The wonders of the world (part 2 of 5)

Preface

The ancients boasted of their SEVEN WONDERS OF THE WORLD. These were the Pyramids of Egypt, the Colossus of Rhodes, the Aqueducts of Rome, the Labyrinth on the banks of the Nile, the Pharos of Alexandria, the Walls of Babylon, and the temple of Diana at Ephesus. But the WONDERS known to those of the present day, may be counted by hundreds: wonders of Nature, wonders of Science, wonders of Art, and Miscellaneous wonders; each department full, to overflowing, of themes of the richest instruction and deepest interest.

To present some of the most striking of these wonders, in a manner that shall be acceptable to the man of science and profound research, and at the same time full of interest to the general reader, and the family at the fireside, has been the aim of the editor of the following pages. The exaggerated and marvelous stories which the mischievous fancy of travelers has too often imposed on the credulity of the weak, as well as the foolish fables founded in bigotry and superstition, which were too often received as truths in the dark ages, have been carefully avoided, and, where the narrative permitted, exposed; and nothing has been brought forward that has not been confirmed by the concurrent testimony of enlightened travelers, and men of science, and extended observation. On the subjects in which Nature, in her various departments, displays her most wondrous magnificence and beauty; or in those in which Science and Art have sought out their most wondrous inventions, and wrought out the most wondrous results, the best authorities have been carefully consulted. And the endeavor has been, so to assemble and arrange the multiplied objects of wonder and delight, as to confer a lasting benefit on the rising generation, and on families, and at the same time to present a work that shall commend itself to those whose lives have been wholly devoted to researches among the sublime wonders of nature, science and art. Believing that the standard of general reading is constantly rising higher, and that the sphere of intellectual tastes and pursuits is constantly growing wider, the writer has endeavored to prepare a volume that shall have more than the interest of fiction, and, at the same time, the ripe and rich instruction of the book of travels, or the work of science or descriptive art. The table of contents makes manifest how extensive the range of the topics presented; while the list of engravings may show how profusely and richly the enterprise of the publishers has illustrated a work, which it is hoped may meet with universal acceptance.

J. L. A.

PAGE. Preface 3 List of Illustrations 8

MOUNTAINS. The Andes 9 Chimborazo 12 Cotopaxi 13 Pichincha 14 Mount Etna 15 Mount Vesuvius 21 Mount Hecla 28 The Geysers 32 The Sulphur Mountain (Iceland) 36 Mont Blanc 37 The Glaciers, or Ice Masses 51 The =Mer de Glace= 51 View from the Buet 55 Montserrat 57 The Peak of Teneriffe 59 The Souffriere Mountain, (St. Vincent, W. I.) 69 Peter Botte’s Mountain, (Mauritius) 73 Kilauea, (Sandwich Islands) 74 The Peak of Derbyshire 82 Mountains of Great Britain 97 Stromboli 101 Lipari 103 Vulcano 104 The Himalaya Mountains 105 Asiatic Volcanoes 115 Islands which have risen from the Sea 119

SUBTERRANEAN WONDERS. The Grotta del Cane 131 The Grotto of Antiparos 136 Caverns in Hungary and Germany, containing Fossil Bones 139 The Mammoth Cave 141 The Great Cavern of Guacharo 157 Fingal’s Cave, or Grand Staffa Cavern 161 Other Grottos and Caverns 164

MINES, METALS, GEMS, &C. Introductory 168 Diamond Mines 169 Gold and Silver Mines 178 Quicksilver Mines 193 Iron Mines 195 Copper Mines 204 Tin Mines 209 Lead Mines 211 Coal Mines 212 Salt Mines 223

PHENOMENA OF THE OCEAN. Introductory 230 Saltness of the Sea 231 Congelation of Sea-Water 234 Ice-Islands 235 Icebergs 244 Luminous Points in the Sea 245 Tides and Currents 246

CATARACTS AND CASCADES. Introductory 252 Falls of Niagara 253 Falls of the Montmorenci 270 The Tuccoa Fall 272 Falls of the Missouri 272 Catskill Falls 274 Trenton Falls 275 Waterfall of South Africa 275 Cataracts of the Nile 276 Cataract of the Mender 276 Other Cataracts 277

SPRINGS AND WELLS. St. Winifred’s Well 280 Wigan Well 282 Dropping Well at Knaresborough 283 Broseley Spring 284 Hot Springs of St. Michael 284 Hot Springs of the Troad 285 Other Springs 286

BITUMINOUS AND OTHER LAKES. Pitch Lake of Trinidad 290 Mud Lake of Java 291 Salt Lake of Utah 292

ATMOSPHERICAL PHENOMENA. Meteors 294 Aerolites 307 Aurora Borealis and Aurora Australis 312 Lumen Boreale, or Streaming Lights 314 Luminous Arches 316 Ignes Fatui, or Mock Fires 317 Specter of the Brocken 319 The Mirage 322 Fata Morgana 323 Atmospherical Refraction 324 Parhelia, or Mock Suns 328 Lunar Rainbow 330 Concentric Rainbows 330 Thunder and Lightning 331 Remarkable Thunder-Storms 334 Hail-Storms 338 Hurricanes 339 The Monsoons 341 Whirlwinds and Waterspouts 342 Sounds and Echoes 348

BURIED CITIES. The Yanar, or Perpetual Fire 350 Pompeii 351 The Museum at Naples 360 Herculaneum 362 Pompeii 365 The Museum 375 Herculaneum 379

EARTHQUAKES. Introductory 384 Earthquakes of Ancient Times 389 Earthquake in Calabria 389 The Great Earthquake of 1755 391 Earthquake in Sicily and in the Two Calabrias 401 Earthquakes in Peru 409 Earthquake in Jamaica, 1692 411 Earthquake in Venezuela, 1812 412

CONNECTION OF EARTHQUAKES WITH VOLCANOES. Island of Java 413

BASALTIC AND ROCKY WONDERS. The Giant’s Causeway 417 Basaltic Columns 422

NATURAL BRIDGES. Natural Bridges of Icononzo 424 Natural Bridge in Virginia 427

PRECIPICES AND PROMONTORIES. Besseley Ghaut 432 The Cape of the Winds 433 The North Cape 435 Precipices of San Antonia 436

GEOLOGICAL CHANGES OF THE EARTH. Introductory 438 Extraneous Fossils 446 Fossil Crocodiles 448 Large Fossil Animal of Maestricht 449 Fossil Remains of Ruminantia 450 Fossil Remains of Elephants 451 Fossil Remains of the Mastodon 453 Fossil Remains of the Rhinoceros 454 Fossil Remains of the Siberian Mammoth 455 Fossil Shells 457 Subterranean Forests 458 Moors, Mosses and Bogs 460 Coral Reefs and Islands 465

WIDE AND INHOSPITABLE DESERTS. Asiatic Deserts 469 Arabian Deserts 470 African Deserts 470 Pilgrimage across the Deserts 474 Sands of the Desert 486

WONDERS OF ART. The Pyramids of Egypt 491 The Tombs at Sakkara 506 The Sphinx 509 Ruins and Pyramids of Meroë 511 Pyramids and Ruins of Merawe 516 Egyptian Temples and Monuments 520 Bathing in the East 526 Egyptian Temples, Monuments, &c. 527 Other Ruins in Egypt, &c. 554 The River Nile 562 The African Birds-nest 568 Ruins of Palmyra 569 Ruins of Balbec 570 Ruins of Babylon 572 Babylonian Bricks 579 Later Discoveries at Babylon 580 Ruins of Nineveh 582 The Ruins of Persepolis 587 Royal Palace of Ispahan 589 The Temple of Mecca 589

THE HOLY LAND. Jacob’s Well 591 Bethlehem 592 Nazareth 594 The Holy Sepulcher at Jerusalem 594 Mount Tabor 596 The Mount of Olives 598 Other Revered Sites 599 Mount Carmel 599 Mount Ararat 600

WONDERS OF ART RESUMED. The Mosque of Omar 601 Mosque of St. Sophia at Constantinople 602 Ruins of Carthage 603 The Plain of Troy 604 Athens 607 Temples of Elephants 610 Temples of Salsette 612 Mausoleum of Hyder Ali 614 The Taje Mahal 614 Great Wall of China 616 Porcelain Tower at Nankin 618 The Shoemadoo at Pegu 618 Colossal Figure of Jupiter Pluvius, or the Apennine Jupiter 621 The Leaning, or Hanging Tower of Pisa, in Tuscany 624 The Coliseum at Rome 627 The Pantheon 630 Roman Amphitheater at Nismes 632 Trajan’s Pillar 634 Column of Antonine 635 Naison Carré, at Nismes 635 The Pont du Gard 636 Ancient Aqueduct near Rome 637 The Roman Forum 638 St. Peter’s of Rome 642 The Soil of Rome 646 Eddystone Light-house 647 Bell Rock Light-house 649 Stonehenge 652 Rocking Stones 654 The Round Towers of Ireland 656 St. Paul’s Cathedral 657 First Church in England 661 Westminster Abbey 662 Cathedral of Notre Dame 665 Strasburg Cathedral 665 Cathedral of Cologne 669 Church of St. Mark, at Venice 669 The Cathedral of Milan 670 The Tower of London 671 The Bank of England 674 Monument of the Great Fire of 1666 in London 675 The Louvre 676 The British Museum 679 Madame Tusseau’s Museum 686 The Palace of Blenheim 689 The Palace of Versailles 691 The Palace of St. Cloud 693 The Crystal Palace in New York 697 The Crystal Palace in London 702 The Capitol at Washington 712 The Smithsonian Institute 714 The Washington Monument 715 The Column of Vendome, Paris 718 The Bunker Hill Monument 719 The Arc de Triomphe (Paris) 721 The Cooper Institute (New York) 723 Vergnais’s Improved Bridge over the Seine at Paris 725 Railroad Bridge at Portage, New York 726 The Britannia Tubular Bridge, over Menai Strait 728 The Suspension Bridge over the Menai Strait 730 Great Railway Suspension Bridge at Niagara Falls 731 Other Immense Bridges 732 The High Bridge at Harlem 733 The Boston Reservoir 734 Aqueduct at the Peat Forest Canal (England) 735 The Thames Tunnel 737 Railroad Tunnels 739 The Colossus at Rhodes 741

MISCELLANEOUS WONDERS. Youle’s Shot-Tower 744 The Emperor Fountain 746 The United States Mint in Philadelphia 747 The Air Balloon 749 The Progress of Navigation 755 Steam Navigation 758 Chinese Junks 766 The Artesian Well of Grenelle 767 The Banyan-Tree 768 The Wedded Banyan-Tree 771 The Cocoa-Tree 771 The Reindeer Sledge 772 The Upas or Poison-Tree 773 The Prairie on Fire 775 The Mammoth Tree of California 776 Other Mammoth Trees in California 778 The Palm-Tree 778 The Bamboo-Tree 781 The Manna-Tree 783 Continental Money 783 The Milk-Tree 784 The Signal Telegraph 786 The Electro-Magnetic Telegraph 787 The Art of Printing 788 The India-Rubber Tree 793 The Round Tower at Newport 795 Diving Armor 796 Tree House in Caffraria 799 The Raining-Tree 800 The Traveler’s Friend 800 The Camphor-Tree 801 The Cinnamon Plant 802 The Tree Temple at Matibo in Piedmont 803 The Termites, or White Ants 804 Huts in Kamtschatka 806 The Whale 807 Landing of the Pilgrims 808 Plymouth Rock 809 A Wonder of Art 811 The Whale Killer 812 A Pile of Serpents 813 American Ruins 814 Insect Slavery 815

List of Illustrations.

PAGE.

The Cordilleras, or Andes, near Quito 10

Crater of Mount Etna 16

The “Castano de Cento Cavilli,” or Great Chestnut Tree of 18 Mount Etna

Mount Vesuvius 22

Mount Hecla and the Geysers 29

Mont Blanc and the Glaciers 38

The Peak of Teneriffe 59

Peter Botte’s Mountain 74

Bridge over the Wye 92

Source of the Jumna 109

St. Michael’s Volcano 122

Sabrina Island 125

Grotto of Antiparos 136

The Mammoth Cave 141

Diamond Washing in Brazil 171

Discovery of Silver in Peru 179

Silver Mine at Königsberg, Sweden 185

Gold Washing in California 188

Place where Gold was first discovered in Australia 190

Copper Mine in Cornwall 207

Thin Plates of Coal 213

Great Salt Mine of Cracow 225

Icebergs, or Ice-Islands 236

The Maelstrom 250

Niagara Falls 256

Niagara Falls on the American side 259

Suspension Bridge over Niagara River 265

Falls of Montmorenci 270

Catskill Falls 274

Dropping Well at Knaresborough, England 283

The Emigrant Family 293

Specter of the Brocken 320

Ship refracted in the Air 327

Waterspout on the Ocean 346

Temple of Isis at Pompeii 356

Papyri 361

Earthquake at Lisbon 394

Natural Bridge in Virginia 428

Skeleton of the Siberian Mammoth 456

The Sphinx and Pyramids 492

Entrance to one of the Pyramids of Gizeh 499

Entrance to the Tombs of Sakkara 507

Great Gallery of the Tombs of Sakkara 510

Cleopatra’s Needle 521

The Two Colossi 535

The Nilometer 565

African Birds-nest 568

Tower near Babylon 573

Colossal Winged Bull from Nineveh 584

Jacob’s Well 591

Church of the Holy Sepulcher 595

Mount Tabor 597

The Areopagus 608

Temple of Jupiter Olympius 609

Great Wall of China 615

Porcelain Tower at Nankin 617

Jupiter Pluvius, or the Apennine Jupiter 622

The Leaning Tower at Pisa 624

The Coliseum at Rome 629

Ancient Roman Aqueduct 638

The Arch of Titus 640

St. Peter’s as seen from the Tiber 643

The Eddystone Light-house 648

Stonehenge 653

The First Church in England 661

Strasburg Cathedral 666

The Crystal Palace in New York 697

The Capitol at Washington 712

The Smithsonian Institute 715

The Washington Monument 716

The Bunker-Hill Monument 720

Vergnais’s Herculean Bridge 725

The Britannia Tubular Bridge 728

The High Bridge at Harlem 733

The Boston Reservoir 735

Aqueduct on the Peat Forest Canal 736

Tunnel in Shakspeare’s Cliff 740

The Colossus of Rhodes 742

The Emperor Fountain 747

The Air Balloon 750

Early Navigation 756

The Launch of a Packet-Ship 757

Fulton’s First Steamboat 759

An Ocean Steamer 762

Chinese Junks 766

The Banyan-Tree 769

The Reindeer Sledge 772

The Prairie on Fire 775

The Date-Palm 779

The Bamboo-Tree 782

Continental Money 783

The Signal Telegraph 785

The Electro-Magnetic Telegraph 787

Faust taking First Proof from movable types 789

Franklin’s Printing-Press 790

Hoe’s Eight-Cylinder Power Press 792

The India-Rubber Tree 793

The Old Round Tower at Newport 795

Submarine or Diving Armor 796

Manner of working the Diving-Armor 797

Tree House in Caffraria 799

The Camphor-Tree 801

Tree Temple at Matibo in Piedmont 803

Ant-Hills of the White Ant 805

Huts in Kamtschatka 806

Taking a Whale 807

Landing of the Pilgrims 809

Plymouth Rock 810

Early Settlers of New England going to Church 811

THE

=Wonders of the World.=

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MOUNTAINS.

“And lo! the mountains print the distant sky, And o’er their airy tops faint clouds are driven, So softly blending that the cheated eye, Forgets or which is earth, or which is heaven!”—FAY.

“Mountains and all hills—let them praise the name of the Lord, for his name alone is excellent; his glory is above the earth and heaven.”—DAVID.

Among the wonders, or uncommon phenomena of the world, may be classed stupendous mountains. For though compared with the entire diameter of the earth, the highest elevations on its surface are no more than the inequalities on the skin of the orange to the orange itself, yet to our eyes they often appear immensely lofty and sublime. Descriptions of such vast and striking objects often fail to excite corresponding ideas; so that however accurate or poetical may be the accounts of this class of the prodigies of nature, no just notions of their vastness can be conveyed, by any written or graphical representation. The magnitude of an object must be seen to be duly conceived; and the mountain-wonders of the world will best be understood and felt by those who have visited Wales, Scotland, Switzerland, or the mountainous regions of America or Asia.

THE ANDES.

Some of the loftiest and most extensive mountains in the world, are the Andes, in South America. These stupendous hills, called by the Spaniards the =Cordilleras=, (from the word cord or chain,) =i. e.=, the chains of the Andes, stretch north and south near the western coast, from the isthmus of Darien, through the whole of the continent of South America, to the straits of Magellan. In the north, there are three chains of separate ridges; but in advancing from Popayan toward the south, the three chains unite into a single group, which is continued far beyond the equator. In Equador, near Quito, the more elevated summits of this group are ranged in two rows, (as seen in the cut below,) which form a double crest to the Cordilleras. The extent of the Andes mountains is not less than four thousand three hundred miles, from one end to the other.

“Rocks rich in gems, and mountains big with mines, That on the high equator ridgy rise, Whence many a bursting stream auriferous plays.”—THOMSON.

In this country, the operations of nature appear to have been carried on on a larger scale, and with a bolder hand, than elsewhere; and in consequence, the whole is distinguished by a peculiar magnificence. Even the plain of Quito, which may be considered as the base of the Andes, is more elevated above the sea than the summits of many European mountains. In different places the Andes rise more than one-third higher than the famous peak of Teneriffe, the highest land in the ancient hemisphere. Their cloud-enveloped summits, though exposed to the rays of the sun in the torrid zone, are covered with eternal snows, and below them the storm is seen to burst, and the exploring traveler hears the thunder roll, and sees the lightnings dart beneath his feet. Throughout the whole of the range of these extensive mountains, as far as they have been explored, there is a certain boundary, above which the snow never melts; which boundary, in the torrid zone, has been ascertained to be fourteen thousand, six hundred feet, or nearly three miles above the level of the sea.

The ascent to the plain of Quito, on which stands Chimborazo, Cotopaxi, Pichincha, &c., is thus described by Don Juan de Ulloa:

“The ruggedness of the road from Taraguaga, leading up the mountain, is not easily described. The declivity is so great, in some parts, that the mules can scarcely keep their footing; and, in others, the acclivity is equally difficult. The trouble of sending people before to mend the road, the pain arising from the many falls and bruises, and the being constantly wet to the skin, might be supported; but these inconveniences are augmented by the sight of such frightful precipices and deep abysses, as excite in the mind constant terror. The road, in some places, is so steep, and yet so narrow, that the mules are obliged to slide down without making any use whatever of their feet. On one side of the rider, in this situation, rises an eminence of many hundred yards; and, on the other, is an abyss of equal depth; so that, if he should give the least check to his mule, and destroy the equilibrium, both must inevitably perish.

“Having traveled nine days in this manner, slowly winding along the sides of the mountains, we began to find the whole country covered with a hoar-frost; and a hut, in which we reposed, had ice in it. At length, after a perilous journey of fifteen days, we arrived upon a plain, at the extremity of which stands the city of Quito, the capital of one of the most charming regions in the world. Here, in the center of the torrid zone, the heat is not only very tolerable, but, in some places, the cold is even painful. Here the inhabitants enjoy the temperature and advantages of perpetual spring; the fields being constantly covered with verdure, and enameled with flowers of the most lively colors. But although this beautiful region is more elevated than any other country in the world, and it employs so many days of painful journey in the ascent, it is itself overlooked by tremendous mountains, their sides being covered with snow, while their summits are flaming with volcanoes. These mountains seem piled one upon the other, and to rise, with great boldness, to an astonishing hight. However, at a determined point above the surface of the sea, the congelation is found at the same hight in all the mountains. Those parts which are not subject to a continual frost, have here and there growing upon them a species of rush, resembling the broom, but much softer and more flexible. Toward the extremity of the part where the rush grows, and the cold begins to increase, is found a vegetable with a round bulbous head. Higher still, the earth is bare of vegetation, and seems covered with eternal snow. The most remarkable of the Andes are the mountains of Chimborazo, Cotopaxi, and Pichincha.”

CHIMBORAZO.

This is the most lofty and majestic peak of the Andes, and has a circular summit. It is twenty-two thousand feet, or more than four miles high. On the shores of the ocean, after the long rains of winter, Chimborazo appears like a cloud in the horizon. It detaches itself from the neighboring summits, and raises its lofty head over the whole chain of the Andes. Travelers who have approached the summits of Mont Blanc and Mont Rose, are alone capable of feeling the effect of such vast, majestic, and solemn scenery.

The bulk of Chimborazo is so enormous, that the part which the eye embraces at once, near the limit of the snows, is twenty-two thousand, nine hundred and sixty-eight feet, or four miles and a third in breadth. The extreme rarity of the strata of air across which the summits of the Andes are seen, contributes greatly to the splendor of the snow and the magical effect of its reflection. Under the tropics, at a hight of sixteen thousand, four hundred feet, or upward of three miles, the azure vault of the heavens appears of an indigo tint; while, in so pure and transparent an atmosphere, the outlines of the mountains seem to detach themselves from the sky, and produce an effect at once sublime, awful, and profoundly impressive.

With the exception of the loftiest of the Himalaya, in Asia, Chimborazo is the highest known mountain in the world. Humboldt, Bonpland, and Montufar, were persevering enough to approach within one thousand, six hundred feet of the summit of this mighty king of mountains. Being aided in their ascent by a train of volcanic rocks, destitute of snow, they thus attained the amazing hight of nearly four miles above the level of the sea; and the former of these naturalists is persuaded that they might have reached the highest summit, had it not been for the intervention of a great crevice, or gap, which they were unable to cross. They were, therefore, obliged to descend, after experiencing great inconveniences and many unpleasant sensations. For three or four days, even after their return into the plain, they were not free from sickness, and an uncomfortable feeling, owing, as they suppose, to the vast proportion of oxygen in the atmosphere above. Long before they reached the above surprising hight, they had been abandoned by their guides, the Indians, who had taken alarm and were fearful of their lives. So great was the fall of snow on their return, that they could scarcely recognize each other, and they all suffered dreadfully from the intenseness of the cold.

A great number of Spaniards formerly perished in crossing the vast and dangerous deserts which lie on the declivity of Chimborazo; being now, however, better acquainted with them, such misfortunes seldom occur, especially as very few take this route, unless there be a prospect of calm and serene weather.

COTOPAXI.

This mountain is the loftiest of those volcanoes of the Andes which, at recent epochs, have undergone eruptions. Notwithstanding it lies near the equator, its summits are covered with perpetual snows. The absolute hight of Cotopaxi is eighteen thousand, eight hundred and seventy-six feet, or three miles and a half; consequently it is two thousand, six hundred and twenty-two feet, or half a mile, higher than Vesuvius would be, were that mountain placed on the top of the peak of Teneriffe! Cotopaxi is the most mischievous of the volcanoes in the vicinity of Quito, and its explosions are the most frequent and disastrous. The masses of scoriæ, and the pieces of rock, thrown out of this volcano, cover a surface of several square leagues, and would form, were they heaped together, a prodigious mountain. In 1738, the flames of Cotopaxi rose three thousand feet, or upward of half a mile, above the brink of the crater. In 1744, the roarings of this volcano were heard at the distance of six hundred miles. On the fourth of April, 1768, the quantity of ashes ejected at the mouth of Cotopaxi was so great, that it was dark till three in the afternoon. The explosion which took place in 1803, was preceded by the sudden melting of the snows which covered the mountain. For twenty years before no smoke or vapor, that could be perceived, had issued from the crater; but in a single night the subterraneous fires became so active, that at sunrise the external walls of the cone, heated to a very considerable temperature, appeared naked, and of the dark color which is peculiar to vitrified scoriæ. “At the port of Guyaquil,” observes Humboldt, “fifty-two leagues distant in a straight line from the crater, we heard, day and night, the noise of this volcano, like continued discharges of a battery; and we distinguished these tremendous sounds even on the Pacific ocean.”

The form of Cotopaxi is the most beautiful and regular of the colossal summits of the high Andes. It is a perfect cone, which, covered with a perpetual layer of snow, shines with dazzling splendor at the setting of the sun, and detaches itself in the most picturesque manner from the azure vault above. This covering of snow conceals from the eye of the observer even the smallest inequalities of the soil; no point of rock, no stony mass, penetrating this coat of ice, or breaking the regularity of the figure of the cone.

PICHINCHA.

Though celebrated for its great hight, Pichincha is three thousand, eight hundred and forty-nine feet, or three-fourths of a mile, lower than the perpendicular elevation of Cotopaxi. It was formerly a volcano; but the mouth or crater on one of its sides is now covered with sand or calcined matter, so that at present neither smoke nor ashes issue from it.

When it was ascended by Don George Juan and Don Antonio de Ulloa, for the purpose of their astronomical observations, they found the cold on the top of this mountain extremely intense, the wind very violent, and the fog, or, in other words, the cloud, so thick, that objects at the distance of six or eight paces were scarcely discernible. On the air becoming clear, by the clouds descending nearer the earth, in such a manner as to surround the mountain on all sides to a vast distance, these clouds afforded a lively representation of the sea, in which the top of the mountain seemed to stand, like an island in the center.

“With aspect mild, and elevated eye, Behold him seated on a mount serene, Above the fogs of sense, and passion’s storm: All the black cares and tumults of this life, Like harmless thunders, breaking at his feet.”—YOUNG.

When the clouds descended, the astronomers heard the dreadful noise of tempests, which discharged themselves from them on the adjacent country. They saw the lightning issue from the clouds, and heard the thunder roll far beneath them. While the lower parts were thus involved in tempests of thunder and rain, they enjoyed a delightful serenity; the wind abated, the sky cleared, and the enlivening rays of the sun moderated the severity of the cold. But when the clouds rose, their density rendered respiration difficult: snow and hail fell continually, and the winds returned with such violence, that it was impossible to overcome the fear of being blown down the precipices, or of being buried by the accumulation of ice and snow, or by the enormous fragments of rocks which rolled around them. Every crevice in their hut was stopped, and though the hut was small, was crowded with inhabitants, and several lamps were constantly burning, the cold was so great, that each individual was obliged to have a chafing-dish of coals, and several men were employed every morning in removing the snow which had fallen during the night. Their feet were swollen, and they became so tender and sensible, that walking was attended with extreme pain; their hands also were covered with chilblains, and their lips were so swollen and chapped, that every motion in speaking brought blood.

MOUNT ETNA.

“Now under sulphurous Cuma’s sea-bound coast, And vast Sicilia, lies the shaggy breast Of snowy Etna, nurse of endless frost, The pillared prop of heaven, forever pressed: Forth from whose sulph’rous caverns issuing rise Pure liquid fountains of tempestuous fire, Which vail in ruddy mists the noonday skies, While wrapt in smoke the eddying flames aspire, Or gleaming through the night with hideous roar, Far o’er the redd’ning main huge rocky fragments pour.

“But he, Vulcanian monster, to the clouds The fiercest, hottest inundations throws, While, with the burthen of incumbent woods, And Etna’s gloomy cliffs o’erwhelmed he glows. There on his flinty bed outstretch’d he lies, Whose pointed rock his tossing carcass wounds; There with dismay he strikes beholding eyes, Or frights the distant ear with horrid sounds.”—WEST.

Mount Etna, one of the most majestic of all the volcanoes, which the ancients considered as one of the highest mountains in the world, and on the summit of which they believed that Deucalion and Pyrrha sought refuge, to save themselves from the universal deluge, is situated on the plain of Catania, in Sicily.

Its elevation above the level of the sea has been estimated at ten thousand, nine hundred and sixty-three feet, or upward of two miles. On clear days it is distinctly seen from Valetta, the capital of Malta, a distance of one hundred and fifty miles. It is incomparably the largest burning mountain in Europe. From its sides other mountains arise, which, in different ages, have been ejected in single masses from its enormous crater. The most extensive lavas of Vesuvius do not exceed seven miles in length, while those of Etna extend to fifteen, twenty, and some even to thirty miles. The crater of Etna is seldom less than a mile in circuit, and sometimes is two or three miles; but the circumference of the Vesuvian crater is never more than half a mile, even when widely distended, in its most destructive conflagrations. And, lastly, the earthquakes occasioned by these adjacent volcanoes, their eruptions, their showers of ignited stones, and the destruction and desolation which they create, are severally proportionate to their respective dimensions.

A journey up Etna is considered as an enterprise of importance, as well from the difficulty of the route, as from the distance, it being thirty miles from Catania to the summit of the mountain. Its gigantic bulk, its sublime elevation, and the extensive, varied, and grand prospects which are presented from its summit, have, however, induced the curious in every age to ascend and examine it; and not a few have transmitted, through the press, the observations which they have made during their arduous journey. From its vast base it rises like a pyramid to the perpendicular hight of two miles, by an acclivity nearly equal on all sides, forming with the horizon an angle of about fifteen degrees, which becomes greater on approaching the crater; but the inclination of the steepest part of the cone nowhere exceeds an angle of forty-five degrees. This prodigious volcano may be compared to a forge, which, in proportion to the violence of the fire, to the nature of the fossil matters on which it acts, and of the gases which urge and set it in motion, produces, destroys, and reproduces, a variety of forms; and of this, as of all active volcanoes, we may say in the language of Young,

“The dread volcano ministers to good; Its smothered flames might undermine the world Loud Etnas fulminate in love to man.”

The top of Etna being above the common region of vapors, the heavens, at this elevation, appear with an unusual splendor. Brydone and his company observed, as they ascended in the night, that the number of the stars seemed to be infinitely increased, and the light of each was brighter than usual. The whiteness of the milky way was like a pure flame which spread across the heavens; and, with the naked eye, they could observe clusters of stars which were invisible from below. They likewise noticed several of those meteors called falling stars, which appeared as much elevated here as when viewed from the plain beneath.

This single mountain contains an epitome of the different climates throughout the world, presenting at once all the seasons of the year, and all the varieties of produce. It is accordingly divided into three distinct zones or regions, which may be distinguished as the torrid, temperate, and frigid, but which are known by the names of the cultivated region, the woody or temperate region, and the frigid or desert region. The former of these extends through twelve miles of the ascent toward the summit, and is almost incredibly abundant in pastures and fruit-trees of every description. It is covered with towns, villages and monasteries; and the number of inhabitants spread over its surface is estimated at one hundred and twenty thousand. In ascending to the woody or temperate region, the scene changes; it is a new climate, a new creation. Below, the heat is suffocating; but here, the air is mild and fresh. The turf is covered with aromatic plants; and the gulfs, which formerly ejected torrents of fire, are changed into woody valleys. Nothing can be more picturesque than this; the inequality of the soil displaying every moment some variety of scene: here, the ash and flowering thorns form domes of verdure; and there, the chestnut-trees grow to an enormous size. The one called =castagno de cento cavilli=, according to Brydone and Glover, has a circumference of two hundred and four feet. Many of the oaks also are of a prodigious size. Mr. Swinburne measured one which had a circumference of twenty-eight feet. The last, or desert region, commences more than a mile above the level of the sea. The lower part is covered with snow in winter only; but on the upper half of this sterile district the snows continually lie.

The cone of Etna is, in a right line, about a mile in ascent. The crater is about a mile and a half in circumference; and from the inner part of this, a column of smoke constantly rises; while the liquid fiery matter may be seen rolling, rising and falling within. As to the vastness and beauty of the prospect from the summit of Etna, all writers agree that it is probably unsurpassed. M. Houel was there at sunrise, when the horizon was perfectly clear, and the coast of Calabria, as seen in the distance, appeared to the eye misty, and undistinguishable from the sea. The sky above was specked with the light floating clouds that are so often seen in that delightful climate before the rising of the sun; and in the calm silence all nature seemed waiting the coming of the orb of day. And very soon the promise thus given began to be fulfilled. In a short time a fiery radiance appeared in the east. The fleecy clouds were tinged with purple; the atmosphere became strongly illuminated, and, reflecting the rays of the sun, seemed to be filled with a bright refulgence of flame. Although the heavens were thus enlightened, the sea still retained its dark azure, and the fields and forests did not yet reflect the rays of the sun. The gradual rising of this luminary, however, soon diffused light over the hills which lie below the peak of Etna. This last stood like an island in the midst of the ocean, with luminous points multiplying every moment around, and spreading over a wider extent with the greatest rapidity. It was, he said, as if the world had been observed suddenly to spring from the night of non-existence.

“Ere the rising sun Shone o’er the deep, or ’mid the vault of night The moon her silver lamp suspended; ere The vales with springs were watered, or with groves Of oak or pine the ancient hills were crowned; Then the Great Spirit, whom his works adore, Within his own deep essence viewed the forms, The forms eternal of created things: The radiant sun; the moon’s nocturnal lamp; The mountains and the streams: the ample stores Of earth, of heaven, of nature. From the first, On that full scene his love divine he fixed, His admiration. Till, in time complete, What he admired and loved, his vital power Unfolded into being. Hence the breath Of life, informing each organic frame; Hence the green earth, and wild resounding waves; Hence light and shade, alternate; warmth and cold; And bright autumnal skies, and vernal showers, And all the fair variety of things.”—AKENSIDE.

The most sublime object, however, which the summit of Etna presents, is the immense mass of its own colossal body. Its upper region exhibits rough and craggy cliffs, rising perpendicularly, fearful to the view, and surrounded by an assemblage of fugitive clouds, to increase the wild variety of the scene. Amid the multitude of woods in the middle or temperate region, are numerous mountains, which, in any other situation, would appear of a gigantic size, but which, compared to Etna, are mere mole-hills. Lastly, the eye contemplates with admiration the lower region, the most extensive of the three, adorned with elegant villas and castles, verdant hills and flowery fields, and terminated by the extensive coast, where to the south stands the beautiful city of Catania, to which the waves of the neighboring sea serve as a mirror.

Etna has been celebrated as a volcano from the remotest antiquity. Eruptions are recorded by Diodorus Siculus, as having happened five hundred years before the Trojan war, or sixteen hundred and ninety-three years before the Christian era.

“Etna roars with dreadful ruins nigh, Now hurls a bursting cloud of cinders high, Involved in smoky whirlwinds to the sky; With loud displosion to the starry frame, Shoots fiery globes, and furious floods of flame: Now from her bellowing caverns burst away Vast piles of melted rocks in open day. Her shattered entrails wide the mountain throws, And deep as hell her flaming center glows.”—WARTON.

In 1669, the torrent of burning lava inundated a space fourteen miles in length, and four in breadth, burying beneath it part of Catania, till at length it precipitated itself into the sea. For several months before the lava broke out, the old mouth, or great crater of the summit, was observed to send forth much smoke and flame, and the top had fallen in, so that the mountain was much lowered.

Eighteen days before, the sky was very thick and dark, with thunder, lightning, frequent concussions of the earth, and dreadful subterraneous bellowings. On the eleventh of March, about sunset, an immense gulf opened in the mountain, into which when stones were thrown, they could not be heard to strike the bottom. Ignited rocks, fifteen feet in length, were hurled to the distance of a mile; while others of a smaller size were carried three miles. During the night, the red-hot lava burst out of a vineyard twenty miles below the great crater, and ascended into the air to a considerable hight. In its course, it destroyed five thousand habitations, and filled up a lake several fathoms deep. It shortly after reached Catania, rose over the walls, whence it ran for a considerable length into the sea, forming a safe and beautiful harbor, which was, however, soon filled up by a similar torrent of inflamed matter. This is the stream, the hideous deformity of which, devoid of vegetation, still disfigures the south and western borders of Catania, and on which part of the noble modern city is built.

The showers of scoriæ and sand which, after a lapse of two days, followed this eruption, formed a mountain called Monte Rosso, having a base of about two miles, and a perpendicular hight of seven hundred and fifty feet. On the twenty-fifth, the whole mountain, even to the most elevated peak, was agitated by a tremendous earthquake. The highest crater of Etna, which was one of the loftiest parts of the mountain, then sunk into the volcanic gulf, and in the place which it had occupied, there now appeared nothing but a wide gulf, more than a mile in extent, from which issued enormous quantities of smoke, ashes and stones.

In 1809, twelve new craters opened about half-way down the mountain, and threw out rivers of burning lava, by which several estates were covered to the depth of thirty or forty feet; and during three or four successive nights, a very large river of red-hot lava was distinctly seen, in its whole extent, running down from the mountain.

In 1811, several mouths opened on the eastern side of the mountain: being nearly in the same line, and at equal distances, they presented to the view a striking spectacle; torrents of burning matter, discharged with the greatest force from the interior of the volcano, illuminated the horizon to a great extent. An immense quantity of matter, which was driven to considerable distances, was discharged from these apertures, the largest of which continued for several months to emit torrents of fire. Even at the time when it had the appearance of being choked, there suddenly issued from it clouds of ashes, which descended, in the form of rain, on the city of Catania and its environs, as well as on the fields situated at a very considerable distance. A roaring, resembling that of a sea in the midst of a tempest, was heard to proceed from the interior of the mountain; and this sound, accompanied from time to time by dreadful explosions, resembling thunder, reëchoed through the valleys, and spread terror on every side.

MOUNT VESUVIUS.

“The fluid lake that works below, Bitumen, sulphur, salt, and iron scum, Heaves up its boiling tide. The lab’ring mount Is torn with agonizing throes. At once, Forth from its sides disparted, blazing pours A mighty river; burning in prone waves, That glimmer through the night, to yonder plain. Divided there, a hundred torrent streams, Each plowing up its bed, roll dreadful on, Resistless. Villages, and woods, and rocks, Fall flat before their sweep. The region round, Where myrtle-walks and groves of golden fruit Rose fair; where harvest wav’d in all its pride; And where the vineyard spread its purple store, Maturing into nectar; now despoiled Of herb, leaf, fruit and flower, from end to end Lies buried under fire, a glowing sea!”—MALLET.

This celebrated volcano, which has for so many ages attracted the attention of mankind, and the desolating eruptions of which have been so often and so fatally experienced, is distant, in an eastern direction, about seven miles from Naples. It rises, insulated, upon a vast and well cultivated plain, presenting two summits on the same base, in which particular it resembles Mount Parnassus. One of these, La Somma, is generally agreed to have been the Vesuvius of Strabo and the ancients; the other, having the greatest elevation, is the mouth of the volcano, which almost constantly emits smoke. Its hight above the level of the sea, is thirty-nine hundred feet, and it may be ascended by three different routes, which are all very steep and difficult, from the conical form of the mountain, and the loose ashes which slip from under the feet: still, from the base to the summit, the distance is not more than three Italian miles. The circumference of the platform on the top, is five thousand and twenty-four feet, or nearly a mile. Thence may be seen Portici, Capræa, Ischia, Pausilippo, and the whole coast of the gulf of Naples, bordered with orange-trees: the prospect is that of Paradise seen from the infernal regions.

On approaching the mountain, its aspect does not convey any impression of terror, nor is it gloomy, being cultivated for more than two-thirds of its hight, and having its brown top alone barren. There all verdure ceases; yet, when it appears covered with clouds, which sometimes encompass its middle only, this circumstance rather adds to than detracts from the magnificence of the spectacle. Upon the lavas which the volcano long ago ejected, and which, like great furrows, extend into the plain and to the sea, are built houses, villages and towns. Gardens, vineyards and cultivated fields surround them; but a sentiment of sorrow, blended with apprehensions about the future, arises on the recollection that, beneath a soil so fruitful and so smiling, lie edifices, gardens and whole towns swallowed up. Portici rests upon Herculaneum; its environs upon Resina; and at a little distance is Pompeii, in the streets of which, after more than seventeen centuries of non-existence, the astonished traveler now walks. After a long interval of repose, in the first year of the reign of Titus, (the seventy-ninth of the Christian era,) the volcano suddenly broke out, ejecting thick clouds of ashes and pumice-stones, beneath which Herculaneum, Stabia and Pompeii were completely buried. This eruption was fatal to the elder Pliny, the historian, who fell a victim to his humanity and love of science. Even at this day, in speaking of Vesuvius, the remembrance of his untimely death excites a melancholy regret. All the coast to the east of the gulf of Naples was, on the above occasion, ravaged and destroyed, presenting nothing but a long succession of ejected matters from Herculaneum to Stabia. The destruction did not extend to the western part, but stopped at Naples, which suffered comparatively little.

