hay harvest is going on, new flowers are springing up; and all the walks, and gardens, and shrubberies, are in the highest beauty, and yet we are going to leave this dear place! To-morrow we are to quit Fernhurst and all its happiness! But that is a silly feeling, for we all go together, and surely we may make ourselves happy any where, even in Ireland. A year ago I was just leaving my dear mamma, and the happy home to which I had been so long accustomed, to place myself among strangers;—and now I am going among still greater strangers—among the Irish. But my uncle says they are a warm-hearted, hospitable people, and that the country is so full of objects of interest, that I shall not have to regret the employments of Fernhurst, nor even my favourite gardening experiments.
I am happy to tell you, that most of these experiments have succeeded very well as yet: particularly one I have been trying on my dahlias, by budding them on the roots. They have already produced some very flourishing plants, and as the bearing buds were employed, they will blossom this year. I must make you acquainted also with a little bower, which we have all assisted in making in a charming spot; it is canopied with woodbine, and lined with moss; and you might say of it—
Is this Titania’s bower, where fairies play
Their antique revels in the glow-worm’s light?
Moss and wild thyme are all the weeds which stray
To pave her palace with a green delight.
As we were taking our last walk late this evening, we saw the goat-sucker, which is nearly allied to the swallow in its form and habits; though generally larger in size. Frederick, who is my chief preceptor in everything relating to the feathered race, tells me, that, except on very dark, gloomy days, these birds are seldom seen till twilight. That is the time the insects come out which form their principal food; and, he says, it is probable that the extreme sensibility of eyes calculated for that period of the day, could not bear the dazzling light of the sun. Their mode of perching is singular, as they place themselves lengthways on a branch, and not in a cross direction like most other birds. The mouth is uncommonly large, fringed with bristles, and moistened by a glutinous fluid, to which the smaller insects adhere; and you may therefore conceive the destructive powers of this bird, for it flies through their swarms with its voracious jaws wide open, darts in every direction at its larger prey, and swallows all, without ever closing its bill. It is in this last circumstance that it chiefly differs from the martin, the swift, and the rest of the swallow tribes; for they never open their bills, in flying, but to snap at their prey, and they shut them with a sharp peculiar noise, which every one must have observed.