Thirty-eight eruptions of Vesuvius are recorded in history up to the year 1806. That of 1779, has been described by Sir William Hamilton, as among the most remarkable, from its extraordinary and terrific appearance. During the whole of July, the mountain was in a state of considerable fermentation, subterraneous explosions and rumbling noises being heard, and quantities of smoke thrown up with great violence, sometimes with red-hot stones, scoriæ, and ashes. On the fifth of August, the volcano was greatly agitated, a white sulphurous smoke, apparently four times the hight and size of the volcano itself, issuing from the crater, at the same time that vast quantities of stones, &c., were thrown up to the supposed hight of two thousand feet. The liquid lava, having cleared the rim of the crater, flowed down the sides of the mountain to the distance of four miles. The air was darkened by showers of reddish ashes, blended with long filaments of a vitrified matter resembling glass.

On the seventh, at midnight, a fountain of fire shot up from the crater to an incredible hight, casting so bright a light, that the smallest objects were clearly distinguishable at any place within six miles of the volcano. On the following evening, after a tremendous explosion, which broke the windows of the houses at Portici, another fountain of liquid fire rose to the surprising hight of ten thousand feet, (nearly two miles,) while puffs of the blackest smoke accompanied the red-hot lava, interrupting its splendid brightness here and there by patches of the darkest hue. The lava was partly directed by the wind toward Ottaiano, on which so thick a shower of ashes, blended with vast pieces of scoriæ, fell, that had it been of longer continuance, that town would have shared the fate of Pompeii. It took fire in several places; and had there been much wind, the inhabitants would have been burned in their houses, it being impossible for them to stir out. To add to the horror of the scene, incessant volcanic lightning darted through the black cloud that surrounded them, while the sulphureous smell and heat would scarcely allow them to draw their breath. In this dreadful state they remained nearly half an hour. The remaining part of the lava, still red-hot and liquid, fell on the top of Vesuvius, and covered its whole cone, together with that of La Somma, and the valley between them, thus forming one complete body of fire, which could not be less than two miles and a half in breadth, and casting a heat to the distance of at least six miles around.

The eruption of 1794 is accurately described by the above writer; but has not an equal degree of interest with the one cited above. We subjoin a few particulars, among which is a circumstance well deserving notice, as it leads to an estimate of the degree of heat in volcanoes. Sir William says that although the town of Torre del Greco was instantly surrounded with red-hot lava, the inhabitants saved themselves by coming out of the tops of their houses on the following day. It is evident, observes Mr. Kirwan, that if this lava had been hot enough to melt even the most fusible stones, these persons must have been suffocated.

This eruption happened on the fifteenth of June, at ten o’clock at night, and was announced by a shock of an earthquake, which was distinctly felt at Naples. At the same moment a fountain of bright fire, attended with a very black smoke and a loud report, was seen to issue, and rise to a considerable hight, from about the middle of the cone of Vesuvius. It was hastily succeeded by other fountains, fifteen of which were counted, all in a direct line, tending for the space of about a mile and a half downward, toward the towns of Resina and Torre del Greco. This fiery scene, this great operation of nature, was accompanied by the loudest thunder, the incessant reports of which, like those of a numerous heavy artillery, were attended by a continued hollow murmur, similar to that of the roaring of the ocean during a violent storm. Another blowing noise resembled that of the ascent of a large flight of rockets. The houses at Naples were for several hours in a constant tremor, the doors and windows shaking and rattling incessantly, and the bells ringing. At this awful moment the sky, from a bright full moon and starlight, became obscured; the moon seemed eclipsed, and was soon lost in obscurity. The murmur of the prayers and lamentations of a numerous population, forming various processions, and parading the streets, added to the horrors of the scene.

On the following day a new mouth was opened on the opposite side of the mountain, facing the town of Ottaiano: from this aperture a considerable stream of lava issued, and ran with great velocity through a wood, which it burnt; but it stopped, after having run about three miles in a few hours, before it reached the vineyards and cultivated lands. The lava which had flowed from several new mouths on the south side of the mountain, reached the sea into which it ran, after having overwhelmed, burnt and destroyed the greater part of Torre del Greco, through the center of which it took its course. This town contained about eighteen thousand inhabitants, all of whom escaped, with the exception of about fifteen, who through age or infirmity, were overwhelmed in their houses by the lava. Its rapid progress was such, that their goods and effects were entirely abandoned.

It was ascertained some time after, that a considerable part of the crater had fallen in, so as to have given a great extension to the mouth of Vesuvius, which was conjectured to be nearly two miles in circumference. This sinking of the crater was chiefly on the west side, opposite Naples, and, in all probability, occurred early in the morning of the eighteenth, when a violent shock of an earthquake was felt at Resina, and other places situated at the foot of the volcano. The clouds of smoke which issued from the now widely extended mouth of Vesuvius, were of such a density as to appear to force their passage with the utmost difficulty. One cloud heaped itself on another, and, succeeding each other incessantly, they formed in a few hours such a gigantic and elevated column, of the darkest hue, over the mountain, as seemed to threaten Naples with immediate destruction, it having at one time been bent over the city, and appearing to be much too massive and ponderous to remain long suspended in the air.

From the above time, till 1804, Vesuvius remained in a state of almost constant tranquillity. Symptoms of a fresh eruption had manifested themselves for several months, when at length on the night of the eleventh of August, a deep roaring was heard at the hermitage of Salvador, and the places adjacent to the mountain, accompanied by shocks of an earthquake, which were sensibly felt at Resina. On the following morning, at noon, a thick black smoke rose from the mouth of the crater, which, dilating prodigiously, covered the whole volcano. In the evening, loud explosions were heard; and at Naples a column of fire was seen to rise from the aperture, carrying up stones in a state of complete ignition, which fell again into the crater. The noise by which these igneous explosions were accompanied, resembled the roaring of the most dreadful tempest and the whistling of the most furious winds; while the celerity with which the substances were ejected was such, that the first emission had not terminated when it was succeeded by a second. Small monticules were at this time formed of a fluid matter, resembling a vitreous paste of a red color, which flowed from the mouth of the crater; and these became more considerable in proportion as the matter accumulated.

In this state the eruption continued for several days, the fire being equally intense, with frequent and dreadful noises. On the twenty-eighth, amid these fearful symptoms, another aperture, ejecting fire and stones, situated behind the crater, was seen from Naples. The burning mass of lava which escaped from the crater on the following day, was distinguished from Torre del Greco, having the appearance of a vitreous fluid, and advancing toward the base of the mountain between the south and south-west. It reached the base on the thirtieth, having flowed from the aperture, in less than twenty-four hours, a distance of three thousand and fifty-three feet, while its mean breadth appeared to be about three hundred and fifty, but at the base, eight hundred and sixty feet. In its course it divided into four branches, and finally reached a spot called the Guide’s Retreat. Its entire progress to this point was more than a mile, so that, taking a mean proportion, this lava flowed at the rate of eighty-six feet an hour.

At the time of this eruption, Kotzebue was at Naples. Vesuvius lay opposite to his window, and when it was dark he could clearly perceive in what manner the masses of fire rolled down the mountain. As long as any glimmering of light remained, that part of the mountain was to be seen on the declivity of which the lava formed a straight but oblique line. As soon, however, as it was perfectly dark, and the mountain itself had vanished from the eye, it seemed as if a comet with a long tail stood in the sky. The spectacle was awful and grand!

Kotzebue ascended the mountain on the morning succeeding the opening of a new gulf, and approached the crater as nearly as prudence would allow. From its center ascended the sulphurous yellow cone which the eruption of this year had formed: on the other side, a thick smoke perpetually arose from the abyss opened during the preceding night. The side of the crater opposite to him, which rose considerably higher than that on which he stood, afforded a singular aspect; for it was covered with little pillars of smoke, which burst forth from it, and had some resemblance to extinguished lights. The air over the crater was actually embodied, and was clearly to be seen in a tremulous motion. Below, the volcano boiled and roared dreadfully, like the most violent hurricane; but occasionally a sudden deadly stillness ensued for some moments, after which the roaring renewed with double vehemence, and the smoke burst forth in thicker and blacker clouds. It was, he observes, as if the spirit of the mountain had suddenly tried to stop the gulf, while the flames indignantly refused to endure the confinement.

It is remarkable, that the great eruption of 1805, happened on the twelfth of August, within a day of that of the preceding year. Subterraneous noises had been previously heard, and a general apprehension of some violent commotion prevailing, the inhabitants of Torre del Greco and Annunciada had left their homes, through the apprehension of a shower of fire and ashes, similar to that which buried Pompeii. The stream of lava took the same course with that of 1794, described above, one of the arms following the direction of the great road, and rolling toward the sea. The stream soon divided again, and spreading itself with an increased celerity, swept away many houses and the finest plantations. The other branch, at first, took the direction of Portici, which was threatened; but turning, and joining the preceding one, formed a sort of islet of boiling lava in the middle, both ending in the sea, and composing a promontory of volcanic matters. In the space of twenty minutes the whole extent of ground which the lava occupied was on fire, offering a terrible yet singular spectacle, as the burning trees presented the aspect of white flames, in contrast with those of the volcanic matters, which were red. The lava swept along with it enormous masses of whatever occurred in its course, and, on its reaching the sea, nothing was to be seen or heard for a great extent of shore, beside the boiling and hissing arising from the conflict of the water and fire.

It remains now to introduce a slight notice of the eruption of 1806, which, without any sensible indication, took place on the evening of the thirty-first of May, when a bright flame rose from the mountain to the hight of about six hundred feet, sinking and rising alternately, and affording so clear a light, that a letter might have been read at the distance of a league around the mountain. On the following morning, without any earthquake preceding, as had been customary, the volcano began to eject inflamed substances from three new mouths, pretty near to each other, and about six hundred and fifty feet from the summit. The lava took the direction of Torre del Greco and Annunciada, approaching Portici, on the road leading from Naples to Pompeii. Throughout the whole of the second of June, a noise was heard, resembling that of two armies engaged, when the discharges of artillery and musketry are very brisk. The current of lava now resembled a wall of glass in a state of fusion, sparks and flashes issuing from it from time to time, with a powerful detonation. Vines, trees, houses—whatever objects, in short, it encountered on its way, were instantly overthrown or destroyed. In one part, where it met with the resistance of a wall, it formed a cascade of fire. In a few days Portici, Resina, and Torre del Greco, were covered with ashes thrown out by the volcano; and on the ninth, the two former places were deluged with a thick black rain, consisting of a species of mud filled with sulphurous particles. On the first of July, the ancient crater had wholly disappeared, being filled with ashes and lava, and a new one was formed in the eastern part of the mountain, about six hundred feet in depth, and having about the same width at the opening. Several persons, on the above day, descended about half-way down this new mouth, and remained half an hour very near the flames, admiring the spectacle presented by the liquid lava, which bubbled up at the bottom of the crater, like the fused matter in a glass-house. This eruption continued until September, made great ravages, and was considered as one of the most terrible that had occurred in the memory of the inhabitants.

MOUNT HECLA.

[See cut, page 29.]

“Still pressing on beneath Tornea’s lake, And Hecla flaming through a waste of snow, And farthest Greenland, to the pole itself, Where, falling gradual, life at length goes out, The Muse expands her solitary flight; And hov’ring o’er the wide stupendous scene, Beholds new scenes beneath another sky. Throned in his palace of cerulean ice, Here Winter holds his unrejoicing court, And through his airy hall the loud misrule Of driving tempest is forever heard; Here the grim tyrant meditates his wrath; Here arms his winds with all-subduing frost, Molds his fierce hail, and treasures up his snows.”

On proceeding along the southern coast of Iceland, and at an inconsiderable distance from Skalholt, Mount Hecla, with its three summits, presents itself to the view. Its hight is five thousand feet, or nearly a mile above the level of the sea. It is not a promontory, but lies about four miles inland. It is neither so elevated nor so picturesque as several of the surrounding Icelandic mountains; but has been more noticed than many other volcanoes of an equal extent, partly through the frequency of its eruptions, and partly from its situation, which exposes it to the view of many ships sailing to Greenland and North America. The surrounding territory has been so devastated by these eruptions, that it has been deserted.

“Vast regions dreary, bleak and bare! There on an icy mountain’s hight, Seen only by the moon’s pale light Stern Winter rears his giant form, His robe a mist, his life a storm: His frown the shiv’ring nations fly, And, hid for half the year, in smoky caverns lie.”

The natives assert that it is impossible to ascend the mountain, on account of the great number of dangerous bogs, which, according to them, are constantly emitting sulphurous flames and exhaling smoke; while the more elevated summit in the center is covered with boiling springs and large craters, which continually propel fire and smoke. To the south and west the environs present the most desolating results of frequent eruptions, the finest part of the territory being covered by torrents of melted stone, sand, ashes, and other volcanic matter; notwithstanding which, between the sinuosities of the lava in different parts, some portion of meadows, walls and broken hedges may be observed. The devastation is still greater on the north and east sides, which present dreadful traces of the ruin of the country and its habitations. Neither plants nor grass are to be met with to the extent of two leagues round the mountain, in consequence of the soil being covered with stones and lava; and in some parts, where the subterraneous fire has broken out a second time, or where the matter which was not entirely consumed has again become ignited, the fire has contributed to form small red and black hillocks and eminences, from scoriæ, pumice-stones and ashes. The nearer the mountain the larger are these hillocks, and there are some of them, the summits of which form a circular hollow, whence the subterraneous fire ejects the matter. On approaching Hecla the ground becomes almost impassable, particularly near the higher branches of lava thrown from the volcano. Round the latter is a mountain of lava, consisting of large fused stones, from forty to seventy feet high, and in the form of a rampart or wall. These stones are detached, and chiefly covered with moss; while between them are very deep holes, so that the ascent on the western side requires great circumspection. The rocks are completely reduced to pumice, dispersed in thin horizontal layers, and fractured in every direction, from which some idea may be formed of the intensity of the fire that has acted on them.

“There Winter, armed with terrors here unknown, Sits absolute on his unshaken throne; Piles up his stores amidst the frozen waste, And bids the mountains he has built stand fast; Beckons the legions of his storms away From happier scenes to make the land a prey; Proclaims the soil a conquest he has won, And scorns to share it with the distant sun.”

Sir Joseph Banks, Dr. Solander, Dr. James Lind, of Edinburgh, and Dr. Van Troil, a Swede, were the earliest adventurous travelers who ascended to the summit of Mount Hecla. This was in 1772; and the attempt was facilitated by a preceding eruption in 1766, which had greatly diminished the steepness and difficulty of the ascent. On their first landing, they found a tract of land sixty or seventy miles in extent, entirely ruined by lava, which appeared to have been in a state of complete liquefaction. To accomplish their undertaking, they had to travel from three hundred to three hundred and sixty miles over uninterrupted tracts of lava. In ascending, they were obliged to quit their horses at the first opening from which the fire had burst: a spot, which they describe as presenting lofty glazed walls and high glazed cliffs, differing from anything they had ever seen before. At another opening above, they fancied they discerned the effects of boiling water; and not far from thence, the mountain, with the exception of some bare spots, was covered with snow. The difference of aspect they soon perceived to be occasioned by the hot vapor ascending from the mountain. The higher they proceeded, the larger these spots became; and, about two hundred yards below the summit, a hole about a yard and a half in diameter, was observed, whence issued so hot a stream, that they could not measure the degree of heat with a thermometer. The cold now began to be very intense. Fahrenheit’s thermometer, which at the foot of the mountain was at fifty-four degrees, fell to twenty-four degrees; while the wind became so violent, that they were sometimes obliged to lie down, from a dread of being blown into the most dreadful precipices. On the summit itself they experienced, at one and the same time, a high degree of heat and cold; for, in the air, Fahrenheit’s thermometer constantly stood at twenty-four degrees, but when placed on the ground, it rose to one hundred and fifty-three degrees.

Messrs. Olafsen and Povelsen, two naturalists, whose travels in Iceland were undertaken by order of his Danish majesty, after a fatiguing journey up several small slopes, which occurred at intervals, and seven of which they had to pass, at length reached the summit of Mount Hecla at midnight. It was as light as at noonday, so that they had a view of an immense extent, but could perceive nothing but ice; neither fissures, streams of water, boiling springs, smoke, nor fire, were apparent. They surveyed the glaciers in the eastern part, and in the distance saw the high and square mountain of Hærdabreid, an ancient volcano, which appeared like a large castle.

Sir G. S. Mackenzie, in his travels in Iceland, ascended Mount Hecla; and from his account we extract the following interesting particulars. In proceeding to the southern extremity of the mountain, he descended, by a dangerous path, into a valley, having a small lake in one corner, and the opposite extremity bounded by a perpendicular face of rock, resembling, in its broken and rugged appearance, a stream of lava. While advancing, the sun suddenly broke through the clouds, and the brilliant reflection of his beams, from different parts of this supposed lava, as if from a surface of glass, delighted our traveler by the instantaneous conviction that he had now attained one of the principal objects connected with the plan of his expedition to Iceland. He hastened to the spot, and all his wishes were fully accomplished in the examination of an object which greatly exceeded the expectations he had formed. On ascending one of the abrupt pinnacles, which rose out of this extraordinary mass of rock, he beheld a region, the desolation of which can scarcely be paralleled. Fantastic groups of hills, craters, and lava, leading the eye to distant snow-crowned “jockuls,” (inferior mountains,) the mist rising from a waterfall; lakes, embosomed among bleak mountains; an awful profound silence; lowering clouds; marks all around of the furious action of the most destructive of elements; all combined to impress the soul with sensations of dread and wonder. The longer he and his companions contemplated this scene, the more unable they were to turn their eyes from it; and a considerable time elapsed before they could bring themselves to attend to the business which had tempted them to enter so frightful a district of the country.

Having proceeded a considerable distance along the edge of a stream of lava, a narrow part of which they crossed, they gained the foot of the south end of Mount Hecla. While, in ascending, they had to pass over rugged lava, they experienced no great difficulty in advancing; but when they reached the steepest part of the mountain, which was covered with loose slags, they sometimes lost at one step by the yielding of these, a space which had been gained by several.

Having passed a number of fissures, by leaping across some, and stepping along masses of slags which lay over others, they at length reached the summit of the first peak. The clouds now became so thick, that they began to despair of being able to proceed any further: it was, indeed, dangerous even to move; for the peak consists of a very narrow ridge of slags, not more than two feet broad, having a precipice on each side, several hundred feet in depth. One of these precipices forms the side of a vast hollow, which seems to have been one of the craters. At length the sky cleared a little, and enabled them to discover a ridge below, which seemed to connect the peak they had ascended with the middle or principal one. They lost no time in availing themselves of this opportunity, and, by balancing themselves like rope-dancers, succeeded in passing along a ridge of slags, so narrow that there was scarcely room for their feet. After a short, but very steep ascent, they gained the highest part of this celebrated mountain.

Its earliest eruption is said to have happened in 1004, since which time upward of twenty have occurred. That of 1693 was the most dreadful, and occasioned terrible devastations, the ashes having been thrown over the island in every direction, to the distance of more than one hundred miles. In 1728, a fire broke out among the surrounding lava; and also in that to the west of the volcano, in 1754, which lasted for three days. There has not been any eruption of lava since 1766; but for some years after, flames issued from the volcano.

THE GEYSERS.

[See cut on page 29.]

“Nor stops the restless fluid, mounting still, Though oft amid th’ irriguous vale of springs; But to the mountain courted by the sand, That leads it darkling on in faithful maze, Far from the parent main, it boils again! Fresh into day; and all the glittering hill Is bright with spouting rills. The crystal treasures of the liquid world, Through the stirred sands a bubbling passage burst; And welling out, around the middle steep, Or from the bottoms of the bosomed hills, In pure effusion flow.”—THOMSON.

These celebrated fountains, or hot spouting water springs, being nearly connected with the operations of subterraneous fire, so visible in every part of Iceland, may be properly introduced after the description of Mount Hecla, given above.

They are seldom very near the volcanoes, but are dispersed over the whole country, and are even to be found on the summits of several of the ice mountains. The largest and most remarkable of these is situated in a large field, about sixteen miles to the north of Skalholt. At a great distance from it, on one side, are high mountains covered with ice, and on the other Hecla is seen rising above the clouds, while opposite to it is a ridge of rocks, at the foot of which water from time to time rushes forth. At the distance of a mile and a half, a loud roaring noise is heard, like that of a torrent precipitated from stupendous rocks, each ejection being accompanied by violent subterraneous detonations. The depth of the opening from which the water rushes, has not been ascertained; but some seconds elapse before a stone thrown in reaches the surface. The Danish traveler, Olafsen, asserts, that the water rises as high as sixty fathoms: while Van Troil estimates the highest jet at not more than sixty feet: the latter allows, however, that the jets may be more elevated, particularly in bad weather. The greatness of the explosive power is evinced by its not only preventing stones thrown in from sinking, but even forcing them up to a very great hight, together with the water, and splitting the pebbles into a thousand pieces. The heat was found by Van Troil to be two hundred and twelve degrees of Fahrenheit, the boiling point. The edges of the pipe or basin are covered by a coarse stalactitic rind, and the water has been found to have a petrifying quality. The opening is perfectly circular, in diameter nineteen feet, and forms above, on the surface of the ground, a basin fifty-nine feet in diameter, the edge of which is nine feet above the orifice or hole.

In speaking of the Geysers, or hot spouting springs, Horrebow observes, that if you fill a bottle at one of them, the water it contains will boil three or four times, at the same time with the water in the well. The inhabitants boil their meat in it, by putting the meat in a vessel of cold water, which they place in the hot spring.

Sir G. S. Mackenzie, whose travels in Iceland we have already cited, visited the Geysers at a season favorable to his observations, the latter end of July. He found the cultivation of the surrounding territory much higher than might have been inferred from the idea generally entertained of the barren and unproductive state of Iceland. All the flat ground in that quarter of the island was swampy, but not so much so as to impede the progress of the party, who, having passed several hot springs to the eastward of Skalholt, and others rising among the low hills they had left to the right, in proceeding to the great Geyser, came to a farm-house, situated on a rising ground in the midst of the bogs. Here the people were busily employed in making hay, a scene which afforded a pleasing change from the dreary solitude they had quitted. The whole of this extensive district, which abounds in grass, would, if drained, our traveler observes, prove a very rich pasture country. Farther on they came to several cottages at the foot of the mountain, round which they turned, and came in sight of the hill having the Geysers at one of its sides. This hill, in hight not more than three hundred feet, is separated from the mountain, toward the west, by a narrow slip of flat boggy ground, connected with that which extends over the whole valley. Having crossed this bog, and a small river which ran through it, the party came to a farm-house at the east end of the hill, and arrived at a spot where the most wonderful and awful effects of subterraneous heat are exhibited.

On the east side of the hill there are several banks of clay, from some of which steam rises in different places; and in others there are cavities, in which water boils briskly. In a few of these cavities, the water being mixed with clay, is thick and varies in color; but is chiefly red and gray. Below these banks there is a gentle and uniform slope, composed of matter which, at some distant period, has been deposited by springs which no longer exist. The strata or beds thus formed, seemed to have been broken by shocks of earthquakes, particularly near the great Geyser. Within a space not exceeding a quarter of a mile, numerous orifices are seen in the old incrustations, from which boiling water and steam issue, with different degrees of force. At the northern extremity is situated the great Geyser, sufficiently distinguishable from the others by every circumstance connected with it. On approaching this spot, it appeared that a mount had been formed of irregular, rough-looking depositions, upon the ancient regular strata, the origin of which had been similar. The slope of the latter has caused the mount to spread more on the east side; and the recent depositions of the water may be traced till they coincide with them. The perpendicular hight of the mount is about seven feet, measured from the highest part of the surface of the old depositions. From these the matter composing the mount may be readily distinguished, on the west side, where a disruption has taken place. On the top of this mount is a basin, which was found to extend fifty-six feet in one direction, and forty-six in another.

At a quarter before three o’clock in the afternoon, when the party reached the spot, they found the basin full of hot water, a little of which was running over. Having satisfied their curiosity at that time, they proceeded to examine some other places, whence they saw water ascending. Above the great Geyser, at a short distance, they came to a large irregular opening, the beauties of which, the writer observes, it is hardly possible to describe. The water with which it was filled was as clear as crystal, and perfectly still, although nearly at the boiling point. Through it they saw white incrustations, forming a variety of figures and cavities, to a great depth, and carrying the eye into a vast and dark abyss, over which the crust supporting them formed a dome of an inconsiderable thickness; a circumstance which though not of itself agreeable, contributed much to the effects of this awful scene.

Having pitched their tent at the distance of about one hundred yards from the Geyser, and so arranged matters that a regular watch might be kept during the night, Sir G. S. Mackenzie took his station at eleven o’clock, and his companions lay down to sleep. About ten minutes before twelve he heard subterraneous discharges, and waked his friends. The water in the basin was greatly agitated, and flowed over, but there was not any jet. The same occurred at half past two. At five minutes past four on Saturday morning, an alarm was given by one of the company. As our traveler lay next the door of the tent, he instantly drew aside the canvas, when at the distance of little more than fifty yards, a most extraordinary and magnificent appearance presented itself. From a place they had not before noticed, they saw water thrown up, and steam issuing with a tremendous noise. There was little water; but the force with which the steam escaped, produced a white column of spray and vapor, at least sixty feet high. They enjoyed this astonishing and beautiful sight until seven o’clock, when it gradually disappeared.

The remaining part of the morning was occupied in examining the environs of the Geysers; and at every step they received some new gratification. Following the channel which had been formed by the water escaping from the great basin during the eruptions, they found several beautiful and delicate petrifactions. The leaves of birch and willow were seen converted into white stone, and in the most perfect state of preservation, every minute fiber being entire. Grass and rushes were in the same state, and also masses of peat. Several of these rare and elegant specimens were brought safely to Great Britain. On the outside of the mount of the Geyser, the depositions, owing to the splashing of the water, are rough and have been justly compared to the heads of cauliflowers. They are of a yellowish brown color, and are arranged around the mount, somewhat like a circular flight of steps. The inside of the basin is comparatively smooth: and the matter forming it is more compact and dense than the exterior crust; when polished it is not devoid of beauty, being of a gray color, mottled with black and white spots and streaks. The white incrustation formed by the water of the beautiful cavity before described, had taken a very curious form at the water’s edge, very much resembling the capital of a Gothic column.

THE SULPHUR MOUNTAIN.

This mountain of Iceland, distant about three miles from the village of Krisuvik, presents a phenomenon very different from the one which has just been described, viz., that of a CALDRON OF BOILING MUD. We extract the following particulars of this singular curiosity from the relation given by Sir G. S. Mackenzie in his travels in Iceland.

At the foot of the mountain is a small bank, composed chiefly of white clay and sulphur, from every part of which steam issues. Having ascended this bank, a ridge presents itself, immediately beneath which is a deep hollow, whence a profusion of vapor arises, with a confused noise of boiling and splashing, accompanied by steam escaping from narrow crevices in the rock. This hollow, as well as the whole side of the mountain opposite, being covered with sulphur and clay, it was very hazardous to walk over a soft and steaming surface of such a description. The vapor concealing the party from each other occasioned much uneasiness; and there was some hazard of the crust of sulphur breaking, or of the clay sinking beneath their feet. They were thus several times in danger of being scalded, as indeed, happened to one of the party, Mr. Bright, who accidentally plunged one of his legs into the hot clay. When the thermometer was immersed in it, to the depth of a few inches, it generally rose to within a few degrees of the boiling point. By stepping cautiously, and avoiding every little hole from which steam issued, they soon ascertained how far they might venture. Their good fortune, however, Sir George observes, ought not to tempt any person to examine this wonderful place, without being provided with two boards, with which every part of the banks may be traversed in perfect safety. At the bottom of the hollow, above described, they found the caldron of mud, which boiled with the utmost vehemence. They approached within a few yards of it, the wind favoring them in viewing every part of this singular scene. The mud was in constant agitation, and often thrown up to the hight of six or eight feet. Near this spot was an irregular space filled with water, boiling briskly. At the foot of the hill, in a hollow formed by a bank of clay and sulphur, steam rushed with great force and noise from among the loose fragments of rock.

In ascending the mountain, our travelers met with a spring of cold water, which was little to be expected in such a place. At a greater elevation, they came to a ridge, composed entirely of sulphur and clay, joining two summits of the mountain. The smooth crust of sulphur was beautifully crystallized; and beneath it was a quantity of loose granular sulphur, which appeared to be collecting and crystallizing, as it was sublimed along with the steam. On removing the sulphurous crust, steam issued, and annoyed the party so much, that they could not examine this place to any depth.

Beneath the ridge, on the farther side of this great bed of sulphur, an abundance of vapor escaped with a loud noise. Having crossed to the side of the mountain opposite, they walked to what is called the principal spring. This was a task of much apparent danger, as the side of the mountain to the extent of about half a mile, was covered with loose clay, into which the feet of our travelers sunk at every step. In many places there was a thin crust, beneath which the clay was wet, and extremely hot. Good fortune attended them; and without any serious inconvenience, they reached the object they had in view. A dense column of steam, mixed with a small portion of water, forced its way impetuously through a crevice in a rock, at the head of a narrow valley, or break in the mountain. The violence with which it rushed out was so great, that the noise, thus occasioned, might often be heard at the distance of several miles. During the night while the party lay in their tent at Krisuvik, they more than once listened to it with mingled awe and astonishment. Behind the column of vapor was a dark-colored rock, which added to the sublimity of the effect.

“It is quite beyond my power,” observes Sir George Mackenzie, “to offer such a description of this extraordinary place, as would convey adequate ideas of its wonders, or of its terrors. The sensations of a person, even of firm nerves, standing on a support which feebly sustains him, over an abyss where, literally, fire and brimstone are in dreadful and incessant action; having before his eyes tremendous proofs of what is going on beneath him; enveloped in thick vapors; his ears stunned with thundering noises—must be experienced before they can be understood.”

MONT BLANC.

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“When mid the lifeless summits proud Of Alpine cliffs, where to the gelid sky Snows piled on snows in wint’ry torpor lie, The rays divine of vernal Phœbus play; Th’ awakened heaps, in streamlets from on high, Roused into action, lively leap away, Glad warbling through the vales, in their new being gay.”—THOMSON.

This mountain, in Switzerland, so named on account of its white aspect, belongs to the great central chain of the Alps. It is truly gigantic, and is the most elevated mountain in Europe, rising no less than fifteen thousand, eight hundred and seventy-two feet, somewhat more than three miles, above the level of the sea, and fourteen thousand, six hundred and twenty-four feet above the lake of Geneva, in its vicinity. It is encompassed by those wonderful collections of snow and ice, called glaciers, two of the principal of which, are called Mont Dolent and Triolet. The highest part of Mont Blanc, named the Dromedary, is in the shape of a compressed hemisphere. From that point it sinks gradually, and presents a kind of concave surface of snow, in the midst of which is a small pyramid of ice. It then rises into a second hemisphere, which is named the Middle Dome; and thence descends into another concave surface, terminating in a point, which among other names bestowed on it by the Savoyards, is styled “Dome de Goute,” and may be regarded as the inferior dome.

The first successful attempt to reach the summit of Mont Blanc was made in August, 1786, by Doctor Paccard, a physician of Chamouny. He was led to make the attempt by a guide, named Balma, who, in searching for crystals, had discovered the only practicable route by which so arduous an undertaking could be accomplished. The ascent occupied fifteen hours, and the descent five, under circumstances of the greatest difficulty; the sight of the doctor, and that of his guide, Balma, being so affected by the snow and wind, as to render them almost blind, at the same time that the face of each was excoriated, and the lips exceedingly swelled.

On the first of August of the following year, 1787, the celebrated and indefatigable naturalist, M. de Saussure, set out on his successful expedition, accompanied by a servant and eighteen guides, who carried a tent and mattresses, together with the necessary accommodations and various instruments of experimental philosophy. The first night they passed under the tent, on the summit of the mountain of La Cote, four thousand, nine hundred and eight-six feet above the Priory, a large village in the vale of Chamouny, the journey thither being exempt from trouble or danger, as the ascent is always over turf, or on the solid rock; though above this place it is wholly over ice or snows.

Early next morning they traversed the glacier of La Cote, to gain the foot of a small chain of rocks, inclosed in the snows of Mont Blanc. The glacier is both difficult and dangerous, being intersected by wide, deep, irregular chasms, which frequently can be passed only by three bridges of snow, which are suspended over the abyss. After reaching the ridge of rocks, the track winds along a hollow, or valley, filled with snow, which extends north and south to the foot of the highest summit, and is divided at intervals by enormous crevices. These show the snow to be disposed in horizontal beds, each of which answers to a year, and notwithstanding the width of the fissures, the depth can in no part be measured. At four in the afternoon, the party reached the second of the three great platforms of snow they had to traverse, and here they encamped, at the hight of nine thousand, three hundred and twelve feet above the Priory, or twelve thousand, seven hundred and sixty-eight feet (nearly two miles and a half) above the level of the sea.

From the center of this platform, inclosed between the farthest summit of Mont Blanc on the south, its high steps, or terraces, on the east, and the Dome de Goute on the west, nothing but snow appears. It is quite pure, of a dazzling whiteness, and on the high summits presents a singular contrast with the sky, which in these elevated regions is almost black. Here no living being is to be seen; no appearance of vegetation: it is the abode of cold and silence. “When,” observes M. de Saussure, “I represent to myself Dr. Paccard and James Balma first arriving, on the decline of day, in these deserts, without shelter, without assistance, and even without the certainty that men could live in the places which they proposed to reach, and still pursuing their career with unshaken intrepidity, it seems impossible to admire too much their strength of mind and their courage.”

The company departed, at seven the next morning, to traverse the third and last platform, the slope of which is extremely steep, being in some places thirty-nine degrees. It terminates in precipices on all sides; and the surface of the snow was so hard, that those who went foremost were obliged to cut places for the feet with hatchets. The last slope of all presents no danger; but the air possesses so high a degree of rarity, that the strength is speedily exhausted, and on approaching the summit it was found necessary to stop at every fifteen or sixteen paces to take breath. At eleven they reached the top of the mountain, where they continued four hours and a half, during which time M. de Saussure enjoyed, with rapture and astonishment, a view the most extensive as well as the most rugged and sublime in nature, and made those observations which have rendered this expedition important to philosophy.

A light vapor, suspended in the lower regions of the air, concealed from the sight the lowest and most remote objects, such as the plains of France and Lombardy; but the whole surrounding assemblage of high summits appeared with the greatest distinctness.

M. de Saussure descended with his party, and the next morning reached Chamouny, without the smallest accident. As they had taken the precaution to wear vails of crape, their faces were not excoriated, nor their sight debilitated. The cold was not found to be so extremely piercing as it was described by Dr. Paccard. By experiments made with the hygrometer, on the summit of the mountain, the air was found to contain a sixth portion only of the humidity of that of Geneva; and to this dryness of the air, M. de Saussure imputes the burning thirst which he and his companions experienced. The balls of the electrometer diverged three lines only, and the electricity was positive. At times the air seems filled with electricity. A recent traveler (1854) says, that, in the night, his guide having come out from the cabin of the Grand Mulets, saw the ridges of the mountain apparently all on fire. He immediately communicated what he had observed to his companions, who all rushed to assure themselves of the fact, and then they saw that through the electricity generated by the tempest, all the rocks of the Grand Mulets were illuminated. They found the same phenomenon on their own persons. When they raised their arms, their fingers became phosphorescent. M. de Saussure found it required half an hour to make water boil, while at Geneva fifteen or sixteen minutes sufficed, and twelve or thirteen at the seaside. None of his party discovered the smallest difference in the taste or smell of bread, wine, meat, fruits or liquors, as some travelers have pretended is the case at great hights; but sounds were of course much weakened, from the want of objects of reflection. Of all the organs, that of respiration was most affected, the pulse of one of the guides beating ninety-eight times in a minute, that of the servant one hundred and twelve, and that of M. de Saussure one hundred and one; while at Chamouny, the pulsations respectively were forty-nine, sixty, and seventy-two. A few days afterward, Mr. Beaufoy, an English gentleman, succeeded in a similar attempt, although it was attended with greater difficulty, arising from enlargements in the chasms in the ice.

A late traveler, wandering amid the same sublime scenery that has been described, says:

“Mont Blanc is clearly visible from Geneva, perhaps once in the week, or about sixty times in the year. When he is visible, a walk to the junction of the Arve and the Rhone, either by the way of the plains on the Genevan side, or by the hights on the side toward the south of France, affords a wonderful combination of sublimity and beauty on the earth and in the heavens. Those snowy mountain ranges, so white, so pure, so dazzling in the clear azure depths, do really look as if they belonged to another world; as if, like the faces of supernatural intelligences, they were looking sadly and steadfastly on our world, to speak to us of theirs. Some of these mountain peaks of snow you can see only through the perspective of other mountains, nearer to you, and covered with verdure, which makes the snowy pyramids appear so distant, so sharply defined, so high up, so glorious; it is indeed like the voice of great truths stirring the soul. As your eye follows the range, they lie in such glittering masses against the horizon, in such grand repose; they shoot into the sky in bright weather in such infinite clearness, so pure, so flashing; that they seem never to lose the charm of a sudden and startling revelation to the mind. Are they not sublime images of the great truths of God’s own word, that sometimes indeed are vailed with clouds, but in fair weather do carry us, as in a chariot of fire and with horses of fire, into eternity, into the presence of God? The atmosphere of our hearts is so misty and stormy, that we do not see them more than sixty times a year in their glory: if every Sabbath-day we get a view of them without clouds, we do well; but when we see them as they are, then we feel their power, then we are rapt by them from earth, away, away, away, into the depths of heaven!

“In some circumstances, when we are climbing the mountains, even the mists that hang around them do add to the glory of the view; as in the rising sun, when they are so penetrated with brightness, that they softly rise over the crags as a robe of misty light, or seem like the motion of sweet Nature breathing into the atmosphere from her morning altars the incense of praise. And in the setting sun how often do they hang around the precipices, glowing with the golden and crimson hues of the west, and preventing us from clearly defining the forms of the mountains, only to make them more lovely to our view. So it is sometimes with the very clouds around God’s word, and the lights and shades upon it. There is an inscrutability of truth which sometimes increases its power, while we wait with solemn reverence for the hour when it shall be fully revealed to us; and our faith, like the setting sun, may clothe celestial mysteries with a soft and rosy-colored light, which makes them more suitable to our present existence, than if we saw them in the clear and cloudless atmosphere of a spiritual noon.

“You have a fine point for viewing Mont Blanc, without going out of the city, from the ramparts on the west side of Rousseau’s island. Here a brazen indicator is erected, with the names of the different mountain summits and ridges, so that by taking sight across the index, you can distinguish them at once. You will not mistake Mont Blanc, if you see him; but until you get accustomed to the panorama, you may easily mistake one of his court for the king, when the monarch himself is not visible.

“A still better point of view you will have at Coppet, ascending toward the Jura. In proportion as you rise from the borders of the lake, every part of the landscape becomes more beautiful, though what you wish to gain is the most commanding view of the mountains, every other object being secondary. In a bright day, nothing can be more clearly and distinctly defined than Mont Blanc, with his attendant mighty ranges, cut in dazzling snowy brightness against the clear blue sky. The sight of those glorious glittering fields and mountains of ice and snow, produces immediately a longing to be there among them. They make an impression upon the soul, of something supernatural, almost divine. Although the whole scene lying before you is so beautiful, (the lake, the verdant banks, the trees, and the lower ranges of verdure-covered mountains, constituting in themselves alone one of the loveliest pictures in the world,) yet the snowy ranges of Mont Blanc are the grand feature. Those glittering distant peaks are the only thing in the scene that takes a powerful hold upon the soul; but they do quite possess it, and tyrannize over it, with an ecstatic thralldom. One is never wearied with gazing and wondering at the glory. I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help!

“Another admirable point, much farther from the lake and the city than the preceding, and at a greater elevation, is what is called the promenade of the point Sacconex. A fine engraving of this view is printed on letter-paper for correspondence; but there is not sufficient distinctness given to the outlines of Mont Blanc and the other summits of the glittering snowy range, that seems to float in the heavens like the far-off alabaster walls of Paradise. No language, nor any engraving, can convey the ravishing magnificence and splendor, the exciting sublimity and beauty of the scene. But there are days in which the air around the mountains seems itself of such a hazy whiteness, that the snow melts into the atmosphere as it were, and dies away in the heavens like the indistinct outline of a bright but partially remembered dream. There are other days in which the fleecy clouds, like vails of light over the faces of angels, do so rest upon and mingle with the snowy summits, that you can hardly tell where one begins and the other ends. Sometimes you look upon the clouds thinking they are mountains, and then again Mont Blanc himself will be revealed in such far-off, unmoving, glittering grandeur, in such wonderful distinctness, that there is no mistaking the changeful imitations of his glory for the reality. Sometimes the clouds and the mountains together are mingled in such a multitudinous and interminable array of radiances, that it seems like the white-robed armies of heaven with their floating banners, marching and countermarching in front of the domes and jeweled battlements of the celestial city. When the fog scenery (of which I shall give you a description) takes place upon the earth, and at the same time there are such revelations of the snowy summits in the heavens, and such goings on of glory among them, and you get upon the mountain to see them, it is impossible to describe the effect, as of a vast enchantment, upon the mind.

“The view of Geneva, the lake, and the Jura mountains from Coligny is much admired; and at sunset, perhaps the world can not offer a more lovely scene. It was here that Byron took up his abode; a choice which I have wondered at, for you can not see Mont Blanc from this point, and therefore the situation is inferior to many others. Ascending the hill farther to the east, when you come to Col. Tronchin’s beautiful residence, you have perhaps the finest of all the views of Mont Blanc, in or around Geneva. Go upon the top of Col. Tronchin’s tower about half an hour before sunset, and the scene is not unworthy of comparison even with the glory of the sunrise as witnessed from the summit of the Righi. It is surprising to see how long Mont Blanc retains the light of day, and how long the snow burns in the setting sun, after his orb has sunk from your own view entirely behind the green range of the Jura. Then after a succession of tints from the crimson to the cold gray, it being manifest that the sun has left the mountain to a companionship with the stars alone, you also are ready to depart, the glory of the scene being over, when suddenly and unaccountably the snowy summits redden again, as if the sun were returning upon them, the countenance of Mont Blanc is filled with rosy light, and the cold gray gives place for a few moments to a deep warm radiant pink, (as if you saw a sudden smile playing over the features of a sleeping angel,) which at length again dies in the twilight. This phenomenon is extremely beautiful, but I know not how to account for it; nor was any one of our party wiser than I; nevertheless, our ignorance of causes need never diminish, but often increases the pleasure of beautiful sights.”

“I have said I would give you a description of the ‘fog-scenery.’ In the autumn, when the fogs prevail, it is often a thick drizzling mist in Geneva, and nothing visible, while on the mountain tops the air is pure, and the sun shining. On such a day as this, when the children of the mist tell you that on the mountains it is fair weather, you must start early for the range nearest Geneva, on the way to Chamouny, the range of the Grand Saléve, the base of which is about four miles distant, prepared to spend the day upon the mountains, and you will witness one of the most singular and beautiful scenes to be enjoyed in Switzerland.

“The day I set out was so misty, that I took an umbrella, for the fog gathered and fell like rain, and I more than doubted whether I should see the sun at all. In the midst of this mist I climbed the rocky zigzag half hewn out of the face of the mountain, and half natural, and passing the village that is perched among the high rocks, which might be a refuge for the conies, began toiling up the last ascent of the mountain, seeing nothing, feeling nothing, but the thick mist, the vail of which had closed below and behind me over village, path and precipice, and still continued heavy and dark above me, so that I thought I never should get out of it. Suddenly my head rose above the level of the fog into the clear air, and the heavens were shining, and Mont Blanc, with the whole illimitable range of snowy mountain tops around him, was throwing back the sun! An ocean of mist, as smooth as a chalcedony, as soft and white as the down of the eider-duck’s breast, lay over the whole lower world; and as I rose above it, and ascended the mountain to its overhanging verge, it seemed an infinite abyss of vapor, where only the mountain tops were visible, on the Jura range like verdant wooded islands, on the Mont Blanc range as glittering surges and pyramids of ice and snow. No language can describe the extraordinary sublimity and beauty of the view. A level sea of white mist in every direction, as far as the eye could extend, with a continent of mighty icebergs on the one side floating in it, and on the other a forest promontory, with a slight undulating swell in the bosom of the sea, like the long, smooth undulations of the ocean in a calm.

“Standing on the overhanging crags, I could hear the chime of bells, the hum of busy labor, and the lowing of cattle, buried in the mist, and faintly coming up to you from the fields and villages. Now and then a bird darted up out of the mist into the clear sun and air, and sailed in playful circles, and then dived and disappeared again below the surface. By and by the wind began to agitate the cloudy sea, and more and more of the mountains became visible. Sometimes you have a bright sunset athwart this sea of cloud, which then rolls in waves burnished and tipped with fire. When you go down into the mist again, and leave behind you the beautiful sky, a clear, bracing atmosphere, the bright sun and the snow-shining mountains, it is like passing from heaven to earth, from the brightness and serenity of the one, to the darkness and cares of the other. The whole scene is a leaf in nature’s book, which but few turn over; but how rich it is in beauty and glory, and in food for meditation, none can tell but those who have witnessed it. This is a scene in Cloud-land, which hath its mysteries of beauty, that defy the skill of the painter and engraver.

“The poet Wordsworth has given two very vivid descriptions of these mist phenomena, under different aspects from that in which I witnessed them. The first is contained in his descriptive sketches of a pedestrian tour among the Alps.

“‘’Tis morn: with gold the verdant mountain glows, More high, the snowy peaks with hues of rose. Far stretched beneath the many-tinted hills A mighty waste of mist the valley fills, A solemn sea! whose vales and mountains round Stand motionless, to awful silence bound. A gulf of gloomy blue, that opens wide And bottomless, divides the midway tide. Like leaning masts of stranded ships appear The pines, that near the coast their summits rear. Of cabins, woods and lawns a pleasant shore Bounds calm and clear the chaos still and hoar. Loud through that midway gulf ascending, sound, Unnumbered streams with hollow roar profound. Mount through the nearer mist the chant of birds, And talking voices, and the low of herds, The bark of dogs, the drowsy tinkling bell, And wild-wood mountain lutes of saddest swell.’

“But this extract is not to be compared for power to the following from the same poem, describing an Alpine sunset after a day of mist and storm upon the mountains.

“‘’Tis storm, and hid in mist from hour to hour, All day the floods a deepening murmur pour. The sky is vailed, and every cheerful sight, Dark is the region as with coming night, But what a sudden burst of overpowering light Triumphant on the bosom of the storm Glances the fire-clad eagle’s wheeling form. Eastward, in long perspective glittering, shine The wood-crowned cliffs, that o’er the lake recline. Wide o’er the Alps a hundred streams unfold, At once to pillars turned, that flame with gold. Behind his sail the peasant tries to shun The west, that burns like one dilated sun, Where in a mighty crucible expire The mountains, glowing hot, like coals of fire!’

“There was a time during the middle ages, when Chamouny was inhabited by monks. The reigning lord of the country made a present of the whole valley to a convent of Benedictine friars, in the eleventh century. Two English travelers, Messrs. Pococke and Windham, drew attention to its wonderful scenery in 1741, and now it is a grand highway of summer travel, visited annually by three or four thousand people. A visit to Mont Blanc has become a pilgrimage of fashion. Fashion does some good things in her day; and it is a great thing to have the steps of men directed into this grand temple of nature, who would otherwise be dawdling the summer perhaps at immoral watering-places. A man can hardly pass through the vale of Chamouny, before the awful face of Mont Blanc, and not feel that he is an immortal being. The great mountain looks with an eye, and speaks with a voice, that does something to wake the soul out of its slumbers.

“The sublime hymn by Coleridge, in the vale before sunrise, is the concentrated expression of all the inspiring and heaven-directing influences of the scenery. The poem is as remarkably distinguished above the whole range of poetry in our language, for its sublimity, as the mountain itself among all the great ranges of the Alps. I am determined to quote it in full, for that and the tour of Mont Blanc ought to go together; and I will present along with it the German original of the poem in twenty lines, nearly as translated by Coleridge’s admiring and affectionate relative. I am not aware that Coleridge himself ever visited the vale of Chamouny; and if not, then that wonderful hymn to Mont Blanc was the work of imagination solely, building on the basis of the original lines in German. This was a grand and noble foundation, it is true; but the hymn by Coleridge was a perfect transfiguration of the piece, an inspiration of it with a higher soul, and an investiture of it with garments that shine like the sun. It was the greatest work of the poet’s great and powerful imagination, combined with the deep worshiping sense of spiritual things in his soul.

“On visiting the scene, one is apt to feel as if he could not have written it in the vale itself: the details of the picture would have been somewhat different; and, confined by the reality, one may doubt if even Coleridge’s genius could have gained that lofty ideal point of observation and conception, from which he drew the vast and glorious imagery that rose before him. Not because the poem is more glorious than the reality, for that is impossible; but because, in painting from the reality, the force and sublimity of his general conceptions would have been weakened by the attempt at faithfulness in the detail, and nothing like the impression of the aerial grandeur of the scene, its despotic unity in the imagination, notwithstanding its variety, would have been conveyed to the mind.

“Yet there are parts of it which at sunrise or sunset either, the poet might have written from the very windows of his bedroom, if he had been there in the dawn and evenings of days of such extraordinary brilliancy and glory, as marked and filled the atmosphere, during our sojourn in that blessed region. A glorious region it is, much nearer heaven than our common world, and carrying a sensitive, rightly constituted mind far up in spirit toward the gates of heaven, toward God, whose glory is the light of heaven, and of whose power and majesty the mountains, ice-fields and glaciers, whether beneath the sun, moon, or stars, are a dim, though grand and glittering, symbol. ‘Fire and hail, snow and vapor, stormy wind, fulfilling His word, mountains and all hills, fruitful trees and all cedars, praise the Lord. He looketh on the earth and it trembleth; He toucheth the hills, and they smoke.’

“The following is the original German hymn, in what the translator denominates a very bald English translation, to be compared as a curiosity with its glorification in Coleridge. It occupies but five stanzas of four lines, and is entitled, ‘Chamouny at Sunrise. To Klopstock.’ I have here put it into the metrical form of the original.

“Out of the deep shade of the silent fir-grove, Trembling I survey thee, mountain-head of eternity, Dazzling (blinding) summit, from whose vast hight My dimly perceiving spirit floats into the Everlasting.

“Who sank the pillar deep in the lap of earth Which, for past centuries, fast props thy mass up? Who uptowered, high in the vault of ether, Mighty and bold, thy beaming countenance?

“Who poured you from on high, out of eternal Winter’s realm, O jagged streams, downward with thunder-noise? And who bade aloud, with the Almighty Voice, ‘Here shall rest the stiffening billows?’

“Who marks out there the path for the Morning Star? Who wreathes with blossoms the skirt of eternal Frost? To whom, wild Arveiron, in terrible harmonies, Rolls up the sound of thy tumult of billows?

“Jehovah! Jehovah! crashes in the bursting ice! Avalanche-thunders roll it in the cleft downward: Jehovah! it rustles in the bright tree-tops; It whispers murmuring in the purling silver-brooks.

“This is very grand. Who but a mighty poet, one seeing with ‘the vision and the faculty divine’—what, but a transfusing, all-conquering imagination—would have dared the attempt to compose another poem on the same subject, or to carry this to a greater hight of sublimity, by melting it down anew, so to speak, and pouring it out into a vaster, more glorious mold? The more one thinks of it, the more he will see, in the poem so produced, a proof most remarkable, of the spontaneous, deep-seated, easily exerted, and almost exhaustless power and originality of Coleridge’s genius. Now let us peruse, ‘with mute thanks and secret ecstacy,’ his own solemn and stupendous lines.

HYMN BEFORE SUNRISE, IN THE VALE OF CHAMOUNY.

[Besides the rivers Arve and Arveiron, which have their sources in the foot of Mont Blanc, five conspicuous torrents rush down its sides; and, within a few paces of the glaciers, the Gentiana Major grows in immense numbers, with its ‘flowers of loveliest blue.’]

“Hast thou a charm to stay the Morning Star In his steep course? so long he seems to pause On thy bald, awful head, O Sovran Blanc? The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most awful form! Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently! Around thee and above, Deep is the air, and dark, substantial, black; An ebon mass: methinks thou piercest it As with a wedge! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from Eternity!

“O dread and silent Mount! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought: entranced in prayer I worshiped the Invisible alone.

“Yet, like some sweet, beguiling melody, So sweet, we know not we are listening to it, Thou, the meanwhile, wast blending with my thought, Yea, with my life, and life’s own secret joy, Till the dilating Soul, enrapt, transfused, Into the mighty vision passing,—there, As in her natural form, swelled vast to heaven!

“Awake my Soul! not only passive praise Thou owest! not alone these swelling tears, Mute thanks and secret ecstacy! Awake, Voice of sweet song! Awake, my heart, awake! Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my hymn.

“Thou first and chief, sole sovran of the vale Oh, struggling with the darkness all night long, And all night visited by troops of stars, Or when they climb the sky, or when they sink! Companion of the morning star at dawn, Thyself earth’s rosy star, and of the dawn Coherald: wake, oh wake, and utter praise! Who sank thy sunless pillars deep in earth? Who filled thy countenance with rosy light? Who made thee parent of perpetual streams?

“And you, ye five wild torrents, fiercely glad! Who called you forth from night and utter death, From dark and icy caverns called you forth, Down those precipitous, black, jagged rocks, Forever shattered, and the same forever? Who gave you your invulnerable life, Your strength, your speed, your fury and your joy, Unceasing thunder and eternal foam? And who commanded (and the silence came,) Here let the billows stiffen and have rest?

“Ye ice-falls! ye that from the mountain’s brow, Adown enormous ravines slope amain— Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once, amidst their maddest plunge! Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the gates of heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? GOD! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, GOD! GOD! sing, ye meadow-streams, with gladsome voice! Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds! And they, too, have a voice, yon piles of snow, And in their perilous fall shall thunder, GOD!

“Ye living flowers, that skirt the eternal frost! Ye wild goats sporting round the eagle’s nest! Ye eagles, playmates of the mountain-storm! Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds! Ye signs and wonders of the elements! Utter forth GOD! and fill the hills with praise!

“Thou, too, hoar Mount, with thy sky-pointing peaks, Oft from whose feet, the avalanche, unheard, Shoots downward, glittering through the pure serene Into the depths of clouds, that vail thy breast; Thou too again, stupendous mountain! thou, That as I raise my head, awhile bowed low In adoration, upward from thy base Slow traveling with dim eyes suffused with tears, Solemnly seemest, like a vapory cloud, To rise before me,—Rise, oh ever rise! Rise, like a cloud of incense, from the earth! Thou kingly spirit throned among the hills, Thou dread embassador from Earth to Heaven, Great Hierarch! tell thou the silent sky, And tell the stars, and tell yon rising sun, Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God!

“Thanks to thee, thou noble poet, for giving this glorious voice to Alpine nature, for so befitting and not unworthy an interpretation of Nature’s own voice, in words of our own mother-tongue. Thanks to God for his grace vouchsafed to thee, so that now thou praisest Him amidst the infinite host of flaming seraphs, before the mount supreme of glory, where all the empyrean rings with angelic hallelujahs! The creation of such a mind as Coleridge’s, is only outdone by its redemption through the blood of the Lamb. Oh, who can tell the rapture of a soul, that could give a voice for nations to such a mighty burst of praise to God in this world, when its powers, uplifted in eternity, and dilated with absorbing, unmingled, unutterable love, shall pour themselves forth in the anthem of redemption, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain!”

THE GLACIERS, OR ICE MASSES.

The three great glaciers, or ice-mountains, which descend from the flanks of Mont Blanc, add their ice to that of the Miage, and present a majestic spectacle, amid the astonishing succession of icy summits, of deep valleys, and of wide chasms, which have become channels for the innumerable torrents and cataracts with which these mountains abound. The view which the glacier of Talafre affords from its center, looking toward the north, is as extraordinary as beautiful. It rises gradually to the base of a semicircular girdle, formed of peaks of granite of a great hight, and terminating in sharp summits, extremely varied in their forms; while the intervals between these peaks are filled up by ice, which falls into this mass, and this mass of ice is crowned by masses of snow, rising in festoons between the black and vertical tables of granite, the steepness of which does not allow them to remain. A ridge of shattered wrecks divides this glacier lengthwise, and forms its most elevated part, being eight thousand, five hundred and thirty-eight feet, or upward of a mile and a half above the level of the sea. This prospect has nothing in common with what is seen in other parts of the world. The immense masses of ice, surrounded and surmounted by pyramidal rocks, still more enormous in magnitude; the contrast between the whiteness of the snow and the obscure colors of the stones, moistened by the water which trickles down their sides; the purity of the air; the dazzling light of the sun, which gives to these objects extraordinary brilliancy; the majestic and awful silence which reigns in these vast solitudes, a silence which is only interrupted at intervals by the noise of some great mass of granite, or of ice, tumbling from the top of the mountain; and the nakedness of these elevated rocks themselves, on which neither animals, shrubs, nor verdure are to be seen, combined with the recollection of the fertile country and rich vegetation which the adjacent valleys at so small a distance present; all tend to produce a mixed impression of admiration and terror, which tempts the spectator to believe, that he has been suddenly transported into a world forgotten by the great Author of nature. One of these glaciers, that of Triolet, is covered with the wrecks of another ice-mountain, which fell some years ago, and buried many huts, flocks, and shepherds beneath its ruins.

THE MER DE GLACE.

These glaciers have their foundation in the wonderful =Mer de Glace=, or =Sea of Ice=; shooting up from it their sharp peaks into the frozen air. “To get the best view of it as a whole,” says a modern Alpine tourist, “you cross the meadows in the vale of Chamouny, step over the furious Arve, and climb the mountain precipices to the hight of two thousand feet, by a rough, craggy path, sometimes winding amidst a wood of firs, and sometimes wandering over green grasses. At Montanvert you find yourself on the extremity of a plateau, so situated, that on one side you may look down into the dread frozen sea, and on the other, by a few steps, into the lovely green vale of Chamouny! What astonishing variety and contrast in the spectacle! Far beneath, a smiling and verdant valley, watered by the Arve, with hamlets, fields and gardens, the abode of life, sweet children and flowers; far above, savage and inaccessible crags of ice and granite, and a cataract of stiffened billows, stretching away beyond sight—the throne of death and winter.

“From the bosom of the tumbling sea of ice, huge granite needles shoot into the sky, objects of singular sublimity, one of them rising to the great hight of thirteen thousand feet, seven thousand above the point where you are standing. This is more than double the hight of Mount Washington in our country, and this amazing pinnacle of rock looks like the spire of an interminable colossal cathedral, with other pinnacles around it. No snow can cling to the summits of these jagged spires; the lightning does not splinter them; the tempests rave round them; and at their base, those eternal drifting ranges of snow are formed, that sweep down into the frozen sea, and feed the perpetual, immeasurable masses of the glacier. Meanwhile, the laughing verdure, sprinkled with flowers, plays upon the edges of the enormous masses of ice, so near, that you may almost touch the ice with one hand, and with the other pluck the violet. So, oftentimes, the ice and the verdure are mingled in our earthly pilgrimage; so, sometimes, in one and the same family, you may see the exquisite refinements and the coarse repugnancies of human nature. So, in the same house of God, on the same bench, may sit an angel and a murderer; a villain, like a glacier, and a man with a heart like a sweet running brook in the sunshine.

“The impetuous arrested cataract seems as if it were plowing the rocky gorge with its turbulent surges. Indeed, the ridges of rocky fragments along the edges of the glacier, called moraines, do look precisely as if a colossal iron plow had torn them from the mountain, and laid them along in one continuous furrow on the frozen verge. It is a scene of stupendous sublimity. These mighty granite peaks, hewn and pinnacled into Gothic towers, and these rugged mountain-walls and buttresses—what a cathedral! with this cloudless sky, by starlight, for its fretted roof; the chanting wail of the tempest, and the rushing of the avalanche for its organ. How grand the thundering sound of the vast masses of ice tumbling from the roof of the Arve-cavern at the foot of the glacier! Does it not seem, as it sullenly and heavily echoes, and rolls up from so immense a distance below, even more sublime than the thunder of the avalanche above us? We could tell better if we could have a genuine upper avalanche to compare with it. But what a stupendous scene! ‘I begin now,’ said my companion, ‘to understand the origin of the Gothic architecture.’ This was a very natural feeling; but, after all, it could not have been such a scene, that gave birth to the great idea of that ‘frozen poetry’ of the middle ages. Far more likely it was the sounding aisles of the dim woods, with their checkered green light, and festooned, pointing arches.

“The colossal furrows of rocks and gravel along the edges of the ice at the shores of the sea, are produced by the action of the frost and the avalanches, with the march of the glacier against the sides of the mountains. Nothing can be more singular than these ridges of mountain =debris=, apparently plowed up and worked off by the moving of the whole bed of ice down the valley. Near the shore, the sea is turbid with these rocks and gravel; but as you go out into the channel, the ice becomes clearer and more glittering, the crevices and fissures deeper and more dangerous, and all the phenomena more astonishing. Deep, blue, pellucid founts of ice-cold water lie in the opening gulfs; and sometimes, putting your ear to the yawning fissures, you may hear the rippling of the rills below, that from the bosom of the glacier are hurrying down to constitute the Arve, bursting furiously forth from the great ice-cavern in the valley.

“This Mer de Glace is an easy and excellent residence for the scientific study of the glaciers, a subject of very great interest, formerly filled with mysteries, which the bold and persevering investigations and theories of some modern naturalists have quite cleared up. The strange movements of the glaciers, their apparent willful rejection of extraneous bodies and substances to the surface and the margin, their increase and decrease, long remained invested with something of the supernatural: they seemed to have a soul and a life of their own. They look motionless and silent, yet they are always moving and sounding on, and they have great voices that give prophetic warning of the weather to the shepherds of the Alps. Scientific men have set up huts upon the sea, and landmarks on the mountains opposite, to test the progress of the icy masses, and in this way it was found that a cabin constructed by Professor Hugi on the glacier of the Aar, had traveled, between the years 1827 and 1840, a distance of forty-six hundred feet. It is supposed that the Mer de Glace moves down between four and five hundred feet annually.

“It is impossible to form a grander image of the rigidity and barrenness, the coldness and death of winter, than when you stand among the billows of one of these frozen seas; and yet it is here that Nature locks up in her careful bosom the treasures of the Alpine valleys, the sources of rich summer verdure and vegetable life. They are hoarded up in winter, to be poured forth beneath the sun, and with the sun in summer. Some of the largest rivers in Europe take their rise from the glaciers, and give to the Swiss valleys their most abundant supply of water, in the season when ordinary streams are dried up. This is a most interesting provision in the economy of nature, for if the glaciers did not exist, those verdant valleys into which the summer sun pours with such fervor, would be parched with drought. So the mountains are parents of perpetual streams, and the glaciers are reservoirs of plenty.

“The derivation of the German name for glacier, =gletscher=, is suggested as coming not from their icy material, but their perpetual motion, from =glitschen=, to glide; more probably, however, from the idea of gliding upon their surface. These glaciers come down from the air, down out of heaven, a perpetual frozen motion, ever changing and gliding, from the first fall of snow in the atmosphere, through the state of consolidated grinding blocks of ice, and then into musical streams that water the valleys. First it is a powdery, feathery snow, then granulated like hail, and denominated firn, forming vast beds and sheets around the highest mountain summits, then frozen into masses, by which time it has traveled down to within seven thousand feet above the level of the sea, where commences the great ice-ocean that fills the uninhabitable Alpine valleys, unceasingly freezing, melting and moving down. It has been estimated by Saussure and others, that these seas of ice, at their greatest thickness, are six or eight hundred feet deep. They are traversed by deep fissures, and as they approach the great precipices, over which they plunge like a cataract into the vales, they are split in all directions, and heaved up into waves, reefs, peaks, pinnacles and minarets. Underneath they are traversed by as many galleries and caverns, through which run the rills and torrents constantly gathering from the melting masses above. These innumerable streams, gathering in one as they approach the termination of the glacier, rush out from beneath it, under a great vault of ice, and thus are born into the breathing world, full-grown roaring rivers, from night, frost and chaos.

“A peasant has been known to have fallen into an ice-gulf in one of these seas, near one of the flowing sub-glacial torrents, and following the course of the stream to the foot of the glacier, he came out alive! The German naturalist, Hugi, set out to explore the recesses of one of the glaciers through the bed of a former torrent, and wandered on in its ice-caverns the distance of a mile. ‘The ice was everywhere eaten away into dome-shaped hollows, varying from two to twelve feet in hight, so that the whole mass of the glacier rested at intervals on pillars, or feet of ice, irregular in size and shape, which had been left standing. As soon as any of these props gave way, a portion of the glacier would of course fall in and move on. A dim twilight, scantily transmitted through the mass of ice above, prevailed in these caverns of ice, not sufficient to allow one to read, except close to the fissures, which directly admitted the daylight. The intense blue of the mass of the ice contrasted remarkably with the pure white of the icy stalactites, or pendents descending from the roof. The water streamed down upon him from all sides, so that, after wandering about for two hours, at times bending and creeping, to get along under the low vault, he returned to the open air, quite drenched and half-frozen.’

“This sea of ice, which embosoms in its farthest recesses a little living flower-garden, whither the humble-bees from Chamouny resort for honey, is also bordered by steep lonely beds of the fragrant rhododendron, or rose of the Alps. This hardy and beautiful flower grows from a bush larger than our sweet-fern, with foliage like the leaves of the ivory-plum. It continues blooming late in the season, and sometimes covers vast declivities on the mountains at a great hight, where one would hardly suppose it possible for a handful of earth to cling to the rocky surface. There, amid the snows and ice of a thousand winters, it pours forth its perfume on the air, though there be none to inhale the fragrance, or praise the sweetness, save only ‘the little busy bees,’ that seem dizzy with delight, as they throw themselves into the bosom of these beds of roses.

“Higher still on the opposite side of this great ice-sea, there are mountain-slopes of grass at the base of stupendous rocky pinnacles, whither the shepherds of the Alps drive their herds from Chamouny, for three months’ pasturage. They have no way of getting them there but across the dangerous glacier; and it is said that the passage is a sort of annual celebration, when men, women and children go up to Montanvert, to witness and assist the difficult transportation. When the herds have crossed, one peasant stays with them for the whole three months of their summer excursion, living upon bread and cheese, with one cow among the herd to supply him with milk. When he is not sleeping, he knits stockings, and ruminates as contentedly as the browsing cattle, his only care being to increase his store.”

VIEW FROM THE BUET.

Before we take our leave of Mont Blanc and of the Alps, the peculiarly brilliant view from the summit of the Buet ought to be noticed. Never, says M. Bourrit, did prospect appear so vast. Toward the west, the Rhone is seen, winding for the space of thirty-six leagues through the rich plains of the Valais; the parts of the river which the mountains cover with their shade seeming like threads of silver, and those which the sun illumines like threads of gold. Beyond the river and its rich plains, the view extends to the highest mountains of Switzerland, St. Gothard, and the Grisons, all covered with ice; while on the east, the hights sink suddenly, from some of the loftiest elevations on the globe, to level plains washed by the sea. Geneva seems like a spot at one end of the lake, and the lake itself like a sinuous band, dividing the fields which it waters. Beyond it are discovered the vast plains of Franche Comte and Burgundy, the mountains of which diminish by almost imperceptible gradations. Here the eye has neither power nor extent of sight to embrace the whole of the objects presented to its view. Amid the fearful aspect of the precipices which descend on every side, what a contrast between the country decorated with all that is smiling and gay, and the sublime spectacle of the Alps, their gloomy and aspiring summits, and, above all, the prodigious hight of Mont Blanc, that enormous colossus of snow and ice, which parts the clouds, and pierces to the very heavens! Below this mountain, which bids defiance to time, and whose eternal ice disregards the dissolving power of the sun, a band of pyramidical rocks appear, the intervals between them being so many valleys of ice, the immensity of which appalls the imagination. Their deep chasms may be distinguished, and the noise of the frequent avalanches (falls of immense masses of snow) presents to the mind the gloomy ideas of horror, devastation and ruin. Farther on, other summits of ice prolong this majestic picture. Among these are the high mountains of the St. Bernard, and those which border on the Boromean islands.

Perhaps there is not in the old world a theater more instructive, or more adapted for reflection, than the summit of this mountain. Where, beside, can be seen such variety and contrast of forms; such results of the efforts of time; such effects of all the climates, and of all the seasons? At one glance may be embraced frosts equally intense with those of Lapland, and the rich and delightful frontiers of Italy; eternal ice, and waving harvests; all the chilling horrors of winter, and the luxuriant vegetation of summer; eighty leagues of fertile plains, covered with towns, with vineyards, with fields and herds, and adjoining to these, a depth of twenty thousand feet of everlasting ice.

MONTSERRAT.

“Here, ’midst the changeful scenery, ever new, Fancy a thousand wond’rous forms descries, More wildly great than ever pencil drew; Rocks, torrents, gulfs, and shapes of giant size, And glittering cliffs on cliffs, and fiery ramparts rise.”—BEATTIE.

This Spanish mountain, which has been so long celebrated on account of the singularity of its shape, but chiefly for its convent and its numerous hermitages, is nine leagues north-west of Barcelona, in the province of Catalonia. It is in hight only three thousand, three hundred feet above the level of the sea, but it commands an enchanting prospect of the fine plain of Barcelona, extending to the sea, as well as of the islands of Majorca and Minorca, distant one hundred and fifty miles.

Toward Barcelona this mountain presents a bold and rugged front; but on the west, toward Vacarisas, it is almost perpendicular, notwithstanding which, a carriage-road winds round to the convent, which is placed in a sheltered recess among the rocks, at about half the hight of the mountain. The Llobregat roars at the bottom; and the rock presents perpendicular walls from the edge of the water: but above the convent, the mountain divides into two crowns or cones, which form the most prominent features; while smaller pinnacles, blanched and bare, and split into pillars, pipes, and other singular shapes, give a most picturesque effect. Here are seen fourteen or fifteen hermitages, which are scattered over different points of the mountain, some of them on the very pinnacles of the cones, to which they seem to grow, while others are placed in cavities hewn out of the loftiest pyramids. The highest accessible part of the mountain is above the hermitage of St. Maddelena, the descent from which is between two cones, by a flight of steps, called Jacob’s ladder, leading into a valley which runs along the summit of the mountain. The cones are here in the most grotesque shapes, the southern one being named the Organ, from its resemblance to a number of pipes.

At the extremity of this valley, which is a perfect shrubbery, and on an eminence, stands the hermitage of St. Jerome, the highest and most remote of all; and near it is the loftiest station of the whole mountain, on which is a little chapel dedicated to the Virgin. From this elevated pinnacle the prospect is vast and splendid.

Although the elements have wreaked all their fury on these shattered peaks, yet Nature has not been sparing in her gifts; the spaces between the rocks being filled up with close woods, while numerous evergreens, and other plants, serve to adorn the various chasms, rendering them valuable depositories of the vegetable kingdom. Few, indeed, are the evergreens of Europe which may not be found here; and when the mountain was visited by Mr. Swinburne, the apothecary of the convent had a list of four hundred and thirty-seven species of plants, and forty of trees, which shoot up spontaneously, and grace this hoary and venerable pile. There being two springs only on the mountain, there is a scarcity of water, which is chiefly collected in cisterns; an inconvenience, however, which is in a great measure counterbalanced by the absence of wolves, bears, and other wild beasts.

Captain Carlton, an Englishman, who visited Montserrat some years ago, ascended to the loftiest hermitage, that of St. Jerome, by the means of spiral steps hewn out in the rock on account of the steep acclivity. This, he observes, could not, in his time, be well accomplished by a stranger, without following the footsteps of an old ass, who carried from the convent a daily supply of food to the hermits. This animal having his two panniers stored with the provisions divided into portions, climbed without a guide, and having stopped at each of the cells, where the hermit took the portion allotted to him, returned back to the convent. He found that one of these hermits, to beguile the wearisomeness of his solitude, had contrived so effectually to tame the birds which frequented the groves surrounding his hermitage, that he could draw them together with a whistle, when they perched on his head, breast, and shoulders, taking the food from his mouth.

The convent is situated on the eastern side of the mountain, which seems to have been split by vast torrents of water, or by some violent convulsion of nature: in this way a platform has been formed in the cleft, sufficiently ample for the purpose of its construction. It is one of the forty-five religious houses of the Spanish congregation of the order of St. Benedict. The monks are bound to supply food and lodging for three days to all pilgrims who come up to pay their homage to the Virgin; besides which, they entertain the hermits on Sundays. The latter, who make a vow never to quit the mountain, take their stations by seniority, the junior hermit being placed at the greatest distance from the convent, and descending progressively as the vacancies happen. They are not altogether idle, taking pains to rival each other in making basket-work and other fanciful productions, which they display with great affability to their visitors. They assemble every morning to hear mass and perform divine service, in the parish church of St. Cecilia, which lies considerably above the convent; and twice a week they confess and communicate. They wear their beards long, and are clad in brown.

The church of St. Cecilia is a gloomy edifice, the gilding of which is much sullied by the smoke of eighty-five silver lamps, of various forms and sizes, suspended round the cornice of the sanctuary. For the supply of these with oil, funds have been bequeathed by devotees. The choir is decorated with wood carvings, curiously wrought, representing the most prominent passages in the life of Christ.

THE PEAK OF TENERIFFE.

[See cut below.]

The island of Teneriffe has received its present name from the inhabitants of the adjacent island Palma, in whose language =tener= signifies snow, and iffe, a hill. In extent, wealth, and fertility it exceeds all the other Canary islands. It continues to rise on all sides from the sea, until it terminates in the celebrated peak represented in the cut, which is, however, situated rather in the southern part than in the center of the island. The ascent on the north side is more gradual than at the other parts, there being a space along the shore about three leagues in breadth, bounded on the sides by high mountains, or rather cliffs; but more inland it rises like a hanging garden all the way, without any considerable interruption of hills or valleys. The form of this island is triangular, extending itself into three capes, the nearest of which is about eighty leagues from the coast of Africa. In the middle it is divided by a ridge of mountains, which have been compared to the roof of a church, the peak forming the spire or steeple in the center.

The elevation of the peak of Teneriffe, according to the most accurate measurement, made by Cordier, is twelve thousand, one hundred and sixty-six feet, or nearly two miles and one-third above the level of the sea. In the ascent, the first eminence is called Monte Verde, or the green mountain, from the high fern with which it is covered, and presents a level plain of considerable extent. Beyond this is the mountain of pines, which are said to have formerly grown there in great abundance; but its steep sides are now craggy and barren, and its whole appearance very different from that of the eminence described above. After passing this summit, the traveler reaches a plain, on which the natives have bestowed the name of Mouton de Trigo, and upon which the peak in reality stands. It is a mountainous platform, rising more than seven thousand feet, or nearly a mile and a half, above the level of the sea; and here the currents of lava, hitherto concealed by the vegetation, begin to appear in all their aridity and confusion, a few lowly shrubs and creeping plants alone diversifying the surface of a desert, the most arid and rugged that can be imagined.

A small sandy platform of pumice-stones, bordered by two enormous currents of vitreous lava, and blocks of the same nature, ranged in a semicircle, forms what is called the station of the English, on account of the peak having been so often visited by British travelers. This platform is ninety-seven hundred and eighty-six feet, or upward of a mile and three-quarters above the level of the sea; and beyond it the acclivity is very steep, great masses of scoriæ, extremely rough and sharp, covering the currents of lava. Toward the summit, nothing but pumice-stone is to be seen. In fact the peak can only be ascended on the east and south-east sides. As it is impossible to get round the crater, the traveler’s progress is arrested at the spot at which he reaches it. Here the two orders of volcanic substances are to be seen, the modern lavas being thrown up amid the ruins of ejections much more ancient, the immense masses of which constitute the platform on which the peak is placed. The shattered sides present a series of thick beds, almost all plunging toward the sea, composed alternately of ashes, volcanic sand, pumice-stones, lavas, either compact or porous, and scoriæ.

An incalculable number of currents, comparatively recent, which have descended from the peak, or have issued from its flanks, form irregular furrows, which run along the more ancient masses, and lose themselves in the sea to the west and north. Among these currents more than eighty craters are scattered, and augment with their ruins the confusion which prevails throughout.

The crater can alone be reached by descending down three chasms. Its sides are absolutely precipitous within, and are most elevated toward the north. Its form is elliptical; its circumference about twelve hundred feet; and its depth according to Cordier, one hundred and ten feet. Humboldt, however, estimates it at not more than from forty to sixty feet. The sides are, agreeably to the former of these observers, formed of an earth of snowy whiteness, resulting from the decomposition of the blackest and hardest vitreous porphyritic lava. All the rest is solid, and the lowest part occupied by blocks, which have fallen down from the sides. These solid parts are covered with shining crystals of sulphur, of a rhomboidal and octahedral figure, some of which are nearly an inch high, and are, perhaps, the finest specimens of native volcanic sulphur yet known. Vapors issue in abundance from among these blocks, and from an infinity of fissures which preserve a very intense heat. These vapors consist solely of sulphur and water, perfectly insipid. Beside the incrustations of sulphur, opal, in thin plates, is formed with great celerity. Humboldt regards the peak of Teneriffe as an enormous basaltic mountain, resting upon a dense secondary calcareous stone.

Various travelers have asserted, that the cold is intensely keen on the summit of the peak; that respiration is difficult; and that, particularly, spirituous liquors lose all their strength; which latter circumstance they ascribe to the spirit being more or less exposed to the sulphureous fumes exhaled from the crater. Cordier, and several other accurate observers, declare, however, that neither the smell nor the strength of liquids appeared, at this elevation, to be in the least degree impaired; and that volatile alkali, ether, and spirit of wine, possessed their usual pungency. They add, that the cold is very supportable; and that neither the aqueous sulphureous vapors, nor the rarity of the air, render breathing difficult.

We extract the following interesting particulars from Humboldt’s account of his visit to Teneriffe.

“Toward three in the morning, by the sombrous light of a few fir torches, we began our expedition for the summit of the Piton. We scaled the volcano on the north-east, where the declivities are extremely steep; and came, after two hours’ toil, to a small plain, which on account of its isolated situation, bears the name of Alta Vista. It is the station also of the Neveros, those natives whose occupation it is to collect ice and snow, which they sell in the neighboring towns. Their mules, better practiced in climbing mountains than those hired by travelers, reach Alta Vista, and the Neveros are obliged to transport the snow to this place on their backs. Above this point the Malpays begins; a term by which is designated here, as well as in Mexico, Peru, and every other country subject to volcanoes, a ground destitute of vegetable mold, and covered with fragments of lavas.

“We observed, during the twilight, a phenomenon which is not unusual on high mountains, but which the position of the volcano we were scaling rendered very striking. A layer of white and fleecy clouds concealed from us the sight of the ocean, and the lower region of the island. This layer did not appear above sixteen hundred yards high; the clouds were so uniformly spread, and kept so perfect a level, that they wore the appearance of a vast plain covered with snow. The colossal pyramid of the peak, the volcanic summits of Lanzerota, of Fortaventura, and the isle of Palma, were like rocks amidst this vast sea of vapors, and their black tints were in fine contrast with the whiteness of the clouds.”

By an astronomical observation, made at the above elevation at sunrise, it was ascertained that the true horizon, that is, a part of the sea, was distant one hundred and thirty miles. Our traveler proceeds thus:

“We had yet to scale the steepest part of the mountain, the Piton, which forms the summit. The slope of this small cone, covered with volcanic ashes, and fragments of pumice-stone, is so steep, that it would have been almost impossible to reach the top, had we not ascended by an old current of lava, the wrecks of which have resisted the ravages of time. These wrecks form a wall of scorious rocks, which stretches itself into the midst of the loose ashes. We ascended the Piton by grasping these half-decomposed scoriæ, the sharp edges of which remained often in our hands. We employed nearly half an hour to scale a hill, the perpendicular hight of which does not exceed five hundred feet.

“When we gained the summit of the Piton, we were surprised to find scarcely room enough to seat ourselves conveniently. The west wind blew with such violence that we could scarcely stand. It was eight in the morning, and we were frozen with cold, though the thermometer kept a little above the freezing point.

“The wall, which surrounds the crater like a parapet, is so high, that it would be impossible to reach the Caldera, if on the eastern side there was not a breach, which seems to have been the effect of a flowing of very old lava. We descended through this breach toward the bottom of the tunnel, the figure of which is elliptical. The greatest breadth of the mouth appeared to us to be three hundred feet, the smallest two hundred feet.

“We descended to the bottom of the crater on a train of broken lava, from the eastern breach of the inclosure. The heat was perceptible only in a few crevices, which gave vent to aqueous vapors, with a peculiar buzzing noise. Some of these funnels or Crevices are on the outside of the inclosure, on the external brink of the parapet that surrounds the crater. We plunged the thermometer into them, and saw it rise rapidly to sixty-eight and seventy-five degrees.

“We prolonged in vain our stay on the summit of the peak, to wait the moment when we might enjoy the view of the whole of the archipelago of the Fortunate islands. We discovered Palma, Gomera, and the Great Canary, at our feet. The mountains of Lanzerota, free from vapors at sunrise, were soon enveloped in thick clouds. On a supposition only of an ordinary refraction, the eye takes in, in calm weather, from the summit of the volcano, a surface of the globe of fifty-seven hundred square leagues, equal to a fourth of the surface of Spain.

“Notwithstanding the heat we felt in our feet on the edge of the crater, the cone of ashes remains covered with snow during several months in the winter. It is probable, that under the cap of snow considerable hollows are found, like those we find under the glaciers of Switzerland, the temperature of which is constantly less elevated than that of the soil on which they repose. The cold and violent wind which blew from the time of sunrise, engaged us to seek shelter at the foot of the Piton. Our hands and faces were frozen, while our boots were burnt by the soil on which we walked. We descended in the space of a few minutes the sugar-loaf, which we had scaled with so much toil; and this rapidity was in part involuntary, for we often rolled down on the ashes. It was with regret that we quitted this solitary place, this domain where Nature towers in all her majesty.”

To the above we subjoin the following extract from the account published in the first volume of the Transactions of the Geological Society, by the Hon. Mr. Bennet.

At the distance of thirty-four leagues from the island, Mr. Bennet had a very distinct view of the peak, rising like a cone from the bed of the ocean. The rocks and strata of Teneriffe, he observes, are wholly volcanic, the long chain of mountains, which may be termed the central chain, traversing the island from the foot of the second region of the peak, and sloping down on the eastern, western and northern sides, to the sea. Toward the south, or more properly the south-south-west, the mountains are nearly perpendicular, and though broken into ridges, and occasionally separated by deep ravines, that are cut transversely as well as longitudinally, there are none of those plains, nor that gradual declination of strata, which the south-eastern and north-western sides of the island exhibit.

Mr. Bennet ascended the peak in the month of September, 1810. We give the abridged details of this expedition in his own words.

“The road to the city of Orotava, is a gradual and easy slope for three or four miles, through a highly cultivated country. Leaving the town, after a steep ascent of about an hour, through a deep ravine, we quitted the cultivated part, and entered into forests of chestnuts, the trees of which are of a large size. The form of this forest is oblong; the soil is deep, and formed of decomposed lava, small ash and pumice. I examined several channels in the strata, or ravines worn by the rains, and there was no appearance of any other rock. Leaving this forest, the track passes over a series of green hills, which we traversed in about two hours, and at last halted to water our mules at a spot where there is a small spring of bad and brackish water issuing from a lava rock. The ravine is of considerable depth. The range of green hills extends a mile or two further, the soil shallowing by degrees, until at length the trees and shrubs gradually dwindling in size, the Spanish broom alone covers the ground. Leaving behind us this range of green hills, the track, still ascending, leads for several hours across a steep and difficult mass of lava-rock, broken here and there into strange and fantastic forms, worn into deep ravines, and scantly covered in places by a thin layer of yellow pumice. As we proceeded on our road, the hills on our left gradually rose in hight, till the summits were lost in those of the central chain; while, on our right, we were rapidly gaining an elevation above the lower range of the peak. We met with several small conical hills, or mouths of extinct volcanoes, the decomposed lava on the edges of the craters having a strong red ochreous tint. At length, an immense undulated plain spreads itself like a fan, on all sides, nearly as far as the eye can reach. This plain is bounded on the west-south-west and south-south-west, by the regions of the peak; and on the east and north-east, by a range of steep perpendicular precipices and mountains, many leagues in circumference, called by the Spaniards =Las Faldas=. On this plain, or desert, for we had long left all show of vegetation, except a few stunted plants of Spanish broom, a sensible change was felt in the atmosphere; the wind was keen and sharp, and the climate like that of England in the months of autumn. All here was sad, silent and solitary. We saw at a distance the fertile plains on the coast, lying as it were under our feet, and affording a cheerful contrast to the scenes of desolation with which we were surrounded. We were already seven or eight thousand feet above the level of the sea, and had reached the bottom of the second region of the peak.

“Having reached the end of the plain, we found ourselves at the bottom of a steep hill, at the foot of which is a mass or current of lava. After a laborious, not to say hazardous ascent of about an hour, the pumice and ash gave way, and the mules sinking knee-deep at every step, we arrived at about five in the afternoon at the other extremity of the stream of lava, which, descending from the summit of the second region of the peak, divides at the foot of the cone into two branches, the one running to the north-east, and the other to the north-west. It was here we were to pass the night; so, lighting a fire made of dry branches of the Spanish broom, and stretching a part of a sail over a portion of the rock, we ate our dinner and laid ourselves down to sleep. I, however, passed the best part of the night by the fire, the weather being piercingly cold. As I stood by the fire, the view all around me was wild and terrific; the moon rose about ten at night, and, though in her third quarter, gave sufficient light to show the waste and wilderness by which we were surrounded. The peak and the upper regions which we had yet to ascend, towered awfully above our heads, while below, the mountains that had appeared of such a hight in the morning, and had cost us a day’s labor to climb, lay stretched as plains at our feet. From the uncommon rarity of the atmosphere, the whole vault of heaven appeared studded with innumerable stars, while the valleys of Orotava were hidden from our view by a thin vail of light fleecy clouds, that floated far beneath the elevated spot we had chosen for our resting-place; the solemn stillness of the night was only interrupted by the crackling of the fire round which we stood, and by the whistling of the wind, which coming in hollow gusts from the mountain, resembled the roar of distant cannon.

“Between two and three in the morning, we resumed, on foot, our ascent of the mountain, the lower part of which we had climbed on horseback the preceding evening; the ascent, however, became much more rapid and difficult, our feet sinking deep in the ashes at every step. From the uncommon sharpness of the acclivity, we were obliged to stop often to take breath: after several halts, we at last reached the head of the pumice hill. After resting some short time here, we began to climb the stream of lava, stepping from mass to mass. The ascent is steep, painful and hazardous; in some places the stream of lava is heaped up in dykes or embankments; and we were obliged to clamber over them as one ascends a steep wall.

“We halted several times during the ascent, and at last reached a spot called La Cueva, one of the numerous caves that are found on the sides of the mountain; this is the largest of them, and is filled with snow and the most delicious water, which was just at the point of congelation. The descent into it is difficult, it being thirty or forty feet deep. One of our party let himself down by a rope: he could not see the extent of the cave, but the guides declared it to be three hundred feet in length, and to contain thirty or forty feet of water in depth. The roof and sides are composed of a fine stalactitic lava, similar to that found on Vesuvius, and it is of the same nature as that which flowed on the surface. We rested here about half an hour, during which we had an opportunity of observing the rising of the sun, and that singular and rapid change of night into day, which is the consequence of an almost entire absence of twilight. As we ascended the north-east side of the mountain, this view was strikingly beautiful: at first there appeared a bright streak of red on the horizon, which gradually spread itself, lighting up the heavens by degrees, and growing brighter and brighter, till at last the sun burst forth from the bed of the ocean, gilding as it rose the mountains of Teneriffe, and those of the Great Canary; in a short time the whole country to the eastward lay spread out as a map. The Great Canary was easily to be distinguished; and its rugged and mountainous character, similar to that of the other islands, became visible to the naked eye. The cold at this time was intense, the wind keen and strong, and the thermometer sunk to thirty-two degrees. After a short though rapid ascent, we reached the summit of the second stage of the mountain, passing over a small plain of white pumice, on which were spread masses of lava, and at length arrived at the foot of the cone. This division of the mountain forms what is generally termed the peak of Teneriffe: it represents the present crater of Vesuvius, with this difference, however, that while the surface of that mountain is composed of a black cinder or ash, the superfices of this appear to be a deposit of pumice of a white color, of scoriæ and lava, with here and there considerable masses that were probably thrown out when the volcano was in action. Numerous small cavities on the side of the mountain emitted vapor, with considerable heat. Here begins the only fatiguing part of the ascent; the steepness of the cone is excessive; at each step our feet sunk into the ash, and large masses of pumice and lava rolled down from above; we were all bruised, and our feet and legs were cut, but not materially hurt: at last we surmounted all difficulties, and seated ourselves on the highest ridge of the mountain. This uppermost region does not appear to contain in superficies more than an acre and a half, and is itself a small crater, the walls of which are the different points on which we sat, and are plainly visible from below. Within, the lava is in the most rapid state of decomposition. The surface is hot to the feet, and the guides said it was dangerous to remain long in one spot: as it was, some of us sunk to our knees in the hot deposit of sulphur. Upon striking the ground with the feet, the sound is hollow, similar to what is produced by the same impulsion on the craters of Vesuvius and Solfaterra. I estimate the depth of the crater to be, from the highest ridge to the bottom, about two hundred feet, forming an easy and gradual descent.

“The view from the summit is stupendous: we could plainly discover the whole form of the island, and we made out distinctly three or four of the islands, which, collectively, are called the Canaries; we could not, however, see Lancerotte or Fuerteventura, though we were told that other travelers had distinguished them all.

“From this spot, the central chain of mountains that run from south-west to north-east, is easily to be distinguished. These, with the succession of fertile and woody valleys, commencing from San Ursula, and ending at Las Horcas, with the long line of precipitous lava rocks that lay on the right of our ascent, and which traverse that part of the island running from east to west, from their point of departure at the Canales, to where they end in an abrupt headland on the coast, with their forests, and villages, and vineyards, the port with the shipping in the roads, the town of Orotava, with its spires glittering as the morning sun burst upon them, afford a cheerful contrast to the streams of lava, the mounds of ash and pumice, and the sulphurated rock on which we had taken our seat. The sensation of extreme hight was in fact one of the most extraordinary I ever felt; and though I did not find the pain in my chest arising from the rarity of the atmosphere, by any means so acute as on the mountains of Switzerland, yet there was a keenness in the air, independent of the cold, that created no small uneasiness in the lungs. The respiration became short and quick, and repeated halts were found necessary. The idea also of extreme hight was to me more determinate and precise than on the mountains of Switzerland; and though the immediate objects of vision were not so numerous, yet as the ascent is more rapid, the declivity sharper, and there is here no mountain like Mont Blanc towering above you, the twelve thousand feet above the level of the sea appeared considerably more than a similar elevation above the lake of Geneva. We remained at the summit about three-quarters of an hour, our ascent having cost us the labor of four hours, as we left La Estancia at ten minutes before three, and reached the top of the peak before seven. Our thermometer, which was graduated to the scale of Fahrenheit, was, during our ascent, as follows: at Orotava, at eight in the morning, seventy-four degrees; at six in the evening, at La Estancia, fifty degrees; at one, in the following morning, forty-two degrees; at La Cueva, at half past four, thirty-two degrees; at the bottom of the cone, thirty-six degrees; at the top of the peak, one hour and a half after sunrise, thirty-three degrees. The descent down the cone is difficult, from its extreme rapidity, and from the fall of large stones, which loosen themselves from the beds of pumice. Having at last scrambled to the bottom, we pursued our march down the other course of the lava, that is to say, down its westerly side, having ascended its eastern. The ravines and rents in this stream of lava are deep and formidable; the descent into them is always painful and troublesome, often dangerous: in some places we let ourselves down from rock to rock. I can form no opinion why there should be these strange irregularities in the surface of this lava; in places it resembles what sailors term the trough of the sea, and I can compare it to nothing but as if the sea in a storm, had by some force become on a sudden stationary, the waves retaining their swell. As we again approached La Cueva, we came to a singular steep valley, the depth of which, from its two sides, can not be less than one hundred to one hundred and fifty feet, the lava lying in broken ridges one upon the other, similar to the masses of granite rock that time and decay have tumbled down from the top of the Alps; and, except from the scoriæ, or what Milton calls ‘the fiery surge,’ they in no degree bear the marks of having rolled as a stream of liquid matter.

“We descended the pumice hill with great rapidity, almost at a run, and arrived at La Estancia in little more than two hours. We then mounted our mules, and following the track by which we had ascended the preceding day, we reached, about four o’clock, the country-house from which we had started.”

The first eruption of which there is any distinct account, occurred on the twenty-fourth of December, 1704, when twenty-nine shocks of an earthquake were distinctly felt. On the thirty-first a great light was observed on Manja, toward the White mountains. Here the earth opened, and two volcanoes were formed, which threw up such heaps of stones as to raise two considerable mountains: the combustible matter, which still continued to be thrown up, kindled above fifty fires in the vicinity. The whole country for three leagues round was in flames, which were increased by another volcano opening by at least thirty different vents within the circumference of half a mile. On the second of February following, another volcano broke out in the town of Guimar, swallowing up a large church.

A subsequent eruption in 1706 filled up the port of Guarachico. The lava, in its descent, ran five leagues in six hours; and on this lava, houses are now built where ships formerly rode at anchor. Neither of these eruptions was from the crater on the summit of the peak, for that has not ejected lava for centuries, and it now issues from the flanks only. The last eruption was on the ninth of June, 1798, and was very terrible. Three new mouths opened at the hight of eighty-one hundred and thirty feet, or upward of a mile and a half above the level of the sea, upon the inclined slope of the base of the peak toward the south-west. Above this, at the hight of ten thousand, two hundred and forty feet, or nearly two miles, M. Cordier found a vast crater nearly four miles and a half in circumference, which lie ascertained to be very ancient. Its sides are extremely steep, and it still presents the most frightful picture of the violence of subterraneous fire. The peak rises from the sides of this monstrous aperture. To the south-west is the mountain of Cahora, which is said to have become a volcano in 1797. The other mountains of Teneriffe, which tradition reports to have been formerly volcanoes, are Monte Roxo, or the red mountain; several mountains, called the Malpasses, lying to the eastward; and one (Rejada) in a southern direction. Throughout the whole of the distance between Monte Roxo and the bay of Adexe, according to Mr. Glass, the shore is about twenty-five hundred feet, or nearly half a mile in hight, and perpendicular as a wall. The southern coast has a much superior elevation, the chain of mountains by which it is bounded being, agreeably to St. Vincent, eighty-three hundred and twenty feet, or more than a mile and a half, above the level of the sea.

THE SOUFFRIERE MOUNTAIN.

This volcanic mountain, the dreadful eruption of which we are about to describe, is the most elevated and most northerly of the lofty chain running through the West India island of St. Vincent. From the extraordinary frequency and violence of the earthquakes, which in 1811, are calculated to have exceeded two hundred, some great movement or eruption was looked for. In the interim the mountain indicated much disquietude; but the apprehension was not so immediate as to restrain curiosity, or to prevent repeated visits to the crater, which had latterly been more numerous than ever. Even on the twenty-sixth of April, 1812, the day preceding the eruption, several gentlemen ascended and remained there for some time. Nothing unusual was then remarked, nor any external difference observed, except rather a stronger emission of smoke from the interstices of the conical hill, at the bottom of the crater. To those who have not visited this romantic and wonderful spot, a slight description of it, as it lately stood, is previously necessary.

“About two thousand feet from the level of the sea, on the south side of the mountain, and at rather more than two-thirds of its hight, opens a circular chasm, somewhat exceeding half a mile in diameter, and between four hundred and five hundred feet in depth. Exactly in the center of this capacious bowl, rose a conical hill about two hundred and sixty or three hundred feet in hight, and about two hundred in diameter, richly covered and variegated with shrubs, brushwood and vines, above half-way up, and the remainder covered over with virgin sulphur to the top. From the fissures of the cone and interstices of the rocks, a thin white smoke was constantly emitted, occasionally tinged with a slight bluish flame. The precipitous sides of this magnificent amphitheater were fringed with various evergreens and aromatic shrubs, flowers, and many alpine plants. On the north and south sides of the base of the cone were two pieces of water, one perfectly pure and tasteless, the other strongly impregnated with sulphur and alum. This lonely and beautiful spot was rendered more enchanting by the singularly melodious notes of a bird, an inhabitant of these upper solitudes, and altogether unknown to the other parts of the island, hence principally called or supposed to be invisible, though it certainly has been seen, and is a species of blackbird.

“A century had now elapsed since the last convulsion of the mountain, or since any other elements had disturbed the serenity of this wilderness, besides those which are common to the tropical tempest. It apparently slumbered in primeval solitude and tranquillity, and from the luxuriant vegetation and growth of the forest, which covered its side from the base nearly to the summit, seemed to discountenance the fact, and falsify the records of the ancient volcano. Such was the majestic, peaceful Souffriere, on April the twenty-seventh; but our imaginary safety was soon to be confounded by the sudden danger of devastation. Just as the plantation bell rang at noon on that day, an abrupt and dreadful crash from the mountain, with a severe concussion of the earth, and tremulous noise in the air, alarmed all around it. The resurrection of this fiery furnace was proclaimed in a moment by a vast column of thick, black, ropy smoke, like that of an immense glass-house, bursting forth at once, and mounting to the sky; showering down sand, gritty calcined particles of earth and ashes mixed, on all below. This, driven before the wind toward Wallibou and Morne Ronde, darkened the air like a cataract of rain, and covered the ridges, woods and cane-pieces with light gray-colored ashes, resembling snow when slightly covered by dust. As the eruption increased, this continual shower expanded, destroying every appearance of vegetation. At night a very considerable degree of ignition was observed on the lips of the crater; but it is not asserted that there was as yet any visible ascension of flame. The same awful scene presented itself on the following day; the fall of ashes and calcined pebbles still increasing, and the compact, pitchy column from the crater rising perpendicularly to an immense hight, with a noise at intervals like the muttering of distant thunder.

“On Wednesday, the twenty-ninth, all these menacing symptoms of horror and combustion still gathered more thick and terrific for miles around the dismal and half-obscured mountain. The prodigious column shot up with quicker motion, dilating as it rose like a balloon. The sun appeared in total eclipse, and shed a meridian of twilight over us, that aggravated the wintry gloom of the scene, now completely powdered over with falling particles. It was evident that the crisis was yet to come, that the burning fluid was struggling for a vent, and laboring to throw off the superincumbent strata and obstructions, which suppressed its torrent. At night, it was manifest that it had greatly disengaged itself from its burden, by the appearance of fire flashing above the mouth of the crater.

“On the memorable thirtieth of April, the reflection of the rising sun on this majestic body of curling vapor was sublime beyond imagination: any comparison of the Glaciers, or of the Andes, can but feebly convey an idea of the fleecy whiteness and brilliancy of this awful column of intermingled and wreathed smoke and clouds. It afterward assumed a more sulphureous cast, like what are called thunder-clouds, and in the course of the day had a ferruginous and sanguine appearance, with a much livelier action in the ascent, and a more extensive dilatation, as if almost freed from every obstruction. In the afternoon, the noise was incessant, and resembled the approach of thunder still nearer and nearer, with a vibration that affected the feelings and hearing: as yet there was no convulsive motion, or sensible earthquake. The Charaibs settled at Morne Ronde, at the foot of the Souffriere, abandoned their houses, with their live stock, and everything they possessed, and fled precipitately toward town. The negroes became confused, forsook their work, looked up to the mountain, and, as it shook, trembled, with the dread of what they could neither understand or describe: the birds fell to the ground, overpowered with showers of ashes, unable to keep themselves on the wing; the cattle were starving for want of food, as not a blade of grass or a leaf was now to be found; the sea was much discolored, but not uncommonly agitated; and it is remarkable, that throughout the whole of this violent disturbance of the earth, it continued quite passive, and did not at any time sympathize with the agitation of the land. About four o’clock in the afternoon, the noise became more alarming, and just before sunset the clouds reflected a bright copper color, suffused with fire. Scarcely had the day closed, when the flames burst at length pyramidically from the crater, through the mass of smoke; the rolling of the thunder became more awful and deafening; electric flashes quickly succeeded, attended with loud claps; and now, indeed, the tumult began. Those only who have witnessed such a sight, can form any idea of the magnificence and variety of the lightning and electric flashes; some forked and zigzag, playing across the perpendicular column from the crater; others shooting upward from the mouth like rockets of the most dazzling luster; others like shells, with their trailing fuses, flying in different parabolas, with the most vivid scintillations, from the dark sanguine column, which now seemed inflexible, and immovable by the wind. Shortly after seven in the afternoon, the mighty caldron was seen to simmer, and the ebullition of lava to break out on the north-west side. This, immediately after boiling over the orifice, and flowing a short way, was opposed by the acclivity of a higher point of land, over which it was impelled by the immense tide of liquefied fire which drove it on, forming the figure V in grand illumination. Sometimes, when the ebullition slackened, or was insufficient to urge it over the obstructing hill, it recoiled like a refluent billow, from the rock, and then again rushed forward, impelled by fresh supplies, and, surmounting every obstacle, carried rocks and woods together, in its course down the slope of the mountain, until it precipitated itself down some vast ravine, concealed from our sight by the intervening ridges of Morne Ronde. Vast globular bodies of fire were seen projected from the fiery furnace, and, bursting, fell back into it, or over it upon the surrounding bushes, which were instantly set in flames. About four hours from the time of the lava’s boiling over the crater, it reached the sea, as we could observe from the reflection of the fire and electric flashes attending it. About half past one, the following morning, another stream of lava was seen descending to the eastward toward Rabacca. The thundering noise of the mountain, and the vibration of sound that had been so formidable hitherto, now mingled in the sudden monotonous roar of the rolling lava, became so terrible, that dismay was almost turned into despair. At this time the first earthquake was felt; this was followed by showers of cinders, which fell with the hissing noise of hail, during two hours.

“At three o’clock, a rolling on the roofs of the houses indicated a fall of stones, which soon thickened, and at length descended in a rain of intermingled fire, which threatened at once the fate of Pompeii or Herculaneum. The crackling coruscations from the crater at this period exceeded all that had yet passed. The eyes were struck with a momentary blindness, and the ears stunned with a confusion of sounds. People sought shelter in the cellars, under rocks, or anywhere, for every place was nearly the same; and the miserable negroes, flying from their huts, were knocked down, or wounded, and many killed in the open air. Several houses were set on fire. The estates situated in the immediate vicinity, seemed doomed to destruction. Had the stones which fell been heavy in proportion to their size, not a living creature could have escaped death: these, having undergone a thorough fusion, were divested of their natural gravity, and fell almost as light as pumice, though in some places as large as a man’s head. This dreadful rain of stones and fire lasted upward of an hour, and was again succeeded by cinders from three till six o’clock in the morning. Earthquake followed earthquake, almost momentarily; or rather the whole of this part of the island was in a state of continued oscillation; not agitated by shocks vertical or horizontal; but undulated like water shaken in a bowl.

“The break of day, if such it could be called, was truly terrific. Utter darkness prevailed till eight o’clock, and the birth of May dawned like the day of judgment: a chaotic gloom enveloped the mountain, and an impenetrable haze hung over the sea, with black sluggish clouds of a sulphureous cast. The whole island was covered with cinders, scoriæ, and broken masses of volcanic matter. It was not until the afternoon, that the muttering noise of the mountain sunk gradually into a solemn yet suspicious silence. Such are the particulars of this sublime and tremendous scene, from its commencement to its catastrophe.”

PETER BOTTE’S MOUNTAIN.

[See cut, page 74.]

The singular peak represented in the cut, is in the island of Mauritius, which lies in the Indian ocean, east of Madagascar. The island is about one hundred and forty miles in circuit, and produces rice, sugar, cloves, indigo, and various tropical fruits. It was first settled by the Dutch; but the French gained possession of it in 1715. In 1810, the English took it, and it is still held by them. The island seems to have been thrown up from the sea by volcanic eruptions, as it everywhere bears marks of convulsions by inward fires. In its central parts are wild craggy mountains, the summits of which are always covered with snow. And among these is the peak represented in the cut, which is eighteen hundred feet in hight, and surrounded by dismal ravines. It is called Peter Botte’s mountain, from a legend that a man of that name once ascended to the top. The general belief, however, is, that it was never ascended till the year 1832, when the top of it was reached by a party under Capt. Lloyd, an English engineer. The exploit was one of the most hazardous, and the account of it is almost painful to the reader, from the evident peril of the adventurers.

KILAUEA.

While on the subject of wonderful volcanoes, we must not omit to notice one that has been called the “Niagara of volcanoes,” and the “king of volcanoes,” =viz.=, Kilauea, the great volcano of the Sandwich islands, which is on the island of Hawaii, about thirty miles from Hilo bay. One of the missionaries, from whom we have the account, started to visit it on horseback; but the way being rough and the animal unshod, he severely felt the inconvenience of the lava, became discouraged, and moved so slowly, that he was given up, and the missionary and his associate proceeded on foot.

“Toward evening,” he continues, “we reached Olaa, an inland settlement; and the next day, before noon, had arrived at an elevation of some four thousand feet, at a distance of twenty miles from Hilo bay.

“Approaching the great crater of Kilauea, we had a fine view of the magnificent dome of Mauna Loa, stretching on some twenty miles beyond it, and rising above it to the lofty hight of ten thousand feet. Evidences of existing volcanic agency multiplied around us; steam, gas and smoke, issued from the sulphur banks on the north-east and south-east sides of the crater, and here and there, from deep and extended fissures connected with the fiery subterranean agency; and as we passed circumspectly along the apparently depressed plain that surrounds the crater, we observed an immense volume of smoke and vapor ascending from the midst of it. At the same time, and from the same source, various unusual sounds, not easily described or explained, fell with increasing intensity on the ear. Then the angry abyss, the fabled habitation and throne of Pele, the great idol goddess whom the Hawaiians formerly worshiped, opened before us.

“Coming near to the rim, I fell upon my hands and knees, awe-struck, and crept cautiously to the rocky brink; for with all my natural and acquired courage, I was unwilling at once to walk up to the giddy verge, and look down upon the noisy, fiery gulf beneath my feet. Shortly, however, I was able to stand very near, and gaze upon this wonder of the world, which I wish I could set before my readers, in all its mystery, magnitude and grandeur. It is not a lofty cone, or mountain-top pointing to the heavens, but a vast chasm in the earth, five or six times the depth of Niagara falls, and seven or eight miles in circumference. It is situated on the flank of a vast mountain, which has been gradually piled up by a similar agency during the course of ages. Such is the immense extent and depth of Kilauea, that it would take in, entire, the city of Philadelphia or New York, and make their loftiest spires, viewed from the rim, appear small and low. But neither cities nor meadows, nor water nor vegetation, can be found in this chief of the deep places of the earth, but a lake of lava, some black and indurated, some fiery and flowing, some cooling as a floating bridge over the fathomless molten abyss, seven times hotter than Nebuchadnezzar’s hottest furnace, and some bursting up through this temporary incrustation, rending it here and there, and forming mounds and cones upon it. The immense mass, laboring to escape, pressed against the great crater’s sides, which consist not of a frail ‘Chinese wall,’ built by human hands to resist human strength, but an irregularly elliptical wall of basaltic rocks, extending a thousand feet above the surface of the lava lake, and to unknown depths below. Six hundred feet below, the verge stretches around horizontally, a vast amphitheater gallery of black indurated lava, once fluid but now solid, and on which an army of a hundred thousand men might stand to view the sublime spectacle beneath, around, and above them.

“While through the eye, the impressions of grandeur, strong at first, increased till the daylight was gone, the impressions received through the ear, were peculiar, and by no means inconsiderable. The fiercely whizzing sound of gas and steam, rushing with varying force through obstructed apertures in blowing cones, or cooling crusts of lava, and the laboring, wheezing, struggling, as of a living mountain, breathing fire and smoke and sulphurous gas from his lurid nostrils, tossing up molten rocks or detached portions of fluid lava, and breaking up vast indurated masses with varied detonations, all impressively bade us stand in awe. When we reached the verge, or whenever we came from a little distance to look over, these strange sounds increased, as if some intelligent power, with threatening tones and gestures, indignant at our obtrusiveness, were forbidding us to approach. The effect of all this on aboriginal visitors, before the true God was made known to them, may have been to induce or confirm the superstition, that a deity or family of deities dwelt there, and recognized the movements of men, and in various ways expressed anger against them. If my native fellow-travelers had not been cured of their superstition, or had not known me to be opposed to all idolatry, and particularly to the worship of Pele, the goddess whom they once supposed dwelt there, they might naturally have mistaken my almost involuntary prostration, as an act of religious homage to this discarded Hawaiian deity. But the missionaries had set at naught the tabus of this deity, and Kapiolani had openly invaded the same, and descending into this crater had, in a fearless and Christian manner, there acknowledged Jehovah as the only true God, and proclaimed to her countrymen that this was but one of the fires which he has kindled and controls. So that the natives now with me were ready devoutly to acknowledge all this.

“When seven years before our visit, Messrs. Ellis, Thurston, Bishop and Goodrich, accompanied by Mr. Harwood, visited this yawning gulf, they said of it: ‘The bottom was filled with lava, and the south-west and northern parts of it were one vast flood of liquid fire, in a state of terrific ebullition, rolling to and fro its fiery surge and flaming billows. Fifty-one craters of various forms and sizes, rose, like so many conical islands from the surface of the burning lake. Twenty-two constantly emitted columns of gray smoke and pyramids of brilliant flame, and many of them at the same time vomited from their ignited mouths, streams of fluid lava, which rolled in blazing torrents down their black, indented sides, into the boiling mass of fire below.’ The surface of this body of lava is subject to unceasing changes from year to year; for ‘deep calleth unto deep’ continually, and the fiery billows of this troubled ocean never rest.

“As night came on we took our station on the north side of the very brink, where we supposed we should be able most securely and satisfactorily to watch the action of this awful laboratory during the absence of the light of the sun. Though the spot where we spread our blanket for a lodgment had been considered as the safest in the neighborhood, there was room for the feeling of insecurity which some who had preceded us have thus described. ‘The detachment of one small stone beneath, or a slight agitation of the earth, would have precipitated us, amid the horrid crash of falling rocks, into the burning lake.’ Had I thought the danger so imminent, I should have deemed it prudent to take a position somewhat further off. The mass which supported us had doubtless been shaken a thousand times, and was liable every hour to be shaken again; but being in the short curvature of the crater, like the key-stone of an arch, it could not easily be thrown from its position by any agitation that would naturally occur while this great safety-valve is kept open, or the numerous fissures round it, reaching to the very bowels of the mountain, convey harmlessly from unknown depths, gases and volumes of steam, generated where water comes in contact with intense volcanic heat. Our position was about four thousand feet above the level of the sea, and one thousand above the surface of the lake below us.

“The great extent of the surface of this lava lake; the numerous places in it where the fiery element was displaying itself; the conical mouths here and there discharging glowing lava overflowing and spreading its waves around, or belched out in detached and molten masses that were shot forth with detonations, perhaps by the force of gases struggling through from below the surface, while the vast column of vapor and smoke ascended up toward heaven, and the coruscations of the emitted brilliant lava, illuminating the clouds that passed over the terrific gulf, all presented by night a splendid and sublime panorama of volcanic action, probably nowhere surpassed, if ever equaled, and which to be imagined must be seen. Had Vulcan employed ten thousand giant Cyclops, each with a steam-engine of a thousand horse-power, blowing anthracite coal for smelting mountain minerals, or heaving up and hammering to pieces the everlasting rocks and hills, their united efforts would but begin to compare with the work of Pele here.

“There was enough of mystery connected with the wonderful experiments going on before our eyes, to give ample employment to fancy and philosophy, and materially to enhance the sublimity of the fearful scene. For it might be asked, how can such an immense mass of rocks and earth be kept incessantly in a state of fusion without fuel or combustion? Or by what process could such solid masses be fused at all, in accordance with any mode of generating heat with which we are acquainted? If there be combustion in the crater adequate to the melting of such vast masses of substances so hard, rocky and earthy, why is there an accumulation and increase of the general mass, so that millions of cubic fathoms are, from time to time, added to the solid contents of the mountain? But if the bowels of the mountain are supposed to be melted by intense heat in some way generated, could they be heaved up by the expansion of steam or gas, while an orifice equal to three or four square miles, like that of Kilauea, or the terminal crater on the same mountain, is kept open; for steam and gas might be supposed to pass through the fluid masses and escape, instead of raising them from a depth, just as steam issues from the bottom of a boiling caldron, without materially elevating the surface of its contents.

“But if with one class of geologists, we suppose the interior of the earth to be in a molten and fluid state, as perhaps originally created, and that Kilauea and other volcanoes are but the openings and safety-valves of that subterranean, fiery, central ocean of red or white-hot matter, then we have here no faint illustration of the bold imagery used by the sacred writers, and of their phraseology, which to some seems hyperbolical and even paradoxical, as when they speak of the ‘bottomless pit,’ the ‘fire that is not quenched,’ ‘the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone,’ ‘the smoke of their torment which ascendeth up forever and ever.’ If such a vast mass of fiery fluid constitutes the main portion of the interior of the earth, it is literally ‘bottomless;’ and the opened surface, like that of Kilauea, may be strictly called a ‘lake of fire;’ and as sulphur and particles of the sulphuret of iron are present, it may well be called ‘a lake that burns with fire and brimstone.’

“After gazing at the wonderful and wonderfully sublime scene for some twenty hours, taking but a little time for repose, we found the sense of fear subsiding, and curiosity prompting to a closer intercourse with Pele, and a more familiar acquaintance with her doings and habits. Many who try the experiment, though at first appalled, are ready after a few hours, to wend their way down the steep sides of the crater. Thus we descended into the immense pit from the north-east side, where it was practicable, first to the black ledge or amphitheater gallery, and thence to the surface of the lava lake. This we found extremely irregular, presenting cones, mounds, plains, vast bridges of lava recently cooled, pits and caverns, and portions of considerable extent in a movable and agitated state. We walked over lava which, by some process, had been fractured into immensely large slabs, as though it had been contracted by cooling, or been heaved up irregularly by the semi-fluid mass below. In the fissures of this fractured lava, the slabs or blocks two feet below the surface, were red-hot. A walking-stick thrust down would be set on fire and flame instantly.

“Passing over many masses of such lava, we ventured toward the more central part of the lake, and came near to a recent mound which had probably been raised on the cooling surface, after our arrival the day before. From the top of it flowed melted lava, which spread itself in waves to a considerable distance, one side or the other, all around. The masses thrown out in succession moved sluggishly, and as they flowed down the inclined plane, a crust was formed over them, which darkened and hardened, and became stationary, while the stream still moved on below it. The front of the mass, red-hot, passed along down, widening and expanding itself, and forcing its way through a net-work, as it were, of irregular filaments of iron, which the cooling process freely supplied. This motion of a flowing mass, whether smaller or larger, seen from the rim of the crater by night, gives the appearance of a fiery surf, or a rolling wave of fire, or the dancing along of an extended semicircular flame on the surface of the lake. When one wave has expended itself, or found its level, or otherwise become stationary, another succeeds and passes over it in like manner, and then another, sent out as it were, by the pulsations of the earth’s open artery, at the top of the mound. This shows how a mound, cone, pyramid, or mountain, can be gradually built of lava, and wide plains covered at its base with the same material.

“We approached near the border of some of these waves, and reached the melted lava with a stick two yards long; and thus obtained several specimens red-hot from the flowing mass. I have since had occasion to be surprised at the absence of fear in this close contiguity with the terrible element, where the heat under our feet was as great as our shoes would bear, and the radiating heat from the moving mass was so intense that I could face it only a few seconds at a time at a distance of two or three yards. Yet having carefully observed its movements awhile, I threw a stick of wood upon the thin crust of a moving wave where I believed it would bear me, even if it should bend a little, and stood upon it a few moments. In that position, thrusting my cane down through the cooling, tough crust, about half an inch thick, I withdrew it, and forthwith there gushed up of the melted, flowing lava under my feet, enough to form a globular mass two and a half or three inches in diameter, which, as it cooled, I broke off and bore away as spoils from the ancient domain and favorite seat of the great idol goddess of the Hawaiians. Parts that were in violent action we dared not approach.

“There is a remarkable variety in the volcanic productions of Hawaii; a variety as to texture, form and size, from the vast mountain and extended plain, to the fine-drawn and most delicate vitreous fiber, the rough clinker, the smooth stream, the basaltic rock, and masses compact and hard as granite or flint, and the pumice or porous scoriæ, or cinders, which, when hot, probably formed a scum or foam on the surface of the denser molten mass. Considerable quantities of capillary glass are produced at Kilauea, though I am not aware that the article is found elsewhere on the islands. Its production has been deemed mysterious. In its appearance it resembles human hair, and among the natives is familiarly called ‘=Lauoho o Pele=,’ the hair of Pele. It is formed, I presume, by the tossing off of small detached portions of lava of the consistence of melted glass, from the mouths of cones, when a fine vitreous thread is drawn out between the moving portion, and that from which it is detached. The fine-spun product is then blown about by the wind, both within and around the crater, and is collected in little locks or tufts.

“Sulphur is seen, but in small quantities, in and around the crater; and at a little distance from the rim there are yellow banks, on which beautiful crystals of sulphur may be found. In one place, a pool of pure distilled water, condensed from the steam that rises from a deep fissure, affords the thirsty traveler a beverage far better than that of the ordinary distiller. There is, however, a kind of sulphurous gas produced by the volcano, which is highly deleterious if breathed often or freely. This is one source of danger to the visitor, which, while I was down a thousand feet below the rim, produced a temporary coughing.

“I was, perhaps, too venturesome, but other visitors have been far more so. As one instance of this, Dr. Judd, having become familiar with the volcanic power, in his ardor to secure valuable and recent specimens for the United States exploring expedition, on the visit of Commodore Wilkes and his company to this crater, descended to the surface of the lake, and then into a sub-crater in the midst of the larger. While he was busily engaged there in collecting specimens, a sudden bursting up of a huge volume of fluid lava from the bottom of the sub-crater, alarmed him, and threatened speedily to overwhelm and destroy him. He sprang to escape, but finding the rim overhanging, he could not scale it where he was; and the flowing mass was now too near to allow him to return to the place where he had descended; and its radiating heat was too intense to be faced. Escape without assistance was utterly hopeless; and the natives of the company who were about the brink, and from whom such help might have been expected, alarmed for themselves, were flying for their lives. Dr. Judd, giving himself up for lost, offered a prayer to heaven, and was about to resign himself to his fate, when a friendly and resolute Hawaiian, who had been a pupil at the mission seminary, compassionating the exposed sufferer, faced the approaching fiery volume, and braving its intense heat, exposed his own life, reached down his strong hand, and firmly grasped the doctor’s, who thus, at the last available moment, through their united exertions and the blessing of heaven, escaped with his life from the horrible pit and a fiery grave! A mighty current instantly overflowed the place where they had just been standing, and they were obliged to run for their lives before the molten flood; and being able to outstrip it, they ascended from the surface of the abyss to the lofty rim, with heartfelt thanksgivings to their great deliverer.[1] This proves the real danger of descending too far into the crater of the volcano; and had it occurred in the days of unbroken superstition, it would doubtless have been ascribed to the anger of Pele, and tended to increase the number of her deluded worshipers. But now such a deliverance was justly ascribed to the kind providence of Jehovah, the knowledge of whose character, as displayed in the gospel, has introduced the Hawaiian race into a new life.

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Footnote 1:

See United States Exploring Expedition, vol. iv., p. 173.

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“Kilauea may be regarded as one of the safety-valves of a bottomless reservoir of melted earth, below the cooled and cooling crust on which mountains rise, rivers flow, oceans roll, and cities are multiplied as the habitations of men. It has been kept open from time immemorial, always displaying more or less of its active power. The circumambient air which carries off the caloric, sometimes aided by rain, is incessantly endeavoring to shut up this valve, or bridge over this orifice of three or four square miles of the fiery abyss. Sometimes the imperfect bridge of cooling lava is pierced with fifty or sixty large, rough, conical chimneys, emitting gas, smoke, flame, and lava; and sometimes the vast bridge is broken up, and all these cones submerged and probably fused again by the intense heat of the vast fluid mass supplied fresh from the interior. The mass rises gradually higher and higher, hundreds of feet, till by its immense pressure against the sides of the crater, aided, perhaps, by the power of gas or steam, it forces a passage for miles through the massive walls, and inundates with its fiery deluge some portion of the country below, or passing through it, as a river of fire, pours itself into the sea at the distance of twenty-five miles, thus disturbing with awful uproar the domains of old Neptune, and enlarging the dominions of the Hawaiian sovereign.

“The whole island, with its ample and towering mountains, is often shaken with awful throes, and creation here ‘groaneth and travaileth in pain.’ In July, 1840, a river of lava flowed out from Kilauea, and passing some miles under ground, burst out in the district of Puna, and inundated a portion of the country, sweeping down forests, carrying everything in its way before it, and as a river a mile wide, falling into the sea, and heating the waters of the ocean, making war upon its inhabitants, and by the united action of this volcanic flood and the sea, formed several huge, rough hills of sand and lava along the shore. And still later than the above date, a similar flood has been poured from the summit of Mauna Loa, flowing with terrific force for weeks, and thus elevating a portion of the region between Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea; and so extensive and splendid was this exhibition, that it could be seen from the missionary station at Hilo, a distance of about forty miles.

“After having spent some thirty hours on this king of all the volcanoes, we set out to return. And on our journey we passed over several large tracts of lava of different kinds, some smooth, vitreous and shining, some twisted and coiled like huge ropes, and some consisting of sharp, irregular, loose, rugged volcanic masses, of every form and size, from an ounce in weight to several tuns, thrown, I could not conceive how, into a chaos or field of the roughest surface, presenting a forbidding area of from one to forty square miles in extent; and though not precipitous, yet so horrid as to forbid a path, and to defy the approach of horses and cattle. In the crevices of the more solid lava are found the ohelo, which somewhat resembles the whortleberry, nourished by frequent showers and dew. At ten o’clock we halted for breakfast, and by the time the sun was setting had reached Waimea, thus completing our excursion to this vast volcano, which is truly one of the wonders of the world!”

THE PEAK OF DERBYSHIRE.

This peak consists of a chain of high mountains in the county of Derby, in England, and has been long celebrated, as well on account of its mineral productions, and natural curiosities in general, as of what are called its seven wonders. Six of these are natural, namely, Poole’s Hole, Elden Hole, the Peak Cavern, or the Devil’s Hole, Mam Tor, St. Ann’s Well, and the Ebbing and Flowing Well. Having described these, we shall add a more recent discovery, that of the Crystallized Cavern, which possesses an equal interest.

Poole’s Hole, lying about a mile to the westward of Buxton, is a vast cavern formed by nature in the limestone rock, and was, according to tradition, the residence of an outlaw, named Poole. The entrance is low and contracted, and the passage narrow; but this widening, at length, leads to a lofty and spacious cavern, from the roof of which stalactites or transparent crystals, formed by the constant dropping of water laden with calcareous matter, hang in spiral masses. Other portions of these petrifactions drop and attach themselves to the floor, rising in cones, and become what are termed stalagmites.

One of the dropping stalactites, of an immense size, called the Flitch of Bacon, occurs about the middle of the cavern, which here becomes very narrow, but soon spreads to a greater width, and continues large and lofty until the visitor reaches another surprisingly large mass of stalactite, to which the name of Mary Queen of Scots’ Pillar is given, from the tradition that this unfortunate queen once paid a visit to the cavern, and proceeded thus far into its recesses. As this pillar can not be passed without some difficulty, few persons venture beyond it; nor does it seem desirable, as, by proceeding thus far, a very competent idea of the cavern may be formed. The path hitherto is along the side, and at some hight from the bottom of the cavern; but to visit and examine the interior extremity, it becomes necessary to descend a few yards by very slippery and ill-formed steps. The path at the bottom is tolerably even and level for about sixty feet, when an almost perpendicular ascent commences, which leads to the extremity of the fissure, through the eye of St. Anthony’s Needle, a narrow strait, beyond which the steepness of the way is only to be surmounted by clambering over irregular masses of rock. The cavern terminates nearly three hundred feet beyond the Queen of Scots’ pillar. Toward the end is an aperture through a projecting rock, behind which a candle is generally placed, when any person has reached the extremity: when seen at that distance, it appears like a dim star. The visitor returns along the bottom of the cavern, beneath a considerable portion of the road by which he entered; and, by thus changing the path, has an opportunity better to ascertain the hight and width of the cavern in every part, and to view other accumulated petrifactions, some of which are of a prodigious size, and of an extraordinary form. In one part of this passage is a fine spring of transparent water; and a small stream, which becomes more considerable in rainy seasons, runs through the whole length of the cavern. Its sound, in passing through this spacious and lofty concavity, which resembles the interior of a Gothic cathedral, has a fine effect. To the right, in a small cavern called Poole’s chamber, is a curious echo.

The various masses of stalactical matter which are everywhere met with in this natural excavation, and which reflect innumerable rays from the lights carried by guides, are distinguished by the names of the objects they are fancied most to resemble. Thus we have Poole’s saddle, his turtle, and his woolsack; the lion, the lady’s toilet, the pillion, the bee-hive, &c. It should be noticed, however, that the forms are constantly varied by the percolation of the water through the roof and sides of the rock. The subterraneous passage is nearly a half a mile in length.

ELDEN HOLE.

Elden Hole is situated on the side of a gentle hill about a mile to the north-west of the village of Peak Forest. It is a deep chasm in the ground, surrounded by a wall, of uncemented stones, to prevent accidents. This fissure or cleft in the rock has been the subject of many exaggerated descriptions and superstitious reports, having been represented not only as unfathomable, but as teeming, at a certain depth, with so impure an air, that it could not be respired without immediate destruction. Mr. Lloyd, however, who descended it about seventy years ago, has proved the absurdity of these relations, in a paper, of which the following is a brief abstract, published in the Philosophical Transactions.

For the first sixty feet, he observes, he descended somewhat obliquely, the passage then becoming difficult from projecting crags. At the further depth of thirty feet, the inflection of his rope varied at least eighteen feet from the perpendicular. The breadth of the chink was here about nine feet, and the length eighteen; the sides being irregular, moss-grown, and wet. Within forty-two feet of the bottom, the rock opened on the east, and he swung till he reached the floor of a cave, one hundred and eighty-six feet only from the mouth, the light from which was sufficiently strong to permit the reading of any book. The interior of the chasm he describes as consisting of two parts, which communicate with each other by a small arched passage, the one resembling an oven, the other the dome of a glass-house. On the south side of the latter, was a small opening, about twelve feet in length, and four feet in hight, lined throughout with a kind of sparkling stalactite, of a fine deep yellow color, with petrifying drops hanging from the roof. Tracing the entrance he found a noble column, above ninety feet high, of the same kind of incrustation. As he proceeded to the north, he came to a large stone which was covered with the same substance; and beneath it he found a hole six feet in depth, uniformly lined with it. From the edge of this hole sprung up a rocky ascent, sloping, like a buttress, against the side of the cavern, and consisting of vast, solid, round masses of the same substance and color. Having climbed this ascent to the hight of about sixty feet, he obtained some fine pieces of stalactite, which hung from the craggy sides of the cavern. Descending with some difficulty and danger, he proceeded in the same direction, and soon came to another pile of incrustations of a brown color, above which he found a small cavern, opening into the side of the vault, which he now entered. Here he saw vast masses of stalactite, hanging like icicles from every part of the roof: several of these were four and five feet long, and thick as a man’s body. The sides of the largest cavern were chiefly lined with incrustations of three kinds, the first of which was a deep yellow stalactite; the second, a thin coating which resembled a pale stone-color varnish, and reflected the light of the candle with great splendor; and the third, a rough efflorescence, the shoot of which resembled a rose flower.

Some more recent visitors have thus stated the result of their observations and inquiries relative to Elden Hole. They describe the mouth of this chasm as opening horizontally, in a direction from north to south; its shape being nearly that of an irregular ellipse, about ninety feet in length, and twenty-seven in breadth at the widest part. The northern end is fringed with small trees; and moss and underwood grow out of the crevices on each side, to the depth of forty or fifty feet. As the fissure recedes from the surface, it gradually contracts; and at the depth of about seventy feet inclines considerably to the west, so as to prevent its course from being further traced. Notwithstanding the obstacles of the bushes and projecting masses of stone, it was sounded, and its depth found not to exceed two hundred and two feet, an estimate which corresponds with the assertion of three miners, who had descended in search of the bodies of individuals who were missing, and were supposed to have been robbed, murdered, and thrown into this frightful abyss.

PEAK CAVERN.

Peak cavern, also called the Devil’s Hole, is one of those magnificent, sublime, and extraordinary productions of nature, which constantly excite the wonder and admiration of their beholders. It has accordingly been considered one of the principal wonders of Derbyshire, and has been celebrated by several poets. It lies in the vicinity of Castleton, and is approached by a path at the side of a clear rivulet, leading to the fissure, or separation of the rock, at the extremity of which the cavern is situated. It would be difficult to imagine a scene more august than that which presents itself to the visitor at its entrance: on each side, the huge gray rocks rise almost perpendicularly, to the hight of nearly three hundred feet, or about seven times the hight of a modern house, and meeting each other at right or cross angles, form a deep gloomy recess. In front, it is overhung by a vast canopy of rock, assuming the appearance of a depressed arch, and extending, in width, one hundred and twenty feet, in hight forty-two, and in receding depth about ninety. After penetrating about ninety feet into the cavern, the roof becomes lower, and a gentle descent leads, by a detached rock, to the interior entrance of this tremendous hollow. Here the light of day, having gradually diminished, wholly disappears; and the visitor is provided with a torch to illumine his further progress.

The progress now becoming extremely confined, he is obliged to proceed, in a stooping posture, about twenty yards, when he reaches a spacious opening, named the Bellhouse, and is thence led to a small lake, called the First Water, about forty feet in length, but not more than two or three feet in depth. Over this he is conveyed in a boat to the interior of the cavern, beneath a massive vault of rock, which in some parts descends to within eighteen or twenty inches of the water. “We stood some time,” says M. de St. Fond, “on the brink of this lake; and the light of our dismal torches, which emitted a black smoke, reflecting our pale images from its bottom, we almost conceived we saw a troop of specters starting from an abyss to welcome us. The illusion was extremely striking.”

On landing, the visitor enters a spacious vacuity, two hundred and twenty feet in length, two hundred feet in breadth, and in some parts one hundred and twenty feet in hight, opening into the bosom of the rock; but, from the want of light, neither the distant sides nor the roof of this abyss, can be seen. In a passage at the inner extremity of this vast cave, the stream which flows through the whole length of the cavern, spreads into what is called the Second Water, and near its termination is a projecting pile of rocks, known by the appellation of Roger Rain’s House, from the incessant fall of water in large drops through the crevices of the roofs. Beyond this, opens another tremendous hollow, called the Chancel, where the rocks are much broken, and the sides covered with stalactical or petrified incrustations. Here the visitor is surprised by a vocal concert which bursts in discordant tones from the upper regions of the chasm. “Still,” observes a tourist, “this being unexpected, and issuing from a quarter where no object can be seen, in a place where all else is still as death, is calculated to impress the imagination with solemn ideas, and can seldom be heard without that emotion of awe and pleasure, astonishment and delight, which is one of the most interesting feelings of the mind.” At the conclusion of the strain, the choristers, who consist of eight or ten women and children, are seen ranged in the hollow of the rock, about fifty feet above the floor.

The path now leads to a place whimsically called the Devil’s Cellar and Half-way House, and thence, by three natural and regular arches, to a vast concavity, which, from its uniform bell-like appearance, is called Great Tom of Lincoln. When illuminated by a strong light, this concavity has a very pleasing effect; the symmetrical disposition of the rocks, the stream flowing beneath, and the spiracles in the roof, forming a very interesting picture. From this point the vault gradually descends, the passage contracts, and at length does not leave more than sufficient room for the current of the stream, which continues to flow through a subterraneous channel of several miles in extent, as is proved by the small stones brought into it after great rains, from the distant mines of the Peak Forest.

The entire length of this wonderful cavern is twenty-two hundred and fifty feet, or nearly half a mile; and its depth, from the surface of the Peak mountain, about six hundred and twenty feet. A curious effect is produced by the explosion of a small quantity of gunpowder, wedged into the rock in the interior of the cavern; for the sound appears to roll along the roof and sides, like a tremendous and continued peal of thunder. The effect of the light, on returning from these dark recesses, is particularly impressive; and the gradual illumination of the rocks, which becomes brighter as the entrance is approached, is said to exhibit one of the most interesting scenes that ever employed the pencil of an artist, or fixed the admiration of a spectator.

MAM TOR.

Mam Tor or the Shivering Mountain, is a huge precipice facing the east or south-east, chiefly composed of a peculiar kind of slate, which, although very hard before it is exposed to the air, very easily crumbles to dust on such exposure. Hence it is perpetually wasted by the action of the rain and snow; while the harder and larger masses of stone being thus loosened and disengaged, necessarily fall from their positions, and this with a rushing noise which is occasionally so loud as to be heard at Castleton, a distance of two miles. The valley beneath is overwhelmed with their fragments to the extent of half a mile. In many parts of the precipice, they produce, before their descent, a cavernous appearance, and even a romantic overhanging scenery, highly dangerous to be approached. It is affirmed by the most intelligent of the neighboring inhabitants, that this mountain chiefly wastes during violent storms of snow and rain; and Mr. Martin, who published an account of Mam Tor, in the Philosophical Transactions for 1729, affirms that the decay is not constantly the same. He not only surveyed it closely, but ascended the steepest part of the precipice, without tracing any other shivering in the mountain, beside that which was occasioned by the treading of his feet in the loose crumbled earth.

THE EBBING AND FLOWING WELL.

In the vicinity of Chapel-en-le-Frith is a steep hill, rising to the hight of more than a hundred feet, immediately beneath which this natural phenomenon lies. It is of an irregular form, but nearly approaching to a square, from two or three feet in depth, and about twenty feet in width.

Its ebbings and flowings are irregular, and dependent on the quantity of rain which falls in the different seasons of the year; when it begins to rise, the current can only be perceived by the slow movement of the blades of grass, or other light bodies floating on the surface; notwithstanding which, before the expiration of a minute, the water issues with a gurgling noise, in considerable quantities, from several small apertures on the south and west sides. The interval of time between the ebbing and flowing is not always alike: consequently the proportion of water it discharges at different periods, also varies. In the space of five minutes flowing, the water occasionally rises to the hight of six inches; and, after remaining a few seconds stationary, the well assumes its former quiescent state.

The cause of the intermittent flowing of this well may be satisfactorily explained, on the principle of the action of the siphon, and on the supposition of a natural one communicating with a cavity in the hill, where the water may be supposed to accumulate; but for the phenomenon of its ebbing, no satisfactory reason has been assigned. The opinion of a second siphon, (which is ingeniously advanced by one tourist,) that begins to act when the water rises, is inconsistent with the appearance of the well, and therefore can not be just.

ST. ANNE’S WELL.

This well, the usual resort of the company who frequent Buxton to drink the waters, has been classed among the wonders of the peak, on account of this singularity, that within five feet of the hot spring by which it is supplied, a cold one arises. This is not, however, the only well of the kind, since hot and cold springs rise near each other in many parts of England, and in other countries. The water is conveyed to the well, which is an elegant classical building, in the Grecian style, from the original spring, by a narrow passage, so close and well contrived as to prevent it from losing any considerable portion of its heat, and is received in a white marble bason. It is not so warm as the Bath water, its temperature being about eighty degrees of Fahrenheit.

THE CRYSTALLIZED CAVERN.

The crystallized cavern, the new wonder of the Derbyshire Peak, was discovered some years ago in the vicinity of the village of Bradwell. We extract the following particulars of this singular and beautiful natural excavation, from Hutchinson’s tour in the High Peak.

The entrance is rather terrific than grand; and the descent, for about thirty paces, very abrupt. The visitor has then to pass along the inclined way for nearly a quarter of a mile, the opening being so low that it is impossible to proceed, in particular parts, in an erect posture. The different crystallizations which now attract his attention on every side, soon make him forget the irksomeness of the road, and banish every idea of fatigue. New objects of curiosity crowd one on the other. In a place called the Music Chamber, the petrifactions take the semblance of the pipes of an organ; while in other parts, these stalactites are formed into elegant small colonnades, with as exact a symmetry as if they had been chiseled by the most skillful artist. Candles judiciously disposed within them, give an idea of the imaginary palaces of fairies, or of sylphs and genii, who have chosen this for their magnificent abode.

Still he has seen nothing comparable to what he is now to expect; for, at the distance of about a hundred paces further, by a rugged descent, he enters what is called the Grotto of Paradise. This heavenly spot, for it can not be compared to anything terrestrial, is, of itself, a beautiful crystallized cavern, about twelve feet high, and in length twenty feet, pointed at the top, similar to a Gothic arch, with a countless number of large stalactites hanging from the roof. Candles placed among them give some idea of its being lighted up with elegant glass chandeliers; while the sides are entirely incrusted, and brilliant in the extreme. The floor is checkered with black and white spar. It has, altogether, a most novel and elegant appearance. This glittering apartment would be left by the visitor with a certain degree of regret, did he not expect to see it again on his return.

Still continuing a route similar to the one he has passed, in the course of which his attention is occasionally arrested by the curiosities of the place, and by the gentle droppings of the water, which scarcely break the solemn silence of the scene, he at length reaches the Grotto of Calypso, and the extremity of the cavern, upward of two thousand feet from the entrance. To see this grotto to advantage, he has to ascend about six feet, into a recess. There, the beautiful appearance of the different crystallizations, some of them of an azure cast, and the echoes reverberating from side to side, make him fancy he has reached the secluded retreat of some mythological deity.

Returning by the same path for a considerable distance, another cavern, which branches in a south-west direction from the one already explored, presents itself. The roads here are still more difficult of access, but the stalactites are certainly most beautiful. Many of them, more than a yard in length, are pendent from the roof, and the greater part do not exceed the dimension of the smallest reed. The top and sides of this cavern are remarkably smooth, particularly at the part called the Amphitheater. In general, the stone is of a very dark color, to which the transparent appearances before mentioned, with each a drop of water hanging at its extremity, form a fine contrast.

SPEEDWELL LEVEL.

In the Speedwell Level, or Navigation Mine, in the vicinity of Castleton, art has been combined with the subterraneous wonders of nature. Being provided with lights, the guide leads the visitor beneath an arched vault, by a flight of one hundred and six steps, to the sough or level, where a boat is ready for his reception, and is put in motion by pushing against pegs driven into the wall for that purpose. After proceeding about one-third of a mile through various caverns, the level bursts into a tremendous gulf, the roof and bottom of which are invisible, but across which the navigation has been carried, by throwing a strong arch over a part of the fissure where the rocks are least separated. Here, leaving the boat, and ascending a stage erected above the level, the attention of the visitor is directed to the dark recess of the abyss beneath his feet; and firm indeed must be his resolution, if he can contemplate the scene unmoved, and without an involuntary shudder. To the depth of ninety feet all is vacuity and gloom; but beyond that commences a pool of Stygian waters, not unaptly named the Bottomless Pit, the prodigious range of which may in some measure be conceived, by the circumstance of its having swallowed up more than forty thousand tuns of rubbish, made in blasting the rock, without any apparent diminution either of its depth or extent. The guides assert that the former has not been ascertained; but there is reason to believe that its actual depth in standing water is about three hundred and twenty feet. There can not, however, be a doubt but that this abyss has communications with others still more deeply situated in the bowels of the mountain, and into which the precipitated rubbish has found a passage. The superfluous water of the level falls through a water-gate into this profound caldron, with a noise like a rushing torrent.

This fissure is calculated to be about eight hundred feet beneath the surface of the mountain; and so great is its reach upward, that rockets of sufficient strength to ascend four hundred and fifty feet, have been fired without rendering the roof visible. The effect of a Bengal light discharged in this stupendous cavity, is extremely magnificent and interesting.

THE HIGH TOR.

This is one of the many sublime objects presented by Matlock dale, the beauties of which will be cursorily described, in proportion as these objects pass under our review.

In approaching the bath, which is nearly a mile to the south-west of the village of Matlock, a specimen of the scenery by which this charming vale is distinguished, presents itself. The entrance is through a rock, which has been blasted for the purpose of opening a convenient passage; and here a scene which blends the constituent principles of the picturesque, the beautiful and the sublime, opens suddenly on the view. Through the middle of a narrow plain flows the Derwent, overhung by a profusion of luxuriant beeches and other drooping trees. Toward the east are gently rising grounds, and on the west the huge mural banks of the vale stretch along, the white face of the rock of which they are composed occasionally displaying itself through the woody clothing of their sides and summits. This magnificent scenery is singularly contrasted by the manufactories and lodging-houses at the bottom of the vale.

To see this magic spot to the greatest advantage, it should be entered at its northern extremity, its beauties then succeeding each other in a proper gradation, and their grandeur and effect being rendered more impressive. The chief attention is now attracted to the High Tor, a grand and stupendous rock, which appears like a vast abrupt wall of limestone, and rises almost perpendicularly from the river, to the hight of upward of three hundred and fifty feet. The lower part of this majestic feature is shaded by yew-trees, elms, limes, and underwood of various foliage; but the upper part, for fifty or sixty yards, presents a rugged front of one broad mass of perpendicular rock. From its summit the vale is seen in all its grandeur, diversified by woods of various hues and species. The windings of the Derwent, the grayish-colored rocks, and the white fronts of the houses, embosomed amid groves of trees which sprout from every crevice of the precipices, give variety and animation to a scene of wonderful beauty.

CHEE TOR.

In a romantic and deep hollow, near the little village of Wormhill, the river Wye flows beneath this stupendous mass of rock, which rises perpendicularly more than three hundred and sixty feet above its level. The channel of the river, which meanders at the base, is confined between huge rocks of limestone, having such a general correspondence of situation and form, as to render it probable that they were once united. In some parts they are partially covered with brushwood, nut-trees and mountain-ash; while in others, they are totally naked, precipitous and impending. The chasm runs in a direction so nearly circular, that the sublime Chee Tor, and its dependent masses of rock, are almost insulated by the river which rolls at their feet. Its length, as far as it possesses any considerable beauty, is between five and six hundred yards; a distance which presents several picturesque and interesting views, the general effect of the fine scenery being enhanced by the plantations on the neighboring hights, and by a spring which flows into the river near the bottom of a deep descent, as well as by a romantic bridge over the river itself, a representation of which may be seen in the cut above. Not far from here is the well known Masson hill, celebrated in Darwin’s “Loves of the Plants,” which is so high as to overlook the country to a vast extent, and compared with which even the High Tor seems considerably diminished in grandeur and sublimity; but this effect is partly compensated by the extent of the prospect, and the variety of objects it comprehends. The hight of this eminence is about seven hundred and fifty feet, the path to its summit having been carried, in a winding direction, through a grove. About half-way in the ascent is an alcove, from which an extensive view of a great part of Matlock dale may be seen, through a fine avenue formed for that purpose.

THE CUMBERLAND CAVERN.

To the west and north-west of the village of Matlock, are three apertures in the rock, respectively named the Cumberland, Smedley, and Rutland caverns. The former of these is well deserving of a short notice.

The entrance is partly artificial, to afford a greater facility to the visitor, who has to descend fifty-four steps. The cavern now opens on him in solitary grandeur. Huge masses of stone are piled on each other with a tremendous kind of carelessness, evidently produced by some violent concussion, though at an unknown period. He is conducted to a long and wide passage, the roof of which has all the regularity of a finished ceiling, and is bespangled by spars of various descriptions. From above, from beneath, and from the sides, the rays of the lights are reflected in every direction. In an adjacent compartment, rocks are heaped on rocks in terrible array, and assume a threatening aspect. Next is an apartment decorated with what, in the language of the country, is called the snow-fossil, a petrifaction which, both in figure and color, resembles snow, as it is drifted by the winter storm into the cavities of a rock. Near the extremity of the cavern are to be seen fishes petrified and fixed in the several strata which form the surrounding recess. One of these has its back jutting out of the side of the earth, as if it had been petrified in the act of swimming. In another branch of the cavern a well has been found of a considerable depth.

REYNARD’S HOLE.

After having proceeded about a mile in Dove dale, the romantic and sublime beauties of which will be hereafter noticed, by a route constantly diversified by new fantastic forms, and uncouth combinations of rock, the visitor is led to a mass of mural rock, bearing the above name, and perforated by nature into a grand arch, nearly approaching to the shape of the sharply pointed Gothic style of architecture, about forty-five feet in hight, and in width twenty. Having passed through this arch, a steep ascent leads to a natural cavern, called Reynard’s Hall, forty-five feet in length, fifteen in breadth, and in hight thirty. From the mouth of this cavern the scenery is singular, beautiful and impressive. The face of the rock which contains the arch, rises immediately in front, and would effectually prevent the eye from ranging beyond its mighty barrier, did not its center open into the above-mentioned arch, through which is seen a small part of the opposite side of the dale, consisting of a mass of gloomy wood, from the shade of which a huge detached rock, solitary, cragged, and pointed, starts out to a great hight, and forms an object truly sublime. This rock, which has received the name of Dove Dale Church, is pleasingly contrasted by the little pastoral river, Dove, and by its verdant turfy banks. A narrow opening at the extremity of the cavern is supposed to lead to other similar cavities in the rock; and on the left is a cavern, about forty feet in length, in breadth fourteen, and in hight twenty-six, called Reynard’s Kitchen, from the interior of which a pleasing view is presented of the upper part of the dale, its river and rocks.

After passing Reynard’s Hole, already described, the rocks rise more abruptly on either side, and appear in shapes more wild and irregular, but diversified and softened by shrubs.

Dove dale is nearly three miles in length; but from the sinuosity of its course, and its projecting precipices, the views are limited. Throughout the whole of this majestic feature of country, the river Dove flows, in the halcyon days of summer, with soft murmurs, innocently and transparently over its pebbly bed; but swells into rage during the winter months. Little tufts of shrubs and underwood form islands in miniature within its bed, which enlarge and swell the other objects. The scenery of this dale is distinguished from almost every other in the united kingdoms, by the rugged, dissimilar, and frequently grotesque and fanciful appearance of the rocks. To employ the words of a tourist here, “It is, perhaps, on the whole one of the most pleasing sceneries of the kind anywhere to be met with. It has something peculiarly characteristic. Its detached, perpendicular rocks stamp it with an image entirely its own, and for that reason it affords the greater pleasure. For it is in scenery as in life. We are most struck with the peculiarity of an original character, provided there be nothing offensive

THOR’S HOUSE.

“Where Hamps and Manifold, their cliffs among, Each in his flinty channel winds along, With lucid lines the dusky moor divides, Hurrying to intermix their sister tides, Where still their silver-bosom’d nymphs abhor The blood-smear’d mansion of gigantic Thor— Erst fires volcanic in the marble womb Of cloud-wrapp’d Whetton rais’d the massy dome; Rocks rear’d on rocks, in huge disjointed piles, Form the tall turrets, and the lengthen’d aisles; Broad pond’rous piers sustain the roof, and wide Branch the vast rainbow ribs from side to side. While from above, descends, in milky streams, One scanty pencil of illusive beams, Suspended crags, and gaping gulfs illumes, And gilds the horrors of the deepen’d glooms. Here oft the Naiads, as they chanc’d to stray Near the dread Fane, on Thor’s returning day, Saw from red altars streams of guiltless blood, Stain their green reed-beds, and pollute their flood; Heard dying babes in wicker prisons wail, And shrieks of matrons thrill the affrighted gale; While from dark caves infernal echoes mock, And fiends triumphant shout from every rock!”—DARWIN.

This spacious cavern is situated about two miles above Dove dale, near the village of Whetton; and tradition says the Druids here offered human sacrifices, inclosed in wicker idols, to Thor, the principal deity of the Saxons and Danes, in the ages of their idolatrous worship. Beneath is an extensive and romantic common, where the rivers Hamps and Manifold sink into the earth, and rise again in Islam gardens. These rivers merit a brief description. A wooden bridge has been thrown over an abyss in the rock, out of which the river Manifold bursts with surprising force, after having pursued a subterraneous course of five miles, from the point where it had engulfed itself in the earth, called Weston hill. At the further distance of twenty yards a similar phenomenon occurs; for here another fissure of a rock presents itself, whence the river Hamps throws its water into day. This river disappears at Leek-water Houses, a place between Leek and Ashbourn; thus pursuing a subterraneous course of seven miles, before it again emerges into light. On their emersion, the temperatures of the two rivers differ two degrees and a half, the Hamps being the coldest.

THE LOVERS’ LEAP.

The environs of Buxton abound in romantic sites, among the most striking of which is the dale named the Lovers’ Leap, on account of a vast precipice which forms one side of a narrow chasm, and from the summit of which a love-lorn female is said to have precipitated herself into the rocky gulf below. Each side of this beautiful dell is bounded by elevated rocks, the proximity of which is such, that for a considerable space there is scarcely room for the passage of the bubbling current of the Wye. Several of these rocks are perpendicular, and bare of vegetation; while others are covered with ivy, yew and ash-wood, with a craggy steep occasionally starting through the verdure. A circular road, extending in circumference about three miles, passes in view of the most romantic part of this dale, and forms a very agreeable walk or ride from Buxton. At the southern extremity the scenery assumes a milder character, the hollow taking the name of Mill dale, from a mill which is turned by the stream. In conjunction with a rude bridge, a mountainous path, and other rural objects, this forms a very picturesque view. Another fine scene is presented by a lofty rock, called Swallow Tor, which soars over a mass of wood, the river at its base foaming and roaring over broken masses of limestone.

THE MOORS.

Derbyshire is everywhere fruitful in natural curiosities, among the most striking of which may be reckoned the moors of Hope parish, inasmuch as they afford an extraordinary instance of the preservation of human bodies interred in them. In the year 1674, a grazier and his female servant, in crossing these moors on their way to Ireland, were lost in the snow, with which they were covered from January to May, and being then discovered, the bodies were so offensive that the coroner ordered them to be buried on the spot. After a lapse of twenty-nine years, when the ground was opened, they were in no way changed, the color of the skin being fair and natural, and the flesh as soft as that of persons newly dead. For twenty succeeding years they were occasionally exposed as a spectacle, but carefully covered after being viewed. They lay at the depth of about three feet, in a moist soil or moss. The minister of Hope parish was present in 1716, forty-two years after the accident, at a particular inspection of these bodies. On the stockings being drawn off, the man’s legs, which had not been uncovered before, were quite fair: the flesh, when pressed by the finger, pitted a little; and the joints played freely, without the least stiffness. Such parts of the clothing as the avidity of the country people, to possess so great a curiosity, had spared, were firm and good; and a piece of new serge, worn by the woman, did not appear to have undergone any sensible change.

OTHER ENGLISH CURIOSITIES.

Having thus brought to a conclusion our details relative to the wonders of the peak, and the various and interesting natural curiosities there to be found, we subjoin a brief notice of several others, which have, in England, attracted the notice of travelers.

Among the extraordinary caverns to be found in the mountains of the north of England, may be reckoned Yordas cave, in the vale of Kingsland, in Yorkshire, which contains a subterraneous cascade. Whethercot cave, not far from Ingleton, is divided by an arch of limestones, passing under which is seen a large cascade falling from a hight of more than sixty feet. The length of this cave is about one hundred and eighty feet, and the breadth ninety.

There are also in various parts of England many remarkable springs, of which some are impregnated either with salt, (as that of Droitwich, in Worcestershire,) or sulphur, (as the famous well of Wigan, in Lancashire,) or bituminous matter, (as that at Pitchford, in Shropshire.) Others have a petrifying quality, as that near Lutterworth, in Leicestershire, and a dropping well in the West Riding of Yorkshire. And, finally, some ebb and flow, as that of the peak described above, and Laywell near Torbay, whose waters rise and fall several times in an hour. To these we may add that remarkable fountain near Richard’s Castle, in Herefordshire, commonly called Bone Well, which is generally full of small bones, like those of frogs or fishes, though often cleared out. At a cliff near Wigan, in Lancashire, is the famous burning well: the water is cold, neither has it any smell; yet so strong a vapor of sulphur issues out with the stream, that upon applying a light to it, the top of the water is covered with a flame, like that of burning spirits, which lasts several hours, and emits such a heat that meat may be boiled over it.

MOUNTAINS OF GREAT BRITAIN.

The British isles present many mountains of a bold and imposing character: when contrasted, however, with those which have been already described, they must be considered as comparatively diminutive.

BEN NEVIS.

The loftiest of these mountains is Ben Nevis, in Scotland, its elevation above the level of the sea being forty-three hundred and eighty feet, or somewhat more than four-fifths of a mile. It terminates in a point, and elevates its rugged front far above all the neighboring mountains. It is of easy ascent; and at the perpendicular hight of fifteen hundred feet, the vale beneath presents a very agreeable prospect, the vista being beautified by a diversity of bushes, shrubs, and birch woods, besides many little verdant spots. The sea and the shore are also seen.

At the summit, the view extends at once across the island, eastward toward the German sea, and westward to the Atlantic ocean. Nature here appears on a majestic scale and the vastness of the prospect engages the whole attention, at the same time the objects in view are of no common dimensions. Just over the opening of the sound, at the south-west corner of Mull, Colonsay rises out of the sea like a shade of mist, at the distance of more than ninety miles. Shuna and Lismore appear like small spots of rich verdure, and, though nearly thirty miles distant, seem quite under the spectator. The low parts of Jura can not be discerned, nor any part of Isla; far less the coast of Ireland, as has been asserted. Such is, however, the wide extent of view, that it extends one hundred and seventy miles from the horizon of the sea at the Murray frith, on the north-east, to the island of Colonsay, on the south-west.

On the north-east side of Ben Nevis is an almost perpendicular precipice, certainly not less than fourteen hundred feet in depth; probably more, as it appears to exceed the third part of the entire hight of the mountain. A stranger is astonished at the sight of this dreadful rock, which has a quantity of snow lodged in its bosom throughout the whole year. The sound of a stone thrown over the cliff to the bottom, can not be heard when it falls, so that it is impossible to ascertain in that way the hight of the precipice.

SNOWDON.

This is the loftiest of the Welch mountains, its elevation above the level of the sea being thirty-seven hundred and twenty feet, or nearly three-quarters of a mile. It is accessible on one side only, its flanks being in every other quarter precipitous. Its aspect soon convinces the spectator that he is not to look to the Alps alone, or to the rocky regions of Altai, bordering on Siberia, for romantic scenes of wildness, confusion and disorder. Snowdon presents them in all their rude and native majesty.

In the ascent, a narrow path not more than nine feet in width, leads along the margin of a frightful precipice of nearly fifteen hundred feet in extent, so perpendicular that it can not be approached without terror; while to the north of the summit nearest to the one the most elevated, a semi-amphitheater of precipitous rocks, also of a great hight, is seen; and, behind this summit, another semicircle of equal depth and extent. The loftiest summit here appears to descend in the form of a sharp ridge, and beneath it another appears, which, on account of its color, is called the Black Rock. From the upper part of the valley, one of these summits presents a grand, vertical, and very elevated point.

The bottom of each of the amphitheaters of rocks, thirteen in number, is occupied by a small lake of a circular form, and very deep. The one known by the name of Llyn Glass is remarkable for its green hue, derived from its being impregnated with copper, several mines of which line its borders. Than this mountain, nothing in the Alps can be more arid and desert, those regions alone excepted which are too lofty to admit of vegetation. Here there is not a tree, not even a shrub; small patches of verdure, which sheep can scarcely reach, are alone to be seen. Its summit, or highest peak, is a flat of about eighteen feet only in circumference. Thence may be seen a part of Ireland, a part of Scotland, Cumberland, Lancashire, Cheshire, all North Wales, the isle of Man, and the Irish and British seas, with innumerable lakes; while the whole island of Anglesea is displayed so distinctly, that, its flat uncultivated plains, bounded by the rich Parys mountain in the vicinity of Holyhead, may be descried as on a map.

CADER IDRIS.

To the south of Dolgellau, Cader Idris towers above the subject mountains, which seem to retire, to allow its base more room to stand, and to afford to their sovereign a better display. It stands on a broad rocky base, with a gradual ascent to its brow, when the peaks elevate themselves in a manner at once abrupt, picturesque and distinct. The point emphatically named Cader, appears to the eye below to be little superior in hight to the saddle; but the third point, or apex, which has a name expressive of its sterility, is neither equal in hight, nor in beauty, to the other two. On its loftiest peak a stone pillar has lately been erected, for the purpose of a trigonometrical survey.

Cader Idris is the commencement of a chain of primitive mountains, and is computed to be twenty-eight hundred and fifty feet above the green of Dolgellau, and thirty-five hundred and fifty feet, or nearly three-fourths of a mile above the level of the sea. It has been conjectured that at some remote period it was a volcano of immense magnitude.

The tract to the south of Cader Idris, as far as Talylyn and Malwydd, is peculiarly grand. High and rugged mountains of every possible form, close in on all sides, while huge masses of rock hang over, or lie scattered in misshapen fragments by the side of the road. To add to the effect of this scene, the river Difi forms one continued cataract for five or six miles, overflowing with the innumerable tributary torrents which precipitate themselves from the highest summits of the surrounding rocks; while, to crown the whole, the shady head of Cader Idris towers, the majestic sentinel of the group.

PENMAN-MAWR.

The county of Caernarvon, in which this mountain is situated, claims precedency over every other in Wales, for the loftiness of its mountains, and the multitude of the eminences, which in a curved and indented chain, occupy nearly the whole of its extent.

In proceeding from Conway to Bangor, by a route at once picturesque and romantic, and amid a scenery which varies at every step, Penman-mawr discloses to the traveler its bulky head. It protrudes itself into the sea, and exhibits a fine contrast to the fertility which it interrupts, by a rude view of gray weather-beaten stones and precipices. The passage over the mountain was formerly terrific; but the road has been latterly widened and secured, near the verge of the precipice, by a small wall about five feet in hight. It forms the most sublime terrace in the British isles, winding round the mountain on the edge of the abrupt cliff; while the vast impending rocks above, the roaring of the waves at a great distance below, and the frequent howling of the wind, all unite to fill the mind with solemnity and awe.

SKIDDAW.

This English mountain, which has an elevation of thirty-five hundred and thirty feet, or nearly three-fourths of a mile above the level of the sea, is situated in Cumberland. It is more remarkable on account of the scenery over which it presides, and which exceeds in beauty whatever the imagination can paint, than for those bold projections and that rugged majesty which might be expected, but which will be here sought in vain. Except at such a distance as smooths the embossed work of all these rich fabrics, and where its double summit makes it a distinguished object to mark and characterize a scene, it may be considered as a tame and inanimate object.

WHARNSIDE.

In some of the maps of Yorkshire, the hight of this mountain is greatly exaggerated, its elevation above the sea not being more than twenty-five hundred feet, or nearly half a mile. As it is situated in the midst of a vast amphitheater of hills, the prospect it affords is diversified with pleasing objects. On its summit are four or five small lakes, two of which are about nine hundred feet in length, and nearly the same in breadth. A thin seam of coal also occurs near the top, and another is said to correspond with it on the summit of the lofty Colm hill, on the opposite side of Dent dale. Numerous caves and other natural curiosities abound here, as well as on Pennigent, about six miles to the eastward of Ingleborough. These latter mountains do not possess any particular interest.

STROMBOLI.

Stromboli is the principal of the cluster of small islands, lying to the north of Sicily, named the Lipari isles, the whole of which contain volcanoes. At a distance, its form appears to be that of an exact cone, but on a closer examination it is found to be a mountain having two summits of different hights, the sides of which have been torn and shattered by craters. The most elevated summit, inclining to the south-west, is, agreeably to Spallanzani, about a mile in hight.

In this volcanic mountain, the effects of a constantly active fire are everywhere visible, heaping up, destroying, changing, and overturning every instant what itself has produced, and incessantly varying in its operations. At the distance of one hundred miles, the flames it emits are visible, whence it has been aptly denominated the light-house of that part of the Mediterranean sea.

From the more elevated summit, all the inner part of the burning crater, and the mode of its eruption, may be seen. It is placed about half-way up, on the north-west side of the mountain, and has a diameter not exceeding two hundred and fifty feet. Burning stones are thrown up at regular intervals of seven or eight minutes, ascending in somewhat diverging rays. While a portion of them roll down toward the sea, the greater part fall back into the crater; and these being again cast out by a subsequent eruption, are thus tossed about until they are broken and reduced to ashes. The volcano, however, constantly supplies others, and seems inexhaustible in this species of productions. Spallanzani affirms that, in the more violent eruptions, the ejected matter rises to the hight of half a mile, or even higher, many of the ignited stones being thrown above the highest summit of the mountain.

The erupted stones, which appear black in the day-time, have at night a deep red color, and sparkle like fire-works. Each explosion is accompanied by flames or smoke, the latter resembling clouds, in the lower part black, in the upper white and shining, and separating into globular and irregular forms. In particularly high winds from the south or south-east, the smoke spreads over every part of the island. Spallanzani observed this volcano on a particular night, when the latter of these winds blew with great violence. The clear sky exhibited the appearance of a beautiful aurora borealis over that part of the mountain on which the volcano is situated, and which from time to time became more red and brilliant, in proportion as the ignited stones were thrown to a greater hight. The violence of the convulsions depends on that of the wind.

The present crater has burned for more than a century, without any apparent change having taken place in its situation. The side from which the showers of ignited matter fall into the sea, is almost perpendicular, about half a mile broad at the bottom, and a mile in length, terminating above in a point. In rolling down, the lava raises the fine sand like a cloud of dust. While this was observed by Spallanzani, the volcano suddenly made an eruption. Numerous pieces of lava of a dark red color, and enveloped in smoke, were ejected from the top of the precipice, and thrown high into the air. A part of them fell on the declivity, and rolled down, the smaller preceded by the greater; after a few bounds, dashing into the sea, giving out a sharp hissing sound. The more minute fragments, from their lightness, and the hindrance of the sand, rolled slowly down, and striking against each other, produced nearly the same sound as hail-stones falling on a roof. In a few minutes another explosion followed, without any sensible noise; and two minutes after a third eruption took place, with a much louder explosion than the first, and a far more copious ejection of lava. The eruptions, which were almost innumerable during the time Spallanzani remained there, all exhibited the same appearances.

On the night following the one above described, the volcano raged with still greater violence, and rapidly hurled to a great hight, thousands of red-hot stones, forming diverging rays in the air. Those which rolled down the precipice, produced a hail of streaming fire, which illuminated the steep descent. Independently of these ignited stones, there was in the air which hovered over the volcano, a vivid light, which was not extinguished when that was at rest. It was not properly flame, but real light reverberated by the atmosphere, impregnated by extraneous particles, and more especially by the ascending smoke. Besides varying in intensity, it appeared constantly in motion, ascending, descending, dilating and contracting, but always remaining perpendicular over the mouth of the volcano, which showed that it was occasioned by the conflagration within the crater. The detonations in the greater eruptions resembled the roaring of distant thunder, and in the lesser ones, the explosions of a mine. In the smallest they were scarcely audible. Each was some seconds later than the ejection.

Near the mouth of the volcano is a small cavern, a projection above which secures it from the entrance of the ignited stones. From this cavern Spallanzani was enabled to look down into the very bowels of the volcano. He describes the edges of the crater as of a circular form, and not more than three hundred and forty feet in circumference, the internal sides contracting as they descend, and assuming the shape of a truncated inverted cone. The crater itself, to a certain hight, is filled with a liquid red-hot matter, resembling melted brass. This is the fluid lava, which appears to be agitated by two distinct motions, the one intestine, whirling and tumultuous, and the other that by which it is impelled upward. This liquid matter is raised, sometimes with more, and sometimes with less rapidity, within the crater; and when it has reached within twenty-five or thirty feet of the upper edge, a sound is heard not unlike a short clap of thunder, while at the same moment a portion of the lava, separated into a thousand pieces, is thrown up with indescribable swiftness, accompanied by a copious eruption of smoke, ashes and sand. A few moments before the report, the superficies of the lava is inflated and covered with large bubbles, some of which are several feet in diameter; on the bursting of these the detonation and fiery shower take place. After the explosion, the lava within the crater sinks, but soon rises again as before, and new bubbles appear, which again burst and produce new explosions. When the lava sinks, it gives little or no sound; but when it rises, and particularly when it begins to be inflated with bubbles, it is accompanied by a noise similar, in proportion to the difference of magnitude, to that of liquor boiling vehemently in a caldron.

LIPARI.

This island, which has given name to the whole cluster, is deserving of notice on account of its celebrated “stoves.” They are the only vestiges of subterraneous conflagration now remaining, and lie to the west of the city, on the summit of a mountain of considerable elevation, called Monte della Stufe, the Mountain of Stoves. They consist of five excavations, in the form of grottos; but two of them have been abandoned on account of the great heat, an exposure to which might cause suffocation. Even the stones are so hot that they can not be touched; but still the heat varies, and experiences all the vicissitudes of volcanoes. The ground is not penetrated with hot vapors issuing from several apertures, as has been asserted. Spallanzani, however, found one from which a thin stream of smoke issued from time to time, with a strong sulphureous smell, indicating the remains of conflagration existing beneath.

It is impossible to fix the exact epoch at which the fires of Lipari were extinguished, or rather the period at which the eruptions ceased, for the existence of the former may be deduced from the hot springs and stoves. Dolomieu thinks the last eruptions are as old as the sixth century of the Christian era, and conjectures that they may have ceased since the fires found a new vent in Vulcano, since he does not entertain any doubt but that the two islands have a subterraneous communication. Of this the inhabitants of Lipari are so well convinced, that they are in the greatest agitation when Vulcano does not smoke, and when its passages are obstructed. They fear shocks and violent eruptions, suspecting even that the fires may again break out in their island. It is a fact that the earthquakes, which are very frequent, generally cease when the eruptions of Vulcano commence.

VULCANO.

This, which is the last of the Lipari isles, bears in every part the stamp of fire. It was the superstitious belief of the ancient inhabitants that Vulcan had here established his forges, there being constant fires during the night, and a thick smoke throughout the day. It consists of a mountain in the form of a truncated cone, which is, however, merely a case opening and exposing to view a second cone within, more exact than the other, and in which the mouth of the volcano is placed. The latter is thus enveloped on three sides by the ancient cone, and is open only on that side which is immediately washed by the sea.

The base of the interior cone is separated from the steep sides of the ancient crater by a circular valley, which terminates on one side at the junction of the two mountains, and on the other sinks into the sea. In this valley, light pumice-stones are blended with fragments of black, vitreous lava, and buried in ashes perfectly white. The blow of a hammer on these stones produces a loud hollow sound, which reëchoes in the neighboring caverns, and proves that the surface is nothing more than the arch of a vault covering an immense abyss. The sound varies according to the thickness of the crust, which must have considerable solidity to support the weight of the new mountain. This, according to Dolomieu, is higher and steeper than the cone which contains the crater of Etna, and its access still more difficult; its perpendicular hight, however, is not more than twenty-six hundred and forty feet, or half a mile. He represents the crater of Vulcano as the most magnificent he ever saw; and Spallanzani observes that, with the exception of that of Etna, he does not know of any more capacious and majestic. It exceeds a mile in circuit, has an oval mouth, and its greatest diameter is from the south-east to the west, while its depth is not more than a quarter of a mile. The bottom is flat, and from many places streams of smoke exhale, emitting a strong sulphureous vapor. This vast cavity is very regular, and as its entire contents are displayed to the eye, presents one of the grandest and most imposing spectacles in nature. On large stones being rolled down, the mountain reëchoes; and on their reaching the bottom, they appear to sink in fluid. Indeed, with the aid of a glass, two small lakes, supposed to be filled with melted sulphur, have been discovered. The declivity of the interior walls is so great, that, even when there is not any danger from fire, the descent is next to impossible. After considerable difficulty, however, this was accomplished by Spallanzani on the south-east side, the only one accessible. He found the bottom to be somewhat more than one-third of a mile in circumference, and of an oval form. The subterraneous noise was here much louder than on the summit, sounding like an impetuous river foaming beneath, or, rather, like a conflict of agitated waves meeting and clashing furiously together. The ground was likewise in some places perforated with apertures, from which hissing sounds issued, resembling those produced by the bellows of a furnace. It shook when pressed by the feet; and a large piece of lava, let fall five or six feet, produced a subterraneous echoing sound, which continued some time, and was loudest in the center. These circumstances, combined with its burning heat, and the strong stench of sulphur it emits, prove that the fires of the volcano are still active.

Its eruptions have been most considerable during the earthquakes which have desolated Sicily and a greater part of Italy. In the month of March, 1786, after subterraneous thunders and roarings, which were heard over all the islands, to the great terror of the inhabitants, and were accompanied by frequent concussions, the crater threw out a prodigious quantity of sand, mixed with immense volumes of smoke and fire. This eruption continued fifteen days, and so great was the quantity of sand ejected that the circumjacent places were entirely covered with it to a considerable hight. The lava did not flow at the time, at least over the edges of the crater; and indeed, such a current is not remembered by any living person.

THE HIMALAYA MOUNTAINS. BETWEEN INDIA AND THIBET.

“The great Himalayan snowy range,” says Mr. Fraser, “is only the high elevated crest of the mountainous tract that divides the plains of Hindoostan from those of Thibet, or Lesser Tartary. Far as they predominate over, and precipitously as they rear themselves above the rest, all the hills that appear in distant ranges, when viewed from the plains, are indeed only the roots and branches of this great stem; and, however difficult to trace, the connection can always be detected between each inferior mountain and some particular member of its great origin.

“The horizontal depth of this mountainous tract, on that side which overlooks Hindoostan, is no doubt various; but, from the difficulty of the country, a traveler performs a journey of many days before he reaches the foot of the immediate snowy cliffs. The best observations and surveys do not authorize the allowance of more than an average depth of about sixty miles from the plains to the commencement of these, in that part of the country that forms the subject of this narrative. The breadth of the snowy zone itself in all probability varies still more; for huge masses advance in some places into the lower districts, and in others the crest recedes in long ravines, that are the beds of torrents, while behind they are clothed by a succession of the loftier cliffs. Every account we receive of a passage through them, (and this is no doubt found most commonly where the belt is narrowest,) gives a detail of many days’ journey through the deserts of snow and rocks; and it is to be inferred, that on the north-east side they advance to, and retreat from the low ground in an equally irregular manner. Indeed, some accounts would induce the belief, that long ranges, crowned with snow-clad peaks, project in various places from the great spine, and include habitable and milder districts; for, in all the routes of which we have accounts, that proceed, in various directions toward the Trans-Himalayan countries, hills covered with snow are occasionally mentioned as occurring, even after the great deserts are passed, and the grazing country entered. The breadth, then, of this crest of snow-clad rock itself, can not fairly be estimated at less than from seventy to eighty miles.

“The great snowy belt, although its loftiest crest is broken into numberless cliffs and ravines, nevertheless presents a barrier perfectly impracticable, except in those places where hollows that become the beds of rivers have in some degree intersected it, and facilitated approach to its more remote recesses, or courageous and attentive perseverance has here and there, discovered a dangerous and difficult path, by which a possibility exists of penetrating across the range. Few rivers hold their course wholly through it: indeed, in the upper part the Sutlej alone has been traced beyond this rocky barrier; and there is a path along its stream, from different parts of which roads diverge, that lead in various directions through the mountain. No reasonable doubt can now exist of the very long and extraordinary course which this river takes.

“Captain Webb of the Bengal establishment, was at one time employed on a survey of a province of Kumaoon. On the twenty-first day of June, his camp was eleven thousand, six hundred and eighty feet above Calcutta. The surface was covered with very rich vegetation as high as the knee; there were very extensive beds of strawberries in full flower; and plenty of currant-bushes in blossom all around, in a clear spot of rich black mold soil, surrounded by a noble forest of pine, oak and rhododendron. On the twenty-second of June he reached the top of Pilgoenta-Churhaee, (or ascent,) twelve thousand, six hundred and forty-two feet above Calcutta. He was prevented from distinguishing very distant objects by a dense fog; but there was not the smallest patch of snow near him; and the surface, a fat black mold through which the rock peeped, was covered with strawberry plants, (not yet in flower,) butter-cups, dandelions, and a profusion of other flowers. The shoulders of the hill above him, about four hundred and fifty feet more elevated, were covered with the same to the top; and above five hundred feet below was a forest of pine, rhododendron and birch. There was some snow seen below in deep hollows, but it dissolves in the course of the season. These facts led Captain Webb to infer, that the inferior limit of perpetual congelation on the Himalaya mountains is beyond thirteen thousand, five hundred feet, at least, above the level of Calcutta: and that the level of the table-land of Tartary, immediately bordering on their range, is very far elevated beyond eight thousand feet, the hight at which it has been estimated.

“On the night of the sixteenth of July, we slept at Bheemkeudar, near the source of the Coonoo and Bheem streams. There is no wood near this place, even in the very bottom of the valley, and we had left even the stunted birch at a considerable distance below; but there was a profusion of flowers, ferns, thistles, &c., and luxuriant pasturage. Captain Webb’s limit of wood is at least as high as twelve thousand to twelve thousand, three hundred feet. I would, therefore, presume the site of Bheemkeudar to be considerably above that level; say thirteen thousand to thirteen thousand, three hundred feet, above the level of Calcutta. From thence we ascended at first rather gradually, and then very rapidly, till we left all luxuriant vegetation, and entered the region of stripped and scattered and partially melting snow. From calculating the distance passed, and adverting to the elevation we had attained, I would presume that this was at least fifteen hundred feet above Bheemkeudar, or from fourteen thousand, five hundred, to fifteen thousand feet above Calcutta.

“We proceeded onward, ascending very rapidly, while vegetation decreased gradually to a mere green moss, with here and there a few snow-flowers starting through it; snow fast increasing, till at length we entered on what I presume was the perennial and unmelting snow, entirely beyond the line of vegetation, where the rock was bare even of lichens: and in this we ascended, as I think, about eight hundred feet; for, though Bamsooroo Ghat may not be so far above this line, we continued ascending, even after crossing that point, and I would incline to estimate this utmost extent of ascent at two thousand feet more, or nearly seventeen thousand feet above the level of Calcutta.

“Whilst proposing to consider the point of sixteen thousand to sixteen thousand, five hundred feet, as that of inferior congelation, I must observe that there was no feeling of frost in the air, and the snow was moist, though hard, chiefly through the influence of a thick mist, which, in fact, amounted to a very small drizzling rain, which fell around: all which would seem to indicate, that the true line of congelation had not there been attained; but we were surrounded by snow which evidently never melted. To a great depth below it extended all over the hills, very little broken, while on the valleys from whence the Coonoo and Bheem streams issue, at full two thousand feet below, it lay covering them and the surrounding mountains in an unbroken mass, many hundred feet thick. Thus, though it may seem contradictory, the line of perpetual congelation, in fact seems fixable at even below the point I have ventured to indicate, and, I presume, might, on these grounds, be placed somewhere between fifteen and sixteen thousand feet above the level of Calcutta.

“The result of all the considerations that arise out of the foregoing remarks is a belief, that the loftiest peaks of the Himalaya range will be found to fall considerably short of the hight attributed to them by Mr. Colebrooke; and that their loftiest peaks do not more than range from eighteen thousand to twenty-two or twenty-three thousand feet above the level of the sea.

“Having reached the top of an ascent, we looked down upon a very deep and dark glen, called Palia Gadh, which is the outlet to the waters of one of the most terrific and gloomy valleys I have ever seen. But it would not be easy to convey by any description a just idea of the peculiarly rugged and gloomy wildness of this glen: it looks like the ruins of nature, and appears, as it is said to be, completely impracticable and impenetrable. Little is to be seen except dark rock: wood only fringes the lower parts and the waters’ edge: perhaps the spots and streaks of snow, contrasting with the general blackness of the scene, highten the appearance of desolation. No living thing is seen; no motion is visible but that of the waters; no sound is heard but their roar. Such a spot is suited to engender superstition, and here it is accordingly found in full growth. Many wild traditions are preserved, and many extravagant stories related of it.

“The glen above described, is by far the most gloomy, savage scene we have yet met with. I regret that the weather did not permit a sketch of it to be attempted. Beyond this we could see nothing in the course of the river but rocky banks. The opposite side is particularly precipitous; yet along its face a road is carried, which is frequented as much as this, and leads to villages still farther up. By the time we had reached the village, the clouds which had lowered around and sunk down on the hills, began to burst with loud thunder and heavy rain. The noise was fearfully reverberated among the hills; and during the night more than once the sound was heard of fragments from the brows of the mountains, crashing down to the depths below with a terrific din. Our quarters were good. I slept in a temple, neat, clean and secure from the weather.”

GUNGOTREE, THE SOURCE OF THE JUMNA, A BRANCH OF THE GANGES, IN THE HIMALAYA MOUNTAINS.

Gungotree, the source of the Jumna, represented in the cut below, the most sacred branch of the Ganges, ought to hold, and does hold the first rank among its holy places. Here all is mythological ground. Here Mahadeo sits enthroned in clouds and mist, amid rocks that defy the approach of living thing, and snows that make desolation more awful. Gods, goddesses and saints here continually adore him at mysterious distance, and you traverse their familiar haunts. But, although Gungotree be the most sacred, it is not the most frequented shrine, access to it being far more difficult than to Buddrinauth; and consequently to this latter, pilgrims flock in crowds, appalled at the remoteness and danger of the former place of worship. This may pretty fully account for the superior riches and splendor of Buddrinauth. Here are temples of considerable extent, priests and officials in abundance, who preserve an imposing exterior, and an appearance venerable from power and comparative magnificence, and consequently procure rich and ample offerings to keep up their comfortable dignity.

The temple of Bhadrinath, is situated on the west bank of the Alackunda, in a valley four miles long, and one mile in its greatest breadth. The east bank rises considerably higher than the west bank, and is on a level with the top of the temple. The position of the sanctuary is considered equidistant from two lofty mountains, which are designated by the names of the Nar and the Narayena Purvatas. The former is to the east, the latter to the west, and completely covered with snow from the summit to the base.

The temple of Bhadri-Nath has more beneficed lands attached to it than any sacred Hindoo establishment in this part of India. It is said to possess seven hundred villages in different parts of Gurwhal and Kumaoon: many of them have been conferred by the government; others have been given in pledge for loans; and some few, purchased by individuals, have been presented as religious offerings.

The annual ceremony of carrying the images of their gods to wash in the sacred stream of the Jumna, is, it appears, one of much solemnity among the inhabitants of the neighborhood; and the concourse of people that here assemble, are busily engaged, and continue to be fully occupied in doing honor to it. They dance to the sound of strange music, and intoxicate themselves with a sort of vile spirit, brewed from grain and particular roots, sometimes, it is said, sharpened by pepper. The dance is most grotesque and savage; a multitude of men taking hands sometimes in a circle, sometimes in a line, beating time with their feet, bend with one accord, first nearly to the earth with their faces, then backward, and then sidewise, with various wild contortions. These, and their uncouth dress of black and gray blankets, give a peculiar air of brutal ferocity to the assemblage. The men dance all day, and in the evening they are joined by the women, who mix indiscriminately with them, and keep up dancing and intoxication till the night is far advanced. They continue this frantic kind of worship for several days; and, in truth, it is much in unison with their general manners and habits, savage and inconsistent. At a place so sacred, the residence of so many Brahmins, and the resort of so many pilgrims, we might expect to find a strict attention to the forms of religion, and a scrupulous observance of the privations and austerities enjoined by it. So far, however, is this from the truth, that much is met with, shocking even to those Hindoos who are less bigoted.

“There were several points to be arranged,” says Mr. Fraser, “before we could set off for Gungotree, the source of the Jumna. I did not deem it proper to go unarmed; but agreed that only five men should be accoutered to attend us, and that I should myself carry my gun. But all these weapons of war were to be put aside before we got within sight of the holy spot, and deposited in a cave near it, under a guard. I also pledged myself that no use should be made of these instruments, nor any life sacrificed for the purpose of food, either by myself or by any of my people, after leaving the village, until we returned; moreover, that I would not even carry meat of any sort, dead or alive, along with me, but eat only rice and bread. As to the putting off my shoes, they did not even propose it to me, and it could not have been done; but I volunteered to put them off, when entering into the precincts of the temple and holier places, which pleased them greatly. All the Hindoos, including the Ghoorkhas, went from the village barefoot.

“Just at the end of the bridge there is an overhanging rock, under which worship is performed to Bhyram, and a black stone partly painted red, is the image of the god; and here not only were prayers and worship performed, but every one was obliged to bathe and eat bread baked by the Brahmins, as preparatory to the great and effectual ablutions at the holier Gungotree. This occupied a considerable time, as the party was numerous: in the mean time I took a very imperfect sketch of the scene, after which I bathed myself at the proper place, which is the junction of the two streams, while the Brahmin prayed over me. Among the ceremonies performed, he made me hold a tuft of grass while he prayed, which at the conclusion he directed me to throw into the eddy occasioned by the meeting of the two waters.

“By an unpleasant path we reached a step, or level spot on the first stage of the mountain, where, in a thick grove of fir-trees, is placed a small temple to Bhyram, a plain white building, built by order of Umur Sing T’happa, who gave a sum of money to repair the road, and erect places of worship here, and at Gungotree. Having paid our respects to Byramjee, we proceeded along the side of the hill on the right bank, north of the river, gradually ascending by a path equally difficult and dangerous as the first part of our ascent, but more fearful, as the precipice to the river, which rolls below us, increases in hight, and exceedingly toilsome from the nature of the ground over which it passes, and which consists wholly of sharp fragments from the cliffs above, with fallen trunks and broken branches of trees.

“The path increases in difficulty from the very irregular nature of the ground, as well as the steepness of the hill face across which it leads, ascending and descending as the small, though deep water-courses furrow the mountain side, in loose soil, formed of small fragments fallen from above, and which slip down, threatening to carry the traveler to the gulf below. The shapeless blocks of rock now more completely obstruct the way, and for hundreds of yards, at times, the passenger must clamber over these masses, heaped as they are one upon another, in monstrous confusion, and so uncertain and unsteady, that, huge though they are, they shake and move even under the burden of a man’s weight. So painful indeed is this track, that it might be conceived as meant to serve as a penance to the unfortunate pilgrims with bare feet, thus to prepare them for the special and conclusive act of piety they have in view, as the object of their journey to these extreme wilds.

“The spot which bears the name of Gungotree, is concealed by the roughness of the ground, and the masses of fallen rock, so as not to be seen till the traveler comes close upon it. The temple is situated precisely on the sacred stone on which Bhagirutte used to worship Mahadeo, and is a small building of a square shape for about twelve feet high, and rounding in, in the usual form of pagodas, to the top. It is quite plain, painted white, with red moldings, and surmounted with the usual melon-shaped ornaments of these buildings. From the eastern face of the square, which is turned nearly to the sacred source, there is a small projection covered with a stone roof, in which is the entrance facing the east, and just opposite this there is a small pagoda-shaped temple to Bhyramjee. The whole is surrounded by a wall of unhewn stone and lime, and the space this contains is paved with flat stones. In this space too, there is a comfortable but small house for the residence of the Brahmins who come to officiate. Without the inclosure there are two or three sheds constructed of wood, called dhurum sallahs, built for the accommodation of pilgrims who resort here; and there are many caves around formed by overhanging stones, which yield a shelter to those who can not find accommodation in the sheds.

“The scene in which this holy place is situated, is worthy of the mysterious sanctity attributed to it, and the reverence with which it is regarded. We have not here the confined gloominess of Bhyram Gattee: the actual dread which can not but be inspired by the precipices and torrents, and perils of the place, here gives way to a sensation of awe, imposing but not embarrassing, that might be compared to the dark and dangerous pass to the center of the ruins of a former world; for, most truly, there is little here that recalls the recollection of that which we seem to have quitted. The bare and peaked cliffs which shoot to the skies, yield not in ruggedness or elevation to any we have seen; their ruins lie in wild chaotic masses at their feet, and scantier wood imperfectly relieves their nakedness: even the dark pine more rarely roots itself in the deep chasms which time has worn. Thus on all sides is the prospect closed, except in front to the eastward; where, from behind a mass of bare spires, four huge, lofty, snowy peaks arise: these are the peaks of Roodroo-Himala. There could be no finer finishing, no grander close to such a scene, as is visible in the engraving.

“We approach it through a labyrinth of enormous shapeless masses of granite, which during ages have fallen from the cliffs above, that frown over the very temple, and in all probability will some day themselves descend in ruins and crush it. Around the inclosure, and among these masses, for some distance up the mountain, a few fine old pine-trees throw a dark shade and form a magnificent foreground; while the river runs impetuously in its shingly bed, and the stifled but fearful sound of the stones which it rolls along with it, crushing together, mixes with the roar of its waters.

“It is easy to write of rocks and wilds, of torrents and precipices; it is easy to tell of the awe such scenes inspire: this style and these descriptions are common and hackneyed. But it is not so simple, to many surely not very possible, to convey an adequate idea of the stern and rugged majesty of some scenes; to paint their lonely desertness, or describe the undefinable sensation of reverence and dread that steals over the mind while contemplating the death-like, ghastly calm that is shed over them: and when at such a moment we remember our homes, our friends, our firesides, and all social intercourse with our fellows, and feel our present solitude, and far distance from all these dear ties, how vain it is to strive at description! Surely such a scene is Gungotree. [See cut, page 109.] Nor is it, independently of the nature of the surrounding scenery, a spot which lightly calls forth powerful feelings. We were now in the center of the stupendous Himalaya, the loftiest and perhaps most rugged range of mountains in the world. We were at the acknowledged source of that noble river, which is equally an object of veneration and a source of fertility, plenty and opulence to Hindoostan; and we had now reached the holiest shrine of Hindoo worship which these holy hills contain. These are surely striking considerations, combining with the solemn grandeur of the place, to move the feelings strongly.

“The fortuitous circumstance of being the first European that ever penetrated to this spot, was no matter of boast, for no great danger had been braved, no extraordinary fatigues undergone; the road is now open to any other who chooses to attempt it; but it was a matter of satisfaction to myself. The first object of inquiry that naturally occurs to the traveler, after casting a glance over the general landscape, is the source of the river. Here, as at Jumnotree, you are told that no mortal has gone, or can go further toward its extreme origin than this spot; and the difficulty is indeed very apparent. I made a trial to gain a point about two furlongs beyond the temple, both for the purpose of observing the course of the river, and of seeing Gungotree in another point of view. But having with considerable difficulty made my way over the unsteady fragments for some hundred yards, at the risk of being precipitated into the stream, I was forced to turn back.

“The source is not more than five miles’ horizontal distance from the temple, and in a direction south-east, eighty-five degrees nearly; and beyond this place it is in all probability chiefly supplied by the melting of the great bosom of snow which terminates the valley, and which lies between the peaks of the great mountain above mentioned.

“This mountain, which is considered to be the loftiest and greatest of the snowy range in this quarter, and probably yields to none in the whole Himalaya, obtains the name of Roodroo Himala, and is held to be the throne or residence of Mahadeo himself. It is also indiscriminately called Pauch Purbut, from its five peaks, and Soomeroo Purbot, which is not to be confounded with the mountain so called near Bunderbouch; and sometimes the general appellation of Kylas is given, which literally signifies any snowy hill, but is applied to this mountain by way of preëminence. It has five principal peaks, called Roodroo Himala, Burrumpooree, Bissenpooree, Oodgurre Kanta and Soorga Rounee. These form a sort of semicircular hollow of very considerable extent, filled with eternal snow, from the gradual dissolution of the lower parts of which the principal part of the stream is generated: probably there may be smaller hollows beyond the point to the right above Gungotree, which also supply a portion.

“Within the temple there are three images; one, that of Kali; and the elevated stone shelf on which they were placed was wet and soiled with the offerings made; there was a peculiar smell, but I know not whence it proceeded. The place, as usual, was lighted by a small lamp: no daylight had admittance. Just below the temple, on the river side, grew three poplar trees, and a few small larches; above there are the remains of a fine old silver fir-tree, which overshadows some of the caves and sheds. The whole people also bathed, and contributed something to the priesthood; and it was a matter of serious importance, as well as of great joy to every one, that we had thus happily reached a place of such supereminent sanctity: such, indeed, that the act of bathing here is supposed to cleanse from every sin heretofore committed, and the difficulty of which is so great, that few, except professional devotees, ever attempt reaching the holy place.

“It is customary that those who have lost their father and mother, or either of these, shall be shaved at this spot; and it was curious to observe the whimsical changes produced by the operation, which numbers underwent. It appears also, that one chief ordinance was the going frequently round the holy temple; and we particularly observed that those who were noted as the greatest rogues were most forward in this pious exercise: one man, in particular, who had been a notorious thief, was unwearied in his perseverance.

“Well, indeed, do they say, that Seeva has made these recesses which he inhabits, inaccessible to all but those whom true devotion leads to his shrine. That man must have been indeed strongly impelled by devotion, ambition, or curiosity, who first explored the way to Gungotree. It were unavailing to inquire, and perhaps of little use, if known, to which of these motives we owe the enterprise; but patience, perseverance, and courage, must have been strongly united with it to lead him safely and successfully through those awful cliffs, that would bar the way to most men. Another omen of favor pointed out was, the increase of the river after bathing, as at Jumnotree; and it is singular enough, that during the time we remained here, I remarked several increases and decreases of the water, without any obvious causes; but these may fairly be referred to the effects of sudden changes of temperature occurring frequently among the hills, and acting on the body of snow that feeds the river.”

ASIATIC VOLCANOES.

Among the Asiatic burning mountains, a brief account of which we introduce after the above interesting notice of the grand Himalaya chain, those of Japan are both remarkable and numerous. On the summit of a mountain in the province of Figo, is a large cavern, formerly the mouth of a volcano, but the flame of which has ceased, probably for want of combustible matter. In the same province, near a religious structure called the Temple of the Jealous God of Aso, a perpetual flame issues from the top of a mountain. In the province of Tsickusen is another burning mountain, where was formerly a coal-pit, which having been set on fire by the carelessness of the workmen, has been burning ever since. Sometimes a black smoke, accompanied by a very disagreeable stench, is observed to issue from the summit of a famous mountain called Fesi, in the province of Seruga. This mountain is said to be nearly as high as the peak of Teneriffe, but in shape and beauty is supposed not to have an equal. Its top is covered with perpetual snow. Belonging to the Japanese cluster, and not far from Piranda, is a small rocky island, which has been burning and trembling for many centuries; and in another small island, opposite to Santzuma, is a volcano which has been burning at different intervals for many ages.

Captain Gore, when leaving Japan, passed by great quantities of pumice-stone, several pieces of which were taken up, and found to weigh from one ounce to three pounds. It was conjectured that these stones had been thrown into the sea by eruptions at various times, as many of them were covered by barnacles (small shells) and others were quite bare.

VOLCANIC MOUNTAINS OF KAMTSCHATKA.

There are three burning mountains of Kamtschatka, which for many years have thrown out a considerable smoke, but do not often burst into a flame. One of these is situated in the vicinity of Awatska; and another, named the volcano of Tolbatchiek, on a neck of land between the river Kamtschatka and the Tolbatchiek. In the beginning of the year 1739, the flames issued with such violence from the crater, as to reduce to ashes the forests on the neighboring mountains. This was succeeded by a cloud of smoke, which overspread and darkened the whole country, until it was dissipated by a shower of cinders, which covered the ground to the distance of thirty miles. The third volcano is on the top of the particular mountain of Kamtschatka, which is described as by far the highest in the peninsula. It rises from two rows of hills, somewhat in the form of a sugar-loaf, to a very great hight. It usually throws out ashes twice or thrice a year, sometimes in such quantities, that for three hundred versts, (one hundred and sixty-five English miles,) the earth is covered with them. In the year 1737, at the latter end of September, a conflagration, which lasted for a week, was so violent and terrific, that the mountain appeared, to those who were fishing at sea, like one red-hot rock; and the flames which burst through several openings, with a dreadful noise, resembled rivers of fire. From the inside of the mountains were heard thunderings, crackings, and blasts like those of the strongest bellows, shaking all the neighboring territory. During the night it was most terrible; but at length the conflagration ended by the mountain’s casting forth a prodigious quantity of cinders and ashes, among which were porous stones, and glass of various colors. When Captain Clarke sailed out of the harbor of St. Peter and St. Paul, in June, 1778, to the northward, an eruption of the first of these volcanoes was observed. A rumbling noise, resembling distant hollow thunder, was heard before daylight; and when the day broke, the decks and sides of the ships were covered with a fine dust, resembling emery, nearly an inch thick, the air at the same time being charged with this substance to such a degree, that toward the mountain, which is situated to the north of the harbor, the surrounding objects were not to be distinguished. About twelve o’clock, and during the afternoon, the explosions became louder, and were followed by showers of cinders, which were in general about the size of peas, though many were picked up on the deck larger than a hazel-nut. Along with the cinders fell several small stones which had not undergone any change from the action of fire.

VOLCANIC MOUNTAIN OF ALBAY.

The following details of the dreadful eruption of the volcano of Albay, in the island of Luconia, one of the Philippines, on the first of February, 1814, are from an eye-witness of the dreadful scenes it presented.

“During thirteen years the volcano of Albay had preserved a profound silence. It was no longer viewed with that distrust and horror with which volcanoes usually inspire those who inhabit the vicinity. Its extensive and spacious brow had been converted into highly cultivated and beautiful gardens. On the first day of January last, no person reflected, in the slightest degree, upon the damages and losses which so bad a neighbor had once occasioned. Previously to the former eruptions there had been heard certain subterraneous sounds, which were presages of them. But upon the present occasion we remarked nothing, except that on the last day of January we perceived some slight shocks. In the night the shocks increased. At two in the morning one was felt more violent than those hitherto experienced. It was repeated at four, and from that time they were almost continual until the eruption commenced.

“The day broke, and I scarcely ever remarked in Camarines a more serene and pleasant morning. I observed, however, that the ridges nearest to the volcano were covered with mist, which I supposed to be the smoke of some house that might have been on fire in the night. But at eight o’clock the volcano began suddenly to emit a thick column of stones, sand, and ashes, which with the greatest velocity, was elevated into the highest regions of the atmosphere. At this sight we were filled with the utmost dread, especially when we observed that in an instant the brow of the volcano was quite covered. We had never seen a similar eruption, but were convinced that a river of fire was flowing toward us, and was about to consume us. The first thing which was done in my village was to secure some things esteemed sacred, and then we betook ourselves to flight. The swiftness with which the dreadful tide rolled toward us, did not give us time either for reflection or consultation. The frightful noise of the volcano caused great terror even in the stoutest hearts. We all ran, filled with dismay and consternation, endeavoring to reach the highest and most distant places, to preserve ourselves from so imminent a danger. The horizon began to darken, and our anxieties redoubled. The noise of the volcano continually increased, the darkness augmented, and we continued our flight. But, notwithstanding our swiftness, we were overtaken by a heavy shower of huge stones, by the violence of which many unfortunate persons were in a moment killed. This cruel circumstance obliged us to make a pause in our career, and to shelter ourselves under the houses; but the flames and burnt stones which fell from above, in a short time reduced them to ashes.

“The sky was now completely overcast, and we remained enveloped and immersed in a thick and palpable darkness. From that moment reflection was at an end. The mother abandoned her children, the husband his wife, and the children forgot their parents.

“In the houses we had no longer any shelter. It was necessary to abandon, or perish with them; yet, to go out uncovered, was to expose one’s self to a danger not less imminent, because many of the stones were of an enormous size; and they fell as thick as drops of rain. It was necessary to defend ourselves as well as we could. Some covered themselves with hides, others with tables and chairs, and others with boards and tea-trays. Many took refuge in the trunks of trees, others among the canes and hedges, and some hid themselves in a cave, where the brow of a mountain protected them.

“About ten o’clock the heavy stones ceased to fall, and a rain of thick sand succeeded. At half past one the noise of the volcano began to diminish, and the horizon to clear a little; and at two it became quite tranquil; and we now began to perceive the dreadful ravages which the darkness had hitherto concealed from us. The ground was covered with dead bodies, part of whom had been killed by the stones, and the others consumed by the fire. Two hundred perished in the church of Budiao, and thirty-five in a single house in that village. The joy the living felt at having preserved themselves, was in many converted into the extremity of sorrow at finding themselves deprived of their relations and friends. Fathers found their children dead, husbands their wives, and wives their husbands, in the village of Budiao, where there were very few who had not lost some of their nearest connections. In other places we found many persons extended upon the ground, wounded or bruised in a thousand ways. Some with their legs broken, some without arms, some with their skulls fractured, and others covered with wounds. Many died immediately, others on the following days, and the rest were abandoned to the most melancholy fate, without physicians, without medicines, and in want even of necessary food.

“Five populous towns were entirely destroyed by the eruption; more than twelve hundred of the inhabitants perished amidst the ruins; and twenty thousand who survived the awful catastrophe, were stripped of their possessions and reduced to beggary.

“The subsequent appearance of the volcanic mountain was most melancholy and terrific. Its side, formerly so well cultivated, and which afforded a prospect the most picturesque, is now become a barren sand. The stones, sand and ashes, which cover it, in some places exceed the depth of ten and twelve yards; and on the ground where lately stood the village of Budiao, there are spots in which the cocoa-trees are almost covered. In the ruined villages, and through the whole extent of the eruption, the ground remains buried in the sand to the depth of half a yard, and scarcely a single tree is left alive. The crater of the volcano has lowered more than one hundred and twenty feet; and the south side discovers a spacious and horrid mouth, which is frightful to the view. Three new ones have opened at a considerable distance from the principal crater, through which also smoke and ashes are incessantly emitted. In short, the most beautiful villages of Camarines, and the principal part of that fine province, are deeply covered with barren sand.”

ISLANDS WHICH HAVE RISEN FROM THE SEA.

Besides the convulsions of nature displayed in volcanoes, the most remarkable particulars of which we have given in our history of mountains, other operations are carried on below the fathomless depths of the sea, the nature of which can only be conjectured by the effects produced. Nor is it more astonishing that inflammable substances should be found beneath the bottom of the sea, than at similar depths on land, and that there also the impetuous force of fire should cause the imprisoned air and elastic gases to expand, and, by its mighty force, should drive the earth at the bottom of the sea above its surface. These marine volcanoes are perhaps more frequent, though they do not so often come within the reach of human observation, as those on land; and stupendous must be the operations carried on, when matter is thrown up to an extent which the ingenuity of man does not enable him to reach by fathoming.

Many instances have occurred, as well in ancient as in modern times, of islands having been formed in the midst of the sea; and their sudden appearance has constantly been preceded by violent agitations of the surrounding waters, accompanied by dreadful noises, and in some instances by fiery eruptions from the newly formed isles, which are composed of various substances, frequently intermixed with a considerable quantity of volcanic lava. Such islands remain for ages barren, but in a long course of time become abundantly fruitful. It is a matter of curious inquiry, whether springs are found on such newly created spots, when the convulsions which gave them birth have subsided; but on this point it would seem that we are not possessed of any certain information, as it does not appear that they have been visited by any naturalist with the express view of recording their properties.

Among the writers of antiquity who have transmitted accounts of islands which have thus started up to the view of the astonished spectator, Seneca asserts that, in his time, the island of Therasea, in the Egean sea, was seen to rise in this manner by several mariners, who were sailing near the point of its ascent. Pliny’s relation is still more extraordinary; for he says that in the Mediterranean, thirteen islands emerged at once from the sea, the cause of which he ascribes rather to the retiring of the waters, than to any subterraneous operation of nature: but he speaks at the same time of the island of Hiera, in the vicinity of Therasea, as having been formed by subterraneous explosions, and enumerates several others said to have been derived from a similar origin, in one of which he says, a great abundance of fishes were found, of which, however, all who ate, perished soon afterward.

It is to the Grecian archipelago, and the Azores, or Western isles, that we are to look for the grandest and most surprising instances of this phenomenon. We will select an example from each of these groups of islands, beginning with the latter.

In December, 1720, a violent earthquake was felt on the island of Tercera, one of the Azores. And on the following morning, a new island, which had sprung up in the night, made its appearance, and a huge column of smoke was seen rising from it. The pilot of a ship which attempted to approach it, sounded on one of these newly formed islands, with a line of sixty fathoms, but could not find a bottom. On the opposite side, the sea was deeply tinged with various colors, white, blue and green; and was very shallow. This island was larger on its first appearance than at some distance of time afterward; it at length sunk beneath the level of the sea, and is now no longer visible.

What can be more surprising than to see fire, not only force its way out of the bowels of the earth, but likewise make for itself a passage through the waters of the sea! What can be more extraordinary, or foreign to our common notions of things, than to observe the bottom of the sea rise up in a mountain above its surface, and become so firm an island as to be able to resist the violence of the greatest storms! We know that subterraneous fires, when pent up in a narrow passage, are able to elevate a mass of earth as large as an island; but that this should be done in so regular and precise a manner, that the water of the sea should not be able to penetrate and extinguish those fires; and that, after they should have exhausted themselves, the mass of earth should not fall down, or sink again with its own weight, but still remain in a manner suspended over the great arch below; this seems more surprising than any of the facts which have been related of Mount Etna, Vesuvius, or any other volcano.

In the first part of the Transactions of the Royal Society for the year 1812, Captain Tillard, of the British navy, has published a very interesting narrative of a similar phenomenon, which occurred in the same sea near the Azores. We give this narrative in his own words.

“Approaching the island of St. Michael’s, on Sunday, the twelfth of June, 1811, in his majesty’s sloop Sabrina, under my command, we occasionally observed, rising in the horizon, two or three columns of smoke, such as would have been occasioned by an action between two ships, to which cause we universally attributed its origin. This opinion was, however, in a very short time changed, from the smoke increasing and ascending in much larger bodies than could possibly have been produced by such an event; and having heard an account, prior to our sailing from Lisbon, that in the preceding January or February, a volcano had burst out within the sea near St. Michael’s, we immediately concluded that the smoke we saw proceeded from that cause, and, on our anchoring the next morning in the road of Ponta del Gada, we found this conjecture correct as to the cause, but not as to the time; the eruption of January having totally subsided, and the present one having only burst forth two days prior to our approach, and about three miles distant from the one before alluded to.

“Desirous of examining as minutely as possible a contention so extraordinary between two such powerful elements, I set off from the city of Ponta del Gada on the morning of the fourteenth, in company with Mr. Read, the consul-general of the Azores, and two other gentlemen. After riding about twenty miles across the north-west end of the island of St. Michael’s, we came to the edge of the cliff, whence the volcano burst suddenly upon our view in the most terrific and awful grandeur. [See cut, page 122.] It was only a short mile from the base of the cliff, which was nearly perpendicular, and formed the margin of the sea; this cliff being, as nearly as I could judge, from three to four hundred feet high. To give you an adequate idea of the scene by description, is far beyond my powers; but for your satisfaction, I shall attempt it.

“Imagine an immense body of smoke rising from the sea, the surface of which was marked by the slippery rippling of the waves, occasioned by the light and steady breezes incidental to these climates in summer. In a quiescent state, it had the appearance of a circular cloud revolving on the water like a horizontal wheel, in various and irregular involutions, expanding itself gradually on the lee side, when suddenly a column of the blackest cinders, ashes and stones would shoot up in the form of a spire, at an angle of from ten to twenty degrees from a perpendicular line, the angle of inclination being universally to windward; this was rapidly succeeded by a second, third and fourth shower, each acquiring greater velocity, and overtopping the other till they had attained an altitude as much above the level of our eye, as the sea was below it.

“As the impetus with which the columns were severally propelled diminished, and their ascending motion had nearly ceased, they broke into various branches resembling a group of pines; these again forming themselves into festoons of white feathery smoke, in the most fanciful manner imaginable, intermixed with the finest particles of falling ashes, which at one time assumed the appearance of innumerable plumes of black and white ostrich feathers, surmounting each other, and another, that of the light wavy branches of a weeping-willow.

“During these bursts, the most vivid flashes of lightning continually issued from the densest part of the volcano; and the cloud of smoke, now ascending to an altitude much above the highest point to which the ashes were projected, rolled off in large masses of fleecy clouds, gradually expanding themselves before the wind in a direction nearly horizontal, and drawing up to them a quantity of water-spouts, which formed a most beautiful and striking addition to the general appearance of the scene.

“That part of the sea where the volcano was situated, was upward of thirty fathoms deep, and at the time of our viewing it the volcano was only four days old. Soon after our arrival on the cliff, a peasant observed he could discern a peak above the water: we looked but could not see it; however, in less than half an hour it was plainly visible, and before we quitted the place, which was about three hours from the time of our arrival, a complete crater was formed above the water, not less than twenty feet high on the side where the greatest quantity of ashes fell; the diameter of the crater being apparently about four or five hundred feet.

“The great eruptions were generally attended with a noise like the continued firing of cannon and musketry intermixed, as also with slight shocks of earthquakes; several of which having been felt by my companions, but none by myself, I had become half skeptical, and thought their opinion arose merely from the force of imagination; but while we were sitting within five or six yards of the edge of the cliff, partaking of a slight repast which had been brought with us, and were all busily engaged, one of the most magnificent bursts took place which we had yet witnessed, accompanied by a very severe shock of an earthquake. The instantaneous and involuntary movement of each was to spring upon his feet; and I said, ‘This admits of no doubt.’ The words had scarcely passed my lips, before we observed a large portion of the face of the cliff, about fifty yards on our left, falling, which it did with a violent crash. So soon as our first consternation had a little subsided, we removed about ten or a dozen yards further from the edge of the cliff, and finished our dinner.

“On the succeeding day, June fifteenth, having the consul and some other friends on board, I weighed, and proceeded with the ship toward the volcano, with the intention of witnessing a night view; but in this expectation we were greatly disappointed, from the wind freshening, and the weather becoming thick and hazy, and also from the volcano itself being more quiescent than it was the preceding day. It seldom emitted any lightning, but occasionally as much flame as may be seen to issue from the top of a glass-house or foundry chimney. On passing directly under the great cloud of smoke, about three or four miles distant from the volcano, the decks of the ship were covered with fine black ashes, which fell intermixed with small rain. We returned the next morning, and late on the evening of the same day I took leave of St. Michael’s, to complete my cruise.

“On the opening of the volcano clear of the north-west part of the island, after dark on the sixteenth, we witnessed one or two eruptions that, had the ship been near enough, would have been awfully grand. It appeared one continued blaze of lightning; but its distance from the ship, upward of twenty miles, prevented our seeing it with effect. Returning again toward St. Michael’s, on the fourth of July, I was obliged, by the state of the wind, to pass with the ship very close to the island, which was now completely formed by the volcano, being nearly the hight of Matlock High Tor, about eighty yards above the sea. At this time it was perfectly tranquil; which circumstance determined me to land, and explore it more narrowly. I left the ship in one of the boats, accompanied by some of the officers. As we approached we perceived that it was still smoking in many parts, and, upon our reaching the island, found the surf on the beach very high. Rowing round to the lee-side, with some little difficulty, by the aid of an oar as a pole, I jumped on shore, and was followed by the other officers. We found a narrow beach of black ashes, from which the side of the island rose in general too steep to admit of our ascending; and where we could have clambered up, the mass of matter was much too hot to allow our proceeding more than a few yards in the ascent.

“The declivity below the surface of the sea was equally steep, having seven fathoms of water at scarcely the boat’s length from the shore, and at the distance of twenty or thirty yards we sounded twenty-five fathoms. From walking round it in about twelve minutes, I should judge that it was something less than a mile in circumference; but the most extraordinary part was the crater, the mouth of which, on the side facing St. Michael’s, was nearly level with the sea. It was filled with water, at that time boiling, and was emptying itself into the sea by a small stream about six yards over, and by which I should suppose it was continually filled again at high water. This stream, close to the edge of the sea, was so hot, as only to admit the finger to be dipped suddenly in, and taken out again immediately.

“It appeared evident, by the formation of this part of the island, that the sea had, during the eruptions, broken into the crater in two places, as the east side of the small stream was bounded by a precipice; a cliff between twenty and thirty feet high, forming a peninsula of about the same dimension in width, and from fifty to sixty feet long, connected with the other part of the island by a narrow ridge of cinders and lava, as an isthmus, of from forty to fifty feet in length, from which the crater rose in the form of an amphitheater.

“This cliff, at two or three miles’ distance from the island, had the appearance of a work of art, resembling a small fort or block-house. The top of this we were determined, if possible, to attain; but the difficulty we had to encounter in doing so, was considerable: the only way to attempt it was up the side of the isthmus, which was so steep that the only mode by which we could effect it, was by fixing the end of an oar at the base, with the assistance of which we forced ourselves up in nearly a backward direction.

“Having reached the summit of the isthmus, we found another difficulty: for it was impossible to walk upon it, as the descent on the other side was immediate, and as steep as the one we had ascended; but by throwing our legs across it, as would be done on the ridge of a house, and moving ourselves forward by our hands, we at length reached that part of it where it gradually widened itself, and formed the summit of the cliff, which we found to have a perfectly flat surface, of the dimensions before stated. Judging this to be the most conspicuous situation, we here planted the union, and left a bottle sealed up, containing a short account of the origin of the island, and of our having landed upon it, and naming it Sabrina island.

“Within the crater I found the complete skeleton of a guard-fish, the bones of which, being perfectly burnt, fell to pieces upon attempting to take them up; and, by the account of the inhabitants on the coast of St. Michael’s, great numbers of fish had been destroyed during the early part of the eruption, as large quantities, probably suffocated or poisoned, were occasionally found drifted into the small inlets or bays. The island, like other volcanic productions, is composed principally of porous substances, generally burnt to complete cinders, with occasional masses of a stone, which I should suppose to be a mixture of iron and limestone.”

Sabrina island has gradually disappeared, since the month of October, 1811, leaving an extensive shoal. Smoke was discovered still issuing out of the sea in the month of February, 1812, near the spot where this wonderful phenomenon appeared.

Having thus spoken of the Azores, we now pass to some similar phenomena in the Grecian archipelago. Before entering, however, on the details which are here furnished on this curious and most interesting subject, it may not be improper to observe, that the island of Acroteri, of great celebrity in ancient history, appears to have its surface composed of pumice-stone, incrusted by a surface of fertile earth; and that it is represented by the ancients as having risen, during a violent earthquake, from the sea. Four neighboring islands are described as having a similar origin, notwithstanding the sea is in that part of the archipelago of such a depth as to be unfathomable by any sounding line. These arose at different times: the first long before the commencement of the Christian era; the second in the first century; the third in the eighth; and the fourth in 1573.

We now proceed to a phenomenon of a similar nature, belonging to the same cluster of islands, which being of a more recent date, we are enabled to enter into all its particulars. They are such as can not fail to interest and surprise.

On the twenty-second of May, 1707, a severe earthquake was felt at Stanchio, an island of the archipelago; and on the ensuing morning a party of seamen, discovering not far off what they believed to be a wreck, rapidly rowed toward it; but finding rocks and earth instead of the remains of a ship, hastened back, and spread the news of what they had seen, in Santorini, another of these islands. However great the apprehensions of the inhabitants were at the first sight, their surprise soon abated, and in a few days, seeing no appearance of fire or smoke, some of them ventured to land on the new island. Their curiosity led them from rock to rock, where they found a kind of white stone, which yielded to the knife like bread, and nearly resembled that substance in color and consistence. They also found many oysters sticking to the rocks: but while they were employed in collecting them, the island moved and shook under their feet, on which they ran with precipitation to their boats. Amid these motions and tremblings the island increased, not only in hight, but in length and breadth: still occasionally, while it was raised and extended on the one side, it sunk and diminished on the other. One person observed a rock to rise out of the sea, forty or fifty paces from the island, which, having been thus visible for four days, sunk, and appeared no more: several others appeared and disappeared alternately, till at length they remained fixed and unmoved. In the mean time the color of the surrounding sea was changed: at first it was of a light green, then reddish, and afterward of a pale yellow, accompanied by a noisome stench, which spread itself over a part of the island of Santorini.

On the sixteenth of July, smoke first appeared, not indeed on the island, but issuing from a ridge of black stones which suddenly rose about sixty paces from it, where the depth of the sea was unfathomable. Thus there were two separate islands, one called the White, and the other the Black island, from the different appearances they exhibited. This thick smoke was of a whitish color, like that of a lime-kiln, and was carried by the wind to Santorini, where it penetrated the houses of the inhabitants.

In the night between the nineteenth and twentieth of July, flames began to issue with the smoke, to the great terror of the inhabitants of Santorini, especially of those occupying the castle of Scaro, who were distant about a mile and a half only from the burning island, which now increased very fast, large rocks daily springing up, which sometimes added to its length, and sometimes to its breadth. The smoke, also increased, and there not being any wind, ascended so high as to be seen at Candia, and other distant islands. During the night, it resembled a column of five, fifteen, or twenty feet in hight; and the sea was then covered with a scurf or froth, in some places reddish, and in others yellowish, from which proceeded such a stench, that the inhabitants throughout the whole island of Santorini burnt perfumes in their houses, and made fires in the streets, to prevent infection. This, indeed, did not last above a day or two; for a strong gale of wind dispersed the froth, but drove the smoke on the vineyards of Santorini, by which the grapes were, in one night, parched up and destroyed. This smoke also caused violent head-aches, attended with retchings.

On the thirty-first of July, the sea smoked and bubbled in two different places near the island, where the water formed a perfect circle, and looked like oil when beginning to simmer. This continued above a month, during which time many fishes were found dead on the shore of Santorini. On the following night a dull hollow noise was heard, like the distant report of several cannon, which was instantly followed by flames of fire, shooting up to a great hight in the air, where they suddenly disappeared. The next day the same hollow sound was several times heard, and succeeded by a blackish smoke, which, notwithstanding a fresh gale blew at the time, rose up to a prodigious hight, in the form of a column, and would probably in the night have appeared as if on fire.

On the seventh of August, a different noise was heard, resembling that of large stones thrown, at very short intervals, into a deep well. This noise, having lasted for some days, was succeeded by another much louder, so nearly resembling thunder, as scarcely to be distinguished from three or four real claps, which were heard at the same time.

On the twenty-first, the fire and smoke were very considerably diminished; but the next morning they broke out with still greater fury than before. The smoke was red, and very thick, the heat at the same time being so intense, that all around the island the sea smoked and bubbled surprisingly. At night, by the means of a telescope, sixty small openings or funnels, all emitting a very bright flame, were discovered on the highest part of the island, conjointly resembling a large furnace; and on the other side of the great volcano there appeared to be as many.

On the morning of the twenty-third, the island was much higher than on the preceding day, and its breadth increased by a chain of rocks which had sprung up in the night nearly fifty feet above the water. The sea was also again covered with reddish froth, which always appeared when the island seemed to have received any considerable additions, and occasioned an intolerable stench, until it was dispersed by the wind and the motion of the waves.

On the fifth of September, the fire opened another vent at the extremity of the Black island, from which it issued for several days. During that time little was discharged from the large furnace; but from this new passage the astonished spectator beheld the fire dart up three several times to a vast hight, resembling so many prodigious sky-rockets of a glowing, lively red. The following night the sub-aqueous fire made a terrible noise, and immediately, after a thousand sheaves of fire darted into the air, where breaking and dispersing, they fell like a shower of stars on the island, which appeared in a blaze, presenting to the amazed spectator at once a most dreadful and beautiful illumination. To these natural fire-works, succeeded a kind of meteor, which for some time hung over the castle of Scaro, and which, having a resemblance to a flaming sword, served to increase the consternation of the inhabitants of Santorini.

On the ninth of September, the White and Black islands united; after which the western end of the island grew daily in bulk. There were now four openings only which emitted flames; these issued forth with great impetuosity, sometimes attended with a noise like that of a large organ-pipe, and sometimes like the howling of wild beasts.

On the twelfth, the subterraneous noise was much augmented, having never been so frequent or so dreadful as on that and the following day. The bursts of this subterraneous thunder, like a general discharge of the artillery of an army, were repeated ten or twelve times within twenty-four hours, and, immediately after each clap, the large furnace threw up huge red-hot stones, which fell into the sea at a great distance. These claps were always followed by a thick smoke, which spread clouds of ashes over the sea and the neighboring islands.

On the eighteenth of September, an earthquake was felt at Santorini. It did but little damage, although it considerably enlarged the burning island, and in several places gave vent to the fire and smoke. The claps were also more terrible than ever; and, in the midst of a thick smoke, which appeared like a mountain, large pieces of rock, which afterward fell on the island, or into the sea, were thrown up with as much noise and force as balls from the mouth of a cannon. One of the small neighboring islands was covered with these fiery stones, which being thinly crusted over with sulphur, gave a bright light, and continued burning until that was consumed.

On the twenty-first, a dreadful clap of subterraneous thunder was followed by very powerful lightnings, and at the same instant the new island was so violently shaken, that part of the great furnace fell down, and huge burning rocks were thrown to the distance of two miles and upward. This seemed to be the last effort of the volcano, and appeared to have exhausted the combustible matter, as all was quiet for several days after: but on the twenty-fifth, the fire broke out again with still greater fury, and among the claps one was so terrible, that the churches of Santorini were soon filled with crowds of people, expecting every moment to be their last; and the castle and town of Scaro suffered such a shock, that the doors and windows of the houses flew open. The volcano continued to rage during the remaining part of the year; and in the month of January, 1708, the large furnace, without one day’s intermission, threw out stones and flames, at least once or twice, but generally five or six times a day.

On the tenth of February, in the morning, a pretty strong earthquake was felt at Santorini, which the inhabitants considered as a prelude to greater commotions in the burning island; nor were they deceived, for soon after the fire and smoke issued in prodigious quantities. The thunder-like claps were redoubled, and all was horror and confusion: rocks of an amazing size were raised up to a great hight above the water; and the sea raged and boiled to such a degree as to occasion great consternation. The subterraneous bellowings were heard without intermission, and sometimes in less than a quarter of an hour, there were six or seven eruptions from the large furnace. The noise of repeated claps, the quantity of huge stones which flew about on every side, the houses at Santorini tottering to their very foundations, and the fire, which now appeared in open day, surpassed all that had hitherto happened, and formed a scene terrific and astonishing beyond description.

The fifteenth of April was rendered memorable by the number and violence of the bellowings and eruptions, by one of which nearly a hundred stones were thrown at the same instant into the air, and fell again into the sea at about two miles distant. From that day until the twenty-second of May, which may be considered as the anniversary of the birth of the new island, things continued much in the same state, but afterward the fire and smoke subsided by degrees, and the subterraneous thunders became less terrible.

On the fifteenth of July, 1709, the Bishop of Santorini, accompanied by several friars, hired a boat to take a near view of the island. They made directly toward it on that side where the sea did not bubble, but where it smoked very much. Being within the range of this vapor, they felt a close, suffocating heat, and found the water very hot; on which they directed their course toward a part of the island at the furthest distance from the large furnace. The fires, which still continued to burn, and the boiling of the sea, obliged them to make a great circuit, notwithstanding which they felt the air about them to be very hot and sultry. Having encompassed the island, and surveyed it carefully from an adjacent one, they judged it to be two hundred feet above the sea, about a mile broad, and five miles in circumference; but, not being thoroughly satisfied, they resolved to make an attempt at landing, and accordingly rowed toward that part of the island where they perceived neither fire nor smoke. When, however, they had proceeded to within the distance of a hundred yards, the great furnace discharged itself with its usual fury, and the wind blew upon them so dense a smoke, and so heavy a shower of ashes, that they were obliged to abandon their design. Having retired somewhat further, they let down their sounding lead, with a line ninety-five fathoms in length, but it was too short to reach the bottom. On their return to Santorini, they observed that the heat of the water had melted the greater part of the pitch employed in calking their boat, which had now become very leaky.

From that time until the fifteenth of August, the fire, smoke and noises continued, but not in so great a degree; and it appears that for several years after, the island still increased, but that the fire and subterraneous noises were much abated. The most recent account we have been enabled to collect, is that of a traveler, who, in 1811, passed this island at some distance. It appeared to him like a stupendous mass of rock, but was not inhabited or cultivated. It had then long ceased to burn.

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SUBTERRANEAN WONDERS.

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THE GROTTA DEL CANE.

“Give me, ye powers, the wondrous scenes to show, Concealed in darkness in the caves below.”

Among the various subterranean wonders of the world, which are worthy of special notice, we would first mention the “Grotta del Cane.” This name has been given to a small cavern between Naples and Pozzuoli, on this account, that if a dog be brought into it, and his nose held to the ground, a difficulty of respiration instantly ensues, and he loses all sensation and even life, if he be not speedily removed into purer air. There are other grottos endowed with the same deleterious quality, especially in volcanic countries; and the pestiferous vapors they exhale, are quickly fatal both to animals and man, though they do not offer to the eye the slightest indication of their presence. These vapors are, however, for the greater part temporary; while that of the Grotta del Cane is perpetual, and seems to have produced its deadly effects even in the time of Pliny. A man standing erect within, does not suffer from it, the mephitic vapor rising to a small hight only from the ground. It may, therefore, be entered without danger.

The smoke of a torch extinguished in this vapor, or gas, sinks downward, assumes a whitish color, and passes out at the bottom of the door. The reason of this is, that the fumes which proceed from the torch mix more readily with the gas than with the atmospherical air. It has been supposed, that the mischievous effects of the vapor were the result of the air being deprived of its elasticity; but it has been clearly demonstrated by M. Adolphus Murray, that they are solely to be attributed to the existence of carbonic acid gas.

The person who is the keeper, or guide, at the grotto, and who shows to strangers the experiment of the dog for a gratuity, takes the animal, when he is half dead and panting, into the open air, and then proceeds to throw him into the neighboring lake of Agnano, thus insinuating that this short immersion in the water is necessary to his complete restoration. This, however, is a mere trick, to render the experiment more specious, and to obtain a handsome present from the credulous, the atmospherical air alone sufficing for that purpose.

The celebrated naturalist, the Abbe Spallanzani, projected a regular series of experiments on the mephitic vapor of this grotto, from a persuasion that they would tend to throw a new light on physiology and natural philosophy. Being, however, prevented from undertaking this, by his duties as a professor, his friend, the Abbe Breislak, who resided near the spot, engaged in the task; and the following is an abstract of his learned memoir on this subject.

It is well known, the abbe observes, that the mephitic vapor occupies the floor of a small grotto near the lake Agnano, a place highly interesting to naturalists from the phenomena its environs present, and the hills within which it is included. This grotto is situated on the south-east side of the lake, at a little distance from it. Its length is about twelve feet, and its breadth from four to five. It appears to have been originally a small excavation, made for the purpose of obtaining pozzuolana, an earth which, being applied as mortar, becomes a powerful cement. In the sides of the grotto, among the earthy volcanic matters, are found pieces of lava, of the same kind with those which are met with scattered near the lake.

The abbe is persuaded that, if new excavations were to be made in the vicinity of the grotto, at a level with its floor, or a little lower, the same mephitic vapor would be found; and thinks it would be curious to ascertain the limits of its extent. It would also be advantageous to physical observations, if the grotto were to be somewhat enlarged, and its floor reduced to a level horizontal plane, by sinking it two or three feet, and surrounding it by a low wall, with steps at the entrance. In its present state it is extremely inconvenient for experiments, and the inclination of the ground toward the door causes a great part of the vapor, from the effect of its specific gravity, to make its way out close to the ground.

When the narrow limits of this place are considered, and the small quantity of the vapor which has rendered it so celebrated, there can not be any doubt but that it has undergone considerable changes; since it does not appear probable that Pliny refers to the present confined vapor only, when, in enumerating many places from which a deadly air exhaled, he mentions the territory of Pozzuoli. The internal fermentations by which it is caused, are certainly much diminished in the vicinity of the lake Agnano. The water near its banks is no longer seen to bubble up, from the disengagement of a gas, as it appears from accounts, not of very remote antiquity, to have done. The borders of the lake were attentively examined by the abbe, when its waters were at the highest, and after heavy rains; but he could never discover a single bubble of air. A number of aquatic insects which sport on the surface, may at first sight occasion some deception; but a slight observation soon detects the error. If, therefore, we do not suppose those authors who have described the ebullition of the water near the banks of the lake Agnano to have been deceived, it must at least be confessed, that this phenomenon has now ceased. The quantity of the sulphureous vapors which rise in the contiguous stoves, called the stoves of St. Germano, must likewise be greatly diminished from what it anciently was: for, adjoining to the present stoves, we still find the remains of a spacious ancient fabric, with tubes of terra cotta inserted in the walls, which, by their direction, show for what purpose they were intended. It appears certain, that this was a building in which, by the means of pipes properly disposed, the vapors of the place were introduced into different rooms for the use of patients. To these ruins, however, the vapors no longer extend; so that, if this edifice had remained entire, it could not have been employed for the purpose for which it was intended. The veins of pyrites which produced the more ancient conflagrations of the Phlegrean fields, between Naples and Cuma, and which, in some places, are entirely consumed, approach their total extinction. We will now proceed to the experiments within the grotto.

The object of the first was to determine the hight of the mephitic vapor at the center of the grotto, that is, at the intersection of the line of its greatest length with that of its greatest breadth. The hight varies according to the different dispositions and temperatures of the atmosphere, the diversity of winds, and the accidental variations which take place in the internal fermentations by which the vapor is produced. It may, however, be estimated at a mean, at nearly nine English inches.

The second set of experiments regarded the degree of heat on entering into the mephitis: it was slightly sensible in the feet and lower part of the legs; notwithstanding which, on taking out of the vapor several substances which had remained in it for a long time, such as stones, leaves, the carcasses of animals, &c., the abbe found that these were of the same temperature with the atmospheric air. Feeling in his body a slight degree of heat, which he could not perceive in the substances removed from the mephitic vapor, he was led by comparison to conclude, that the temperature of the latter was the same with the atmospherical air, agreeably to the principles of Dr. Crauford. He was, however, mistaken; for in subsequent experiments, he found a very distinct degree of heat. He was now provided with a thermometer, his former one having been broken, and, having suspended it at the aperture of the grotto, three feet above the surface of the vapor, found the mercury to stand at from sixty-two to sixty-four degrees of Fahrenheit; but, on placing the ball on the ground so as to immerse it in the vapor, the mercury rose to eighty, and even eighty-two degrees. That the substances taken out of the mephitis did not exhibit this diversity of temperature, was, he thinks, owing to the quantity of humidity with which they are always loaded, and which produces on their surface a constant evaporation. He was the more particular in repeating these experiments, because the naturalists who had, before him, made similar ones in the Grotta del Cane, had not observed the vapor to produce any effect on the mercury in the thermometer.

Thirdly. He repeated for his own satisfaction, the usual experiments made by naturalists, with the tincture of turnsole, lime-water, the crystallizations of alkalies, the absorption of water, and the acidulous taste communicated to it; which prove, beyond all doubt, the existence of fixed air, or carbonic acid gas, in the vapor of the grotto. He ascertained that it was not formed of fixed air alone, as might have been conjectured; but that the relative quantities of the different gases which compose its mephitic air, are as follows: in one hundred parts there are ten of vital air, or oxygen gas; forty of fixed air, or carbonic acid gas; and fifty of phlogisticated air, or azotic gas.

Fourthly. The phenomena of magnetism and electricity were investigated by the abbe in this grotto. With respect to the former, there was not any new appearance: the magnetic needle, being placed on the ground, and consequently immersed in the mephitis, rested in the direction of its meridian, and, at the approach of a magnetized bar, exhibited the usual effects of attraction and repulsion, in proportion as either pole was presented. As to the latter, electricity, it was impossible to make the experiments within the mephitis, not because this kind of air is a conductor of the electric fluid, as has been imagined, but because the humidity by which it is constantly accompanied, disperses the electric matter; and this, not being collected in a conductor, can not be rendered sensible. He attempted several times to fire inflammable gas, with electric sparks, in the mephitic vapor, by means of the conductor of the electrophus; but, notwithstanding his utmost endeavors to animate the electricity, he could never obtain a single spark, the non-conductor becoming a conductor the moment it entered into the mephitis, on account of the humidity which adhered to its surface.

Fifthly. His latest experiments were directed to the theory of the combustion of bodies. He first endeavored to ascertain whether those spontaneous inflammations that result from the mixture of concentrated acids with essential oils, could be obtained within the grotto. He placed on the ground a small vessel, in such a situation that the mephitis rose six inches above its edges, employing oil of turpentine, and the vitriolic and nitrous acids: the same inflammation, accompanied by a lively flame, followed, as would have taken place in the open atmospheric air. The dense smoke which always accompanies these inflammations, being attracted by the humidity of the mephitis, presented its undulations to the eye, and formed a very pleasing object. As he had put a considerable quantity of acid in the vessel, he repeatedly poured in a little of the oil, and the flame appeared in the mouth of the vessel fifteen times successively. The oxygenous principle contained in the acids, and with which the nitrous acid principally abounds, undoubtedly contributed to the production and duration of this flame, though enveloped in an atmosphere inimical to inflammation.

The abbe had, in the district of Latera, observed that in a mephitis of hydrogenous sulphurated or hepatic gas a slow combustion of phosphorus took place, with the same resplendence as in the atmospheric air. On the present occasion, his first experiment, in the mephitis of Agnano, was made with common phosphoric matches, five of which he broke, holding them to the ground, and consequently immersed in the mephitis. They produced a short and transient flame, which became extinguished the moment it was communicated to the wick of a candle. His second experiment was as follows: he placed on the ground, within the grotto, a long table, in such a manner that one extremity was without the mephitis, while the other, and four-fifths of its length, were immersed in it. Along this table he laid a train of gunpowder, beginning from the end without the mephitis; and, at the other end, which was immersed in it to the depth of seven inches, he placed, adjoining to the gunpowder, a cylinder of phosphorus, eight lines in length. The gunpowder, without the mephitis, being fired, the combustion was soon communicated to the other extremity of the train, and to the phosphorus, which took fire with decrepitation, burned rapidly with a bright flame, slightly colored with yellow and green, and left on the wood a black mark, as of charcoal. The combustion lasted nearly two minutes, when the whole phosphoric matter was consumed.

In succeeding experiments not any alteration was perceptible in the flame, or manner of burning, of the lighted phosphorus, either at the moment of its entrance into the mephitis, or during its continuance in it. When suddenly withdrawn, it ignited gunpowder equally well. Hence the abbe deduces, that the mephitic gas of Grotta del Cane, however it may be utterly unfit for the respiration of animals, and for the inflammation of common combustible substances, readily allows that of phosphorus, which not only burns in it, but emits, as usual, luminous sparks.

GROTTO OF ANTIPAROS.

Antiparos, one of the Cyclades, is situated in the Egean sea, or Grecian archipelago. It is a small island, about sixteen miles in circumference, and lies two miles to the west of the celebrated Paros, from which circumstance it derives its name, anti in the Greek language signifying opposite to. Its singular and most interesting grotto, though so inferior in size to the cavern in Kentucky of which we shall soon speak, has attracted the attention of an infinite number of travelers. The entrance to this superb grotto is on the side of a rock, and is a large arch, formed of craggy stones, overhung with brambles and creeping plants, which bestow on it a gloominess at once awful and agreeable. Having proceeded about thirty paces within it, the traveler enters a low, narrow alley, surrounded on every side by stones, which, by the light of torches, glitter like diamonds; the whole being covered and lined throughout with small crystals, which give by their different reflections, a variety of colors. At the end of this alley or passage, having a rope tied round his waist, he is led to the brink of an awful precipice, and is thence lowered into a deep abyss, the gloom pervading which makes him regret the “alley of diamonds” he has just quitted. He has not yet, however, reached the grotto, but is led forward about forty paces, beneath a roof of rugged rocks, amid a scene of terrible darkness, and at a vast depth from the surface of the earth, to the brink of another precipice, much deeper and more awful than the former.

Having descended this precipice, which is not accomplished without considerable difficulty, the traveler enters a passage, the grandeur and beauty of which can be but imperfectly described. It is one hundred and twenty feet in length, about nine feet high, and in width seven, with a bottom of a fine green glossy marble. The walls and arched roof are as smooth and polished as if they had been wrought by art, and are composed of a fine glittering red and white granite, supported at intervals by columns of a deep blood-red shining porphyry, which, by the reflection of the lights, presents an appearance inconceivably grand. At the extremity of this passage is a sloping wall, formed of a single mass of purple marble, studded with sprigs of rock crystal, which, from the glow of the purple behind, appear like a continued range of amethysts.

Another slanting passage, filled with petrifactions, representing the figures of snakes and other animals, and having toward its extremity two pillars of beautiful yellow marble, which seem to support the roof, leads to the last precipice, which is descended by means of a ladder. The traveler, who has descended to the depth of nearly fifteen hundred feet beneath the surface, now enters the magnificent grotto, to procure a sight of which he has endured so much fatigue. It is in width three hundred and sixty feet; in length three hundred and forty; and in most places one hundred and eighty in hight. By the aid of torch-light, he finds himself beneath an immense and finely vaulted arch, overspread with icicles of white shining marble, many of them ten feet in length, and of a proportionate thickness. Among these are suspended a thousand festoons of leaves and flowers, of the same substance, but so glittering as to dazzle the sight. The sides are planted with petrifactions, also of white marble, representing trees; these rise in rows one above the other, and often inclose the points of the icicles. From them also hang festoons, tied as it were one to another, in great abundance; and in some places rivers of marble seem to wind through them. In short, these petrifactions, the result of the dripping of water for a long series of ages, nicely resemble trees and brooks turned to marble. The floor is paved with crystals of different colors, such as red, blue, green and yellow, projecting from it, and rendering it rugged and uneven. These are again interspersed with icicles of white marble, which have apparently fallen from the roof, and are there fixed. To these the guides fasten their torches; and the glare of splendor and beauty which results from such an illumination, may be better conceived than described.

To the above description we subjoin an extract from the one given by Dr. Clarke, a learned traveler, who visited this celebrated grotto.

“The mode of descent is by ropes, which, on the different declivities, are either held by the guides, or are joined to a cable which is fastened at the entrance around a stalactite pillar. In this manner, we were conducted, first down one declivity, and then down another, until we entered the spacious chambers of this truly enchanted grotto. The roof, the floor, the sides, of a whole series of magnificent caverns, were entirely invested with a dazzling incrustation as white as snow. Columns, some of which were five and twenty feet in length, pended in fine icicle forms above our heads: fortunately some of them are so far above the reach of the numerous travelers, who during many ages, have visited this place, that no one has been able to injure or remove them. Others extended from the roof to the floor, with diameters equal to that of the mast of a first-rate ship of the line. The incrustations of the floor, caused by falling drops from the stalactites above, had grown up into dendritic and vegetable forms, which first suggested to Tournefort the strange notion of his having here discovered the vegetation of stones. Vegetation itself has been considered as a species of crystallization; and as the process of crystallization is so surprisingly manifested by several phenomena in this grotto, some analogy may perhaps be allowed to exist between the plant and the stone; but it can not be said, that a principle of life existing in the former has been imparted to the latter. The last chamber into which we descended surprised us more by the grandeur of its exhibition than any other. Probably there are many other chambers below this, yet unexplored, for no attempt has been made to penetrate further: and, if this be true, the new caverns, when opened, would appear in perfect splendor, unsullied, in any part of them, by the smoke of torches, or by the hands of intruders.”

CAVERNS IN GERMANY AND HUNGARY,

CONTAINING FOSSIL BONES.

Among the most remarkable of these caverns are those of Gaylenreuth, on the confines of Bayreuth. The opening to these, which is about seven feet and a half high, is at the foot of a rock of limestone of considerable magnitude, and in its eastern side. Immediately beyond the opening is a magnificent grotto, of about three hundred feet in circumference, which has been naturally divided by the form of the roof into four caves. The first is about twenty-five feet long and wide, and varies in hight from nine to eighteen feet, the roof being formed into irregular arches. Beyond this is the second cave, about twenty-eight feet long, and of nearly the same width and hight with the former.

A low and very rugged passage, the roof of which is formed of projecting pieces of rocks, leads to the third grotto, the opening into which is a hole three feet high, and four feet wide. This grotto is more regular in its form, and is about thirty feet in diameter, and nearly round; its hight is from five to six feet. It is very richly and fantastically adorned by the varying forms of its stalactitic hangings. The floor is also covered with a wet and slippery glazing, in which several teeth and jaws appear to have been fixed.

From this grotto commences the descent to the inferior caverns. Within only about five or six feet an opening in the floor is seen, which is partly vaulted over by a projecting piece of rock. The descent is about twenty feet. This cavern is about thirty feet in hight, about fifteen feet in width, and nearly circular; the sides, roof and floor, displaying the remains of animals. The rock itself is thickly beset with teeth and bones, and the floor is covered with a loose earth, the evident result of animal decomposition, and in which numerous bones are imbedded.

A gradual descent leads to another grotto, which, with its passage, is forty feet in length, and twenty feet in hight. Its sides and top are beautifully adorned with stalactites. Nearly twenty feet further is a frightful gulf, the opening of which is about fifteen feet in diameter; and, upon descending about twenty feet, another grotto, about the same diameter with the former, but forty feet in hight, is seen. Here the bones are dispersed about; and the floor, which is formed of animal earth, has great numbers of them imbedded in it. The bones which are here found, seem to be of different animals; but in this, as well as in the former caverns, perfect and unbroken bones are very seldom found. Sometimes a tooth is seen projecting from the solid rock, through the stalactitic covering, showing that many of these wonderful remains may here be concealed. A specimen of this kind has been preserved, and is rendered particularly interesting, by the first molar tooth of the lower jaw, with its enamel quite perfect, rising through the stalactitic mass which invests the bone. In this cavern the stalactites begin to be of a larger size, and of a more columnar form.

Passing on through a narrow opening in the rock, a small cave, seven feet long, and five feet high, is discovered; another narrow opening leads to another small cave; from which a sloping descent leads to a cave twenty-five feet in hight, and about half as much in its diameter, in which is a truncated columnar stalactite, eight feet in circumference.

A narrow and most difficult passage, twenty feet in length, leads from this cavern to another, twenty-five feet in hight, which is everywhere beset with teeth, bones and stalactitic projections. This cavern is suddenly contracted, so as to form a vestibule of six feet wide, ten long, and nine high, terminating in an opening close to the floor, only three feet wide and two high, through which it is necessary to writhe, with the body on the ground. This leads into a small cave, eight feet high and wide, which is the passage into a grotto, twenty-eight feet high, and about forty-three feet long and wide. Here the prodigious quantity of animal earth, the vast number of teeth, jaws and other bones, and the heavy grouping of the stalactites, produce so dismal an appearance, as to become a perfect model of a temple for a god of the dead. Here hundreds of cart-loads of bony remains might be removed, pockets might be filled with fossil teeth, and animal earth was found to reach to the utmost depth to which the workmen dug. A piece of stalactite, being here broken down, was found to contain pieces of bones within it, the remnants of which were left imbedded in the rock. From this principal cave is a very narrow passage, terminating in the last cave, which is about six feet in width, fifteen in hight, and the same in length. In this cave were no animal remains, and the floor was the naked rock.

Thus far only can these natural sepulchers be traced; but there is every reason to suppose, that these animal remains are disposed through a greater part of this rock. Whence this immense quantity of the remains of carnivorous animals could have been collected, is a question which naturally arises; but the difficulty of answering it appears to be almost insurmountable.

THE MAMMOTH CAVE.

For one of the earliest accounts of this stupendous cavern, which is unparalleled in the entire history of subterranean wonders, we are indebted to Dr. Nahum Ward, who published it in a monthly magazine, in October, 1816. It is in what was formerly Warren, but now Edmonson county, in the state of Kentucky, about ten miles from the great Louisville and Nashville turnpike. The territory is not mountainous but broken, differing in this respect from the vicinity of most other caverns of the same general kind. Not far from the entrance, a hotel is now kept for the accommodation of visitors, as the cave is quite a fashionable resort for travelers during the summer season. Perhaps we shall best gain correct ideas of this wonderful cavern, which is almost a world in itself, having its own seas, mountains, lakes, rivers, &c., by reading first the account given by Dr. Ward, and then that of a visitor who explored it in 1854.

Dr. Ward, provided with guides, two large lamps, a compass and refreshments, descended a pit forty feet in depth, and one hundred and twenty in circumference; having a spring of fine water at the bottom, and conducting to the entrance of the cavern. The opening, which is to the north, is from forty to fifty feet high, and about thirty in width. It narrows shortly after, but again expands to a width of thirty or forty feet, and a hight of twenty, continuing these dimensions for about a mile, to the first hoppers,[2] where a manufactory of saltpeter had recently been established. Thence to the second of these hoppers, two miles from the entrance, it is forty feet in width, and sixty in hight. Throughout nearly the whole of the distance handsome walls had been made by the manufacturers, of the loose limestone. The road was hard, and as smooth as a flag pavement. In every passage which the doctor traversed, the sides of the cavern were perpendicular, and the arches, which have bid defiance even to earthquakes, were regular. In 1802, when the heavy shocks of earthquakes came on which were so severely felt in this part of Kentucky, the workmen stationed at the second hoppers, heard about five minutes before each shock, a heavy rumbling noise issue from the cave, like a strong wind. When that ceased, the rocks cracked, and the whole appeared to be going in a moment to final destruction. However, no one was injured, although large portions of rock fell in different parts of the cavern.

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Footnote 2:

A hopper is an inverted cone, into which corn is put at a mill before it runs between the stones.

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In advancing into the cavern, the avenue leads from the second hoppers, west, one mile; and thence, south-west, to the chief area or city, which is six miles from the entrance. This avenue, throughout its whole extent from the above station to the cross-roads, or chief area, is from sixty to one hundred feet in hight, of a similar width, and nearly on a level, the floor or bottom being covered with loose limestone and saltpeter earth. “When,” observes the doctor, “I reached this immense area (called the chief city) which contains upward of eight acres, without a single pillar to support the arch, which is entire over the whole, I was struck dumb with astonishment. Nothing can be more sublime and grand than this place, of which but a faint idea can be conveyed, covered with one solid arch at least one hundred feet high, and to all appearance entire.”

Having entered the area, the doctor perceived five large avenues leading from it, from sixty to one hundred feet in width, and about forty in hight. The stone walls are arched, and were from forty to eighty feet perpendicular in hight before the commencement of the arch.

In exploring these avenues, the precaution was taken to cut arrows, pointing to the mouth of the cave, on the stones beneath the feet, to prevent any difficulty in the return. The first which was traversed, took a southerly direction for more than two miles; when a second was taken, which led first east, and then north, for more than two miles further. These windings at length brought the party, by another avenue, to the chief city again, after having traversed different avenues for more than five miles. Having reposed for a few moments on slabs of limestone near the center of this gloomy area, and refreshed themselves and trimmed their lamps, they departed a second time, through an avenue almost north, parallel with the one leading from the chief city to the mouth of the cavern; and, having proceeded upward of two miles, came to the second city. This is covered with a single arch, nearly two hundred feet high in the center, and is very similar to the chief city, except in the number of its avenues, which are two only. They crossed it, over a very considerable rise in the center, and descended through an avenue which bore to the east, to the distance of nearly a mile, when they came to a third area, or city, about one hundred feet square, and fifty in hight, which had a pure and delightful stream of water issuing from the side of a wall about thirty feet high, and which fell on a broken surface of stone, and was afterward entirely lost to view.

Having passed a few yards beyond this beautiful sheet of water, so as to reach the end of the avenue, the party returned about one hundred yards, and passing over a considerable mass of stone, entered another, but smaller avenue to the right, which carried them south, through a third, of an uncommonly black hue, somewhat more than a mile; when they ascended a very steep hill about sixty yards, which conducted them to within the walls of the fourth city. It is not inferior to the second, having an arch which covers at least six acres. In this last avenue, the extremity of which can not be less than four miles from the chief city, and ten from the mouth of the cavern, are upward of twenty large piles of saltpeter earth on the one side, and broken limestone heaped up on the other, evidently the work of human hands.

From the course of his needle, the doctor expected that this avenue would have led circuitously to the chief city; but was much disappointed when he reached the extremity, a few hundred yards’ distance from the fourth city. In retracing his steps, not having paid a due attention to mark the entrances of the different avenues, he was greatly bewildered, and once completely lost himself for nearly fifteen or twenty minutes. Thus, faint and wearied, he did not reach the chief area till ten at night; but was still determined to explore the cavern so long as his light should last. Having entered the fifth and last avenue from the chief area, and proceeded south-east about nine hundred yards, he came to the fifth area, the arch of which covers upward of four acres of level ground, strewed with limestone, and having fire-beds of an uncommon size, surrounded with brands of cane, interspersed. Another avenue on the opposite side, led to one of still greater capacity, the walls or sides of which were more perfect than any that had been noticed, running almost due south for nearly a mile and a half, and being very level and straight, with an elegant arch. While the doctor was employed, at the extremity of this avenue, in sketching a plan of the cave, one of his guides, who had strayed to a distance, called on him to follow. Leaving the other guide, he was led to a vertical passage, which opened into a chamber at least eighteen hundred feet in circumference, and the center of the arch of which was one hundred and fifty feet in hight.

It was past midnight when he entered this chamber of eternal darkness; and when he reflected on the different avenues through which he had passed since he had penetrated the cave at eight in the morning, and now found himself buried several miles in the dark recesses of this awful cavern—the grave, perhaps, of thousands of human beings—he felt a shivering horror. The avenue, or passage, which led from it was as large as any he had entered; and it is uncertain how far he might have traveled had his lights not failed him. All those who have any knowledge of this cave, he observes, conjecture that Green river, a stream navigable several hundred miles, passes over three of its branches.

After a lapse of nearly an hour, he descended by what is called the “passage of the chimney,” and joined the other guide. Thence returning to the chief area or city, where the lamps were trimmed for the last time, he entered the spacious avenue which led to the second hoppers. Here he met with various curiosities, such as spars, petrifactions, &c.; and these he brought away, together with a mummy which was found at the second hoppers. He reached the mouth of the cave about three in the morning, nearly exhausted with nineteen hours of constant fatigue. He nearly fainted on leaving it, and on inhaling the vapid air of the atmosphere, after having so long breathed the pure air occasioned by the niter of the cave. His pulse beat stronger when in the cave, but not so quick as when on the surface.

Here the doctor observes that he has hardly described half the cave, not having named the avenues between its mouth and the second hoppers. This part of his narrative is of equal interest with what has been already given. He states that there is a passage in the main avenue, upward of nine hundred feet from the entrance, like that of a trap-door. By sliding aside a large flat stone, you can descend sixteen or eighteen feet in a very narrow defile, where the passage comes on a level, and winds about in such a manner, as to pass under the main passage without having any communication with it, at length opening into the main cave by two large passages just beyond the second hoppers. This is called the “glauber-salt room,” from salts of that kind being found there. Next come the sick room, the bat-room, and the flint-room, together with a winding avenue, which, branching off at the second hoppers, runs west and south-west for more than two miles. It is called the “haunted chamber,” from the echo within: its arch is very beautifully incrusted with limestone spar; and in many places the columns of spar are truly elegant, extending from the ceiling to the floor. Near the center of this arch is a dome, apparently fifty feet high, hung in rich drapery, festooned in the most fanciful manner for six or eight feet from the hangings, and in colors the most rich and brilliant. By the reflection of one or two lights, the columns of spar and the stalactites have a very romantic appearance. Of this spar, a large elevation, called “Wilkin’s arm-chair,” has been formed in the center of the avenue and encircled with many smaller ones. The columns of the spar, fluted and studded with knobs of spar and stalactites; the drapery of the various colors superbly festooned and hung in the most graceful manner, these are shown with the greatest brilliancy by the reflection of the lamps.

In the vicinity of the haunted chamber, the sound of a cataract was heard; and at the extremity of the avenue was a reservoir of water, very clear and grateful to the taste, having, apparently, neither inlet nor outlet. Here the air, as in many other parts of the cave, was pure and delightful. Not far from the reservoir, an avenue presented itself, within which were several columns of the most brilliant spar, sixty or seventy feet in hight, and almost perpendicular, standing in basins of water; which, as well as the columns, were of surpassing splendor and beauty.

So far we have followed the brief and general account of Dr. Ward. Turning now to other accounts, we find that the cave extends for miles under the earth, and that the end of it has never yet been reached by any explorer. The air is not only pure, but delightful and exhilarating, and has been highly recommended for diseases of the lungs, so much so, that quite a number of small houses have been built within to accommodate consumptive persons, who at times have resided there with benefit. The temperature there is uniformly the same, being in both winter and summer, from fifty-five degrees to fifty-nine degrees Fahrenheit. Combustion is perfect in all parts of the cave, and decomposition is nowhere observable. No reptiles, of any description, have ever been seen within it. The loudest thunder can not be heard a quarter of a mile within, and the only sound is the roar of the waterfalls, of which there are some seven or eight.

The entire cave, so far as explored, contains two hundred and fifty or more avenues, nearly fifty domes, twenty-two pits and three rivers. Many of the avenues contain large and magnificent stalagmite columns, extending from the floor to the ceiling, and some of very grotesque and fanciful shape. Graceful stalactites may likewise be seen pendant from the ceilings, as uniform and regular as if they were cut by the hand of man. The engraving gives a view of one of those avenues where the stalagmites and stalactites abound in great profusion. In another part of this avenue, in what is called the Gothic Chapel, these stalactic formations are still more striking, very much resembling a monkish cathedral. In the Fairy Grotto, the formations likewise assume a great many fanciful shapes.

Passing now to the second account of a visit to the cave, to which we have already alluded, we find the visitor saying, that the cave is every way so wonderful, that it is impossible to give more than a faint idea of its magnificence and splendor. “As in exploring the cave,” he continues, “there are three rivers to cross and a great deal of climbing over rocks and crawling through narrow places, ladies adopt the Bloomer costume from necessity, and gentlemen are provided with dresses according to their fancy, so that a party starting out for a trip through the cave, present a most grotesque and comical appearance. On arriving at the mouth, the visitor is provided with a lamp, and makes an abrupt, though comparatively easy descent of some seventy or eighty feet. Here he enters a dark avenue, about five rods wide, called the Narrows, and soon finds himself far beyond where daylight ever shone. At the distance of about six hundred yards from the mouth, this avenue expands and forms a large circular room, called the Rotunda, or Great Vestibule. The guide stops here, and ignites a light, a compound of sulphur, saltpeter and antimony, prepared for illuminating the various points of special interest through the cave. This forms a most brilliant light, and reveals a room some two or three hundred feet wide, and forty-seven feet high. The view revealed by this first illumination is most imposing and sublime. I told my guide that he was certainly right in his ideas about describing the cave. As he saw me getting my paper and pencil ready at the mouth, he began laughing very significantly, and said, ‘Writin ’bout the cave aint no use, sir. Most everybody that goes in writes, but they gin’ally throws it away when they comes out. Writin don’t do no good. If anybody wants to know ’bout the cave, they must come and see it.’ Although I had barely commenced my journey through it, I told my guide that I could heartily subscribe to the whole of his speech on this subject.

“And right here, in the great vestibule, I will stop to say a few words about my guide. There are four guides to the cave, all of whom are said to be entirely familiar with it, and to give the most perfect satisfaction to visitors. At all events, I was entirely satisfied with ‘Alfred,’ with whom I made four different journeys through the cave, traveling under ground through various avenues more than fifty miles. Alfred formerly belonged to Miss Mary Croghan, whose elopement from a boarding-school on Staten Island about a dozen years ago, with Captain Shinley, created so great a sensation in New York and elsewhere. After she went to England, she gave Alfred to some of her relatives, and he belonged to Dr. Croghan at the time of his death, who was the owner of the cave. By the terms of Dr. Croghan’s will, Alfred and his wife and children will be free in about eighteen months. He is now drawing wages for his services, which, with the liberal presents he receives from visitors, will enable him to make a very fine start in the world. Alfred has evidently been a great pet, as he learned to read when very small; and he astonishes visitors by his use of scientific terms, and his knowledge of chemistry and geology. He has now been a guide to the cave about sixteen years; has visited it with a great many scientific men; has most of the standard works on geology, and is altogether an interesting character. He sees persons from all parts of the union, and understands all the excitements at the north, from that created by Uncle Tom’s Cabin, down to the Forrest divorce trial. He was anxious to buy Uncle Tom’s Cabin, and was told that he had better buy a Bible. So he paid four dollars and a half for a Bible, and bought Uncle Tom too. I can not do less than recommend all my friends who may visit the cave, to try and secure Alfred for a guide.

“Leaving the vestibule and passing the Kentucky cliffs, so called from their likeness to the cliffs in Kentucky river, we come to what is very appropriately named the Church and Galleries. At various points upon the route thus far, we have seen the leaching vats and other remains of the saltpeter works that were erected in the cave nearly fifty years ago. The manufacture of saltpeter was carried on quite extensively in the cave for several years, and the guide says the saltpeter was manufactured here with which the powder was made which was used in the battle of New Orleans. There is a very plain cart-path through this part of the cave, and we saw the tracks of oxen which were made forty-seven years ago. The church is the point in the cave where the miners assembled for worship. The rude pulpit or stand from which the preacher addressed his congregation, still remains. But besides this there is a natural pulpit and galleries which are easily ascended by steps in the wall, from which sermons are now frequently preached to visitors, for whom seats are provided. When illuminated, this church is more awfully imposing and solemn, than any temple built by human hands. The cave is more than one hundred feet wide, its massive rocky walls about fifteen feet high, and stretching away in each direction until lost in the most impenetrable darkness. For myself, I could not understand how any man would consent to lift his puny voice where God speaks so impressively. But there is a difference in tastes, and many, I doubt not, are persuaded against their own will to gratify the strong desire of the visitors to hear preaching in the cave. Going on from this point we pass the Grand Arch, a natural arch sixty-six feet high, and about seventy yards wide, and one hundred and fifty yards long; and some distance beyond are shown the Giant’s Coffin. This is a huge rock, so formed that the top of it is a fine representation of a coffin. The shape is almost precisely that of a modern metallic coffin. This rock lies exactly east and west, by the compass, and is fifty-seven and a half feet long.

“Here we left the broad main cave in which we had thus far been traveling, and which stretched on indefinitely before us, and turned off into a narrow, circuitous, irregular avenue, and wandered indefinitely. Clambering over rocks, going down precipitous steeps, passing a great variety of rooms, lofty domes, intricate labyrinths, pits from seventy-five to one hundred and seventy-five feet deep, and a great many other points, all appropriately and often very significantly named, we at length came to Gorin’s Dome, so called from the name of its discoverer, by far the most imposing I had yet seen. Coming to the end of a narrow avenue, the guide directed me to look through an opening in the wall, a kind of window, and our lamps revealed hights above and depths below, that seemed interminable! He then kindled one of the lights that I have already described, and placing it upon a board, thrust it through the opening and told me to look, first below and then above. The view was utterly indescribable and almost overpowering. The opening was not more than thirty feet in circumference, and I have already forgotten the hight and depth as given me by the guide. But I felt for hours and still feel the tremblings of those emotions that thrilled through my whole frame as I peered into those abysmal depths, and looked up into those giddy hights. None but Jehovah could build such a dome.

“I can not undertake to give the details of our route from avenue to avenue, nor mention the various points of interest that we passed. We were at length in a vast open space; the guide took our lamps, and going a short distance from us, told us to look up, and we at once discovered that we were in the far-famed Star Chamber. The cave here is some twenty or thirty yards wide, and about sixty or seventy feet high, and in a dim light the arch above presents the appearance of the sky in a very starry night. On looking up you see innumerable stars, and as you gaze for a long time the sky seems to be very distant, the stars increase in number, and it seems quite as if you were really looking through an opening in the cave into the heavens. Our guide Alfred was with Professor Silliman when he examined this arch by the aid of a Drummond light, to discover the cause of this appearance, and found that it was crystals embedded in the wall. After we had satisfied ourselves with viewing this artificial sky, Alfred took all our lamps and going into a cave below us, by the shadows from his lamps gave us a representation of clouds passing over the sky, obscuring the stars, thunder-clouds rolling over and the stars appearing again, and other interesting illusions. After this he went still deeper in the cave below us, leaving us in the most pitchy darkness. We were so deep in the bowels of the earth that the loudest thunder has never been heard there, and the silence and darkness were awfully impressive. Suddenly we saw in the direction in which our guide had disappeared, a light like the rising of the moon, which grew larger and larger, until Alfred emerged through some opening from the regions below, and appeared in the distance in the same cave in which we were standing.

“After leaving this chamber, which was more beautiful than any we had entered, we made our way to the Gothic Gallery. This avenue was unlike anything we had yet seen. It is some four or five rods wide and three-quarters of a mile long, the path over which we walked being much more level than the most of those we had walked over, and much of the wall over our heads looking almost as smooth as if it had been plastered. In this avenue we visited the Haunted Chamber, so called from the fact that two mummies were discovered here many years ago; Vulcan’s Forge, so called from being very dark, and a formation resembling cinders; and near its end the Gothic Gallery. This room has a great variety of stalactite and stalagmite formations, many of which have formed solid massive pillars. As we approached the Chapel, our guide made us all stay behind, while he went ahead, taking all our lamps with him; and when we went forward at his call, we found each of our lamps hung upon some one of these pillars, and illuminating a room, compared with which Taylor’s saloon on Broadway, or the most gorgeous saloon New York can boast, is simplicity itself. These formations are a wonderful curiosity. They are of a very light color, are nearly as hard as granite, and are said to be formed by the drippings of lime water. They are in a great variety of shapes, to which a great many fanciful names have been given, such as the Pulpit, the Devil’s Arm-Chair, the Pillars of Hercules, &c.

“I had intended in this letter to speak of the chief points of interest in what is called the short route through the cave; that is, the portion of the cave that is visited without crossing either of the rivers. I made two visits on this side of the rivers, the first time traveling about six miles, and the second time traveling ten miles and a half. But I am the more willing to pass by the Bandit’s Hall, Mammoth Dome, Persico Avenue, Crockett’s Dome, Snowball Arch, Bunyan’s Way, and other places of special interest, with a mere mention of their names, from the fact that it is so entirely impossible to describe them. Some of these are but rarely visited, and it costs no little effort to reach them. But however narrow the fissures in the rocks through which we squeezed, however steep and slippery the ascent, however long the distance we had to crawl on our hands and knees, we were always more than paid for our pains.

“Omitting, then, any detailed account of what is called the short route, I pass to a notice of the long route, to which most of our time was given. In taking this we entered the cave as before, passed through the great vestibule, and on for a mile or two through the main branch, over the same route we had already traveled. It seems impossible to realize that this is a cave, it is so high, so wide, so vast. Several of our company remarked this fact. We seemed rather to be in some deep, dark ravine or mountain gorge, wandering by the light of our dim lamps, in some night that was utterly rayless and starless. We at length reached the Bottomless Pit, where we entered upon a path that was new to us. This pit is a deep, dark, fearful chasm, and received its name before anything like bottom had been found. It has now been measured to the depth of one hundred and seventy-five feet, and there may be fissures in the rock descending indefinitely below. Near this pit, we passed over an artificial bridge, and entered the Valley of Humility, through which we made our way, stooping and crawling, until we reached what is the most comical and laughable point in the cave, which is most appropriately named the Winding Way, or Fat Man’s Misery. This is an exceedingly circuitous opening in the rock, about eighteen inches wide, and between three and four hundred feet long. At the entrance of this way, the fissure through which we pass is not more than about two feet deep, and the ceiling above us is so high that we could stand erect without difficulty; but in advancing, the fissure becomes deeper, the rocks on either hand are higher and higher, and the ceiling above becomes lower and lower, and it seems to be, indeed, not only fat, but tall men’s misery. It is a most laughable sight to see a party edging their way through this zigzag path; a path that gives every indication of having been washed and worn by the action of the water for innumerable years. Our party was a decidedly lean one, so that we did not, like many others, have the amusement of seeing some one of aldermanic proportions squeeze and worry his way through. Finally, however, we got through, and came into a large open space, which our guide called Great Relief, and a relief it was, sure enough. Passing on, we entered a large, roomy avenue called River Hall, where we were shown the high-water mark in the cave; where, in times of freshets, the river rises fifty-seven feet, perpendicularly, above low-water mark in the cave. We turned aside from this hall into a large room, to witness a great curiosity called the Bacon Chamber. Here the formations overhead are such as to make the room look remarkably like a large smoke-house filled with hams; and near by we were shown a smooth circular excavation in the wall above us, which was pointed out as the kettle for boiling these hams, now turned bottom upward. Returning to the Hall, we went forward, passing several points of interest, until we came to a pure and beautiful body of water called Lake Lethe, upon which we embarked in a small boat provided for the purpose. We were now all on the look-out for the eyeless fish that are found in the waters of the cave, and were so fortunate as to catch in a small net, first, what was called a clawfish, having legs like a lobster, but eyeless and apparently bloodless, being almost precisely the color of potato sprouts that have grown in the spring in a dark cellar. Afterward we caught a very small fish of the same color, and having no eyes. Where the eyes should grow, the flesh was smooth and just like the rest of the body. Whatever our doubts might have been before, we here had ocular demonstration that the fish in these waters, which are never illumined except by lamplight, are entirely without sight.

“Leaving Lake Lethe, we entered a most grand and imposing avenue, with lofty rocky walls towering about two hundred and fifty feet high, called the Great Walk. This leads to the Echo River, one of the greatest of these subterranean wonders. We sailed down this river a distance of three-quarters of a mile, and such a sail! Where on the earth or under the earth, could another such a sail be taken? The water was cold, clear and pure, and in color remarkably like the Niagara, as it plunges over the falls. At many places we could see the bottom, and in others it seemed of very great depth. It flowed in placid stillness, unrippled by a single breeze, between, above and beneath walls of massive and eternal rock. Now the channel was deep, narrow and tortuous, and now it spread out into a broad, pellucid stream. Now the massive ceiling above us was high, and smooth, and beautifully arched; and now it was so rough, broken and low, that we had to stoop as we sat in our boat, in order to pass under it. We did not pass rapidly down this stream. None of us were in a hurry. We seemed scarcely to belong to this driving, go-ahead world. Now a shout echoed wildly and magnificently through the rocky chambers; and now we sat entranced while one of our company, a splendid musician, sang some beautiful song, never as beautiful as now, when it echoed and reëchoed along these walls, and died away in the darkness that our dim lamps could not penetrate. This river, too, is most appropriately named. The echoes are most perfect and beautiful. We experimented in a great variety of ways, singing alone and in concert, shouting, whistling, clapping our hands, and finally, the whole company sung Ortonville. But there was one thing more impressive than all these, and that was silence! We sat in our boat as quietly as possible, no one speaking or moving for some time; and the stillness and the darkness by which we were surrounded, were solemn and awful beyond all description. We were deep in the bowels of the earth, I know not how many feet below its surface, but so low that no ray of light from the sun had ever penetrated its depths, and no voice of loudest thunder had ever waked an echo there. The silence was perfect, save the sound of breathing which each one tried to suppress, and the throbbing of our hearts that

‘Still like muffled drums were beating, Funeral marches to the grave.’

“God spoke in that stillness with a voice such as I had never heard before. I had never before so realized how awfully impressive were darkness and silence. I had entirely new ideas of the awful solitude of that period when the ‘earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep.’

“On getting beyond this river, we entered a region of avenues of incredible if not of interminable length, which have been discovered within the last twelve or fifteen years. One of the first of these is called Silliman Avenue, in honor of Professor Silliman, who has made very thorough explorations of the cave. This avenue is a mile and a half long, about three rods wide, and has various interesting features which I have not time to notice. At the termination of this avenue, the cave widens into a large room, several rods wide, and some fifty or sixty feet high, which is called Ole Bull’s concert-room, from the fact that this musician gave a free concert there to the visitors who were at the cave at the time of his visit.

“Beyond this room, we entered an avenue two miles long, called the Pass of El Gor. This is an exceedingly rocky and uneven avenue, leading, by a most circuitous path up and down great piles of rock, along a most rugged and desolate way, near deep holes and fissures in the rocks, until at length we come to a fine sulphur spring called Hebe’s Spring, which we found very refreshing. Here, through a narrow opening in the rocks, we climb a ladder eighteen feet high, and find a scene that abundantly compensates for the rough walk we have taken to reach it. On reaching the top of this ladder, we find ourselves in Martha’s Vineyard. Here is a vast room, the sides of which are covered over with a formation resembling grapes. They hang on the wall above, plump, round and perfect in form, and in the greatest profusion. They are so solid and hard that it is difficult to break off any of the clusters, and are said to be formed by the drippings of the water through the rocks. Near the head of the ladder there is a fine representation of a vine, of solid rock, running along the wall; and apparently connected with this vine, there are seemingly cart-loads of these rocky grapes. Our guide illumined the vineyard with one of his Bengal lights, and the view was magnificent.

“Going on from this point through Elindo’s Avenue and Washington’s Hall, we reached another of the remarkable rooms of the cave, called the Snowball Room. The cave is here about a hundred feet wide, ten or fifteen feet high, and the ceiling quite even and beautifully arched. Nature has here played most fantastic tricks. I know of no way so good to describe this room, as to say that its walls and ceiling overhead look like the end of some building that a score of school-boys have completely covered over with snowballs. We examined these formations for some time with our lamps, and then Alfred gave us the benefit of an illumination. But of its appearance when thus lighted up, I will attempt no description.

“We were now about seven miles from the mouth of the cave; and with appetites sharpened by our long walk, we sat down to the dinner which our host had sent along for us. It was a magnificent dining-saloon in which we were seated. Taylor’s saloon on Broadway is splendid, and has dazzled and bewildered multitudes, when they first entered it; but neither Taylor, nor prince, nor potentate, ever built a room so gorgeous as that in which we were seated. None but the God who built the skies, and bent and decorated the arch above us, could build another comparable to it.

“The Snowball Room is at the entrance of an avenue more extensive and beautiful than any other in the cave. This is called Cleveland’s Cabinet, and is altogether indescribable. It is about five rods wide and two miles long! Think of its dimensions a moment! About as long as Broadway from the Battery to Union Square, and with walls, not of brick, granite and marble, shaped and graven by art and man’s device, but with walls and ceiling above covered all over with the exquisite and beautiful workmanship of its divine builder.

“We passed slowly through this cabinet, two miles long, the guide conducting us from point to point of remarkable interest, and all the way along showing us new and strange developments. We went to Mary’s Bower, Virginia’s Festoons, Saint Cecelia’s Grotto, Flora’s Garden, where were roses and lilies, rosettes and wreaths, as perfect as though they had been chiseled there by the most accomplished sculptor. The formation on the wall in which these various flowers and other beautiful things are developed, is gypsum of the most snowy whiteness; and our guide said it was in three separate layers, and that the forming process was constantly going on, the inner layers crowding off the outer. The floor was covered with tuns of these layers, which had been crowded off, and which visitors are at liberty to carry off as specimens, while they are strictly prohibited from breaking anything from the walls. But still it is with the utmost difficulty that the guides can preserve some of the most beautiful views in the cave from the destruction of vandal visitors. This part of the cave is less beautiful than formerly, having become a good deal smoked by the lamps of the thousands of visitors who have examined it. But our guide took us into an avenue immediately under this, which is but rarely visited, and conducted us to a most enchanting spot called Egeria’s Grotto. Here the formations were as pure, and beautiful and white, as if fresh from the hand of their Maker. Here were formations, not only of the purest white, but of other most exquisite coloring. We remained a long time in this grotto, examining its various wonders, and deemed ourselves very fortunate in seeing it, as from this we could better understand how Cleveland’s Cabinet above us appeared during the long ages that intervened before it was polluted by the presence of man. Another beautiful grotto was perfectly brilliant and gorgeous, and looked as though its rough walls were a solid mass of diamonds. The most gorgeous and brilliant room ever built in the palace of an earthly monarch, is tameness itself compared with this diamond grotto.

“Emerging again into Cleveland’s Cabinet, we passed on to its termination, where we ascended the Rocky Mountains, a vast pile of loose, broken rocks, one hundred and sixty feet high, which have apparently dropped down from the cave above, leaving a vast vaulted opening in the cave above, to indicate the place from which they have fallen. Beyond these mountains, the cave branches in three directions. We took the branch leading to Croghan’s Hall, the remotest point in the cave that has yet been visited, and nine miles from its mouth. On the right of this room there is a deep, awful pit, into which we threw stones, as we had into many others, and heard them roll and bound from rock to rock, down a distance of one hundred and eighty-five feet. The water from some point below us runs over these rocks, and flows off, no mortal knows where. This hall contains large, massive pillars, elaborately carved and ornamented by the Invisible Architect, stalactites and stalagmites of various beautiful forms, and its walls are festooned with that rich drapery which no art can imitate, and which only decks the grottos, bowers and halls of this wonderful cave.

“After refreshing ourselves here from a pleasant spring, we started on our nine-mile tramp for the mouth of the cave, taking only a hurried glance of the varied objects of interest as we passed them. We, however, sailed very leisurely down Echo River, or the Jordan, as it is also called. We again had solos and choruses, and drank in rich delights from this enchanting sail. When we reached Lethe, some of our party determined to send their clothes across in our boat and swim over. They accordingly plunged in very boldly, but hurried out in the quickest time possible; and the chattering of teeth, shivering, leaping and running to get warm again, seemed more befitting a bath in February, than in one of the hottest days in August.

“I had now made four different visits to the cave, traveling, according to the reckoning of my guide, about fifty-four miles. Very few visitors explore it as thoroughly, and yet I had not gone over one-third of the space that has already been explored. The guide says that two hundred and fifty different avenues are already known, measuring the distance of one hundred and sixty-five miles. The temperature of the cave is uniformly about fifty-five degrees, and its bracing, invigorating character may be judged from the fact that ladies, some of them quite delicate, are constantly taking this ‘long route,’ traveling a greater number of miles than most men would think of going on foot above ground.

“We felt but little fatigue from our rough, clambering walk of some twenty miles, until we emerged from the cave, and came in contact with outer air. After breathing the air of the cave from eight A. M. till five P. M., the atmosphere seemed very impure. We could smell every tree, and plant, and old log; and the air was so sultry and sickening, that we had to rest awhile at the mouth before starting for the hotel, some fifty rods distant.

“I have thus attempted to redeem my promise in regard to writing you from the cave. I had no thought of writing at so great length. If the cave were possessed of mind and sensibility, I would take off my hat to it, and feelingly ask its pardon for the great injustice I have done it in these letters. But as it is, I will only say that I have over and over again assented to the truthfulness and justice of my guide Alfred’s idea of all descriptions of the cave: ‘Writin don’t do no good. If anybody wants to know how the cave looks, they must come and see it.’ And I can not conceive of any journey for this purpose so long and toilsome, that those making it would not be abundantly compensated for their pains, by a view of this wonderful work of a wonder-working God.”

Still another visitor, writing to a friend in Europe, says of this wonderful cave, “I had heard and read descriptions of it, long since; but the half, the quarter, was not told. Its vastness, its lofty arches, its immense reach into the bosom of the solid earth, fill me with astonishment. It is, like Mont Blanc, Chimborazo, and the falls of Niagara, one of God’s mightiest works. Shall I compare it with anything of a similar description, which you have seen on the other side of the Atlantic? with the grotto of Neptune, or that of the Sibyl, at Tivoli, or with any of Virgil’s poetic Italian machinery? No comparison can be instituted. I speak, as you are aware, from personal knowledge. You, seated on the opposite bank of the Arno, have seen me clamber up, from the noisy waters below, to the entrance of the far-famed grotto of Neptune, which I leisurely explored. In point of capaciousness, that grotto has little more to boast of than the cellar of a large hotel, and, like that, was, as I think, excavated by human hands. That of the Tiburtine Sibyl is still more limited in its dimensions. Indeed, every cavern which I have ever seen, if placed along side of this, would dwindle into insignificance.”

The same writer says, “I can not refrain from giving you an account of an incident that happened in this cave last spring. A wedding party went to the cave to spend the honeymoon. While there, they went to visit those beautiful portions of the cave which lie beyond the river ‘Jordan.’ In order to do this, a person has to sail down the river nearly a mile before reaching the avenue which leads off from the river on the opposite side, for there is no shore, or landing-place, between the point above on this side, where you come to the river, and that below on the other; for the river fills the whole width of one avenue of the cave, and is several feet deep where the side walls descend into the water. This party had descended the river, visited the cave beyond, and had again embarked on the water for their return homeward. After they had ascended the river about half-way, some of the party, who were in a high glee, got into a romp and overturned the boat. Their lights were all extinguished, their matches wet, the boat filled with water and sunk immediately; and there they were, in ‘the blackness of darkness,’ up to their chins in water. No doubt, they would all have been lost, had it not been for the guide’s great presence of mind. He charged them to remain perfectly still; for, if they moved a single step, they might get out of their depth in water; and swimming would not avail them, for they could not see where to swim to. He knew that, if they could bear the coldness of the water any length of time, they would be safe; for another guide would be sent from the cave house, to see what had become of them. And in this perilous condition, up to their mouths in water, in the midst of darkness ‘more than night,’ four miles under ground, they remained for upward of five hours; at the end of which time, another guide came to their relief. Matthew, or Mat, the guide who rescued them, told me that, when he got to where they were, his fellow-guide, Stephen, (the Columbus of the cave,) was swimming around the rest of the party, cheering them, and directing his movements, while swimming, by the sound of their voices, which were raised, one and all, in prayer and supplication for deliverance!”

In conclusion it may be interesting to state, that Colonel Croghan, to whose family the Mammoth cave belongs, was a resident of Louisville, Kentucky. He went to Europe some twenty years ago, and found himself frequently questioned of the wonders of the Mammoth cave, a place he had never visited, and of which he had heard but little at home, though living within ninety miles of it. He went there on his return, and the idea struck him to purchase it, and make it a family inheritance. In fifteen minutes’ bargaining he bought it for ten thousand dollars, and shortly after he was offered one hundred thousand dollars for his purchase. In his will he tied it up in such a way that it must remain in his family for two generations, thus appending its celebrity to his name. There are nineteen hundred acres in the estate, though the cave probably runs under the property of a great number of other land owners. For fear of those who might dig down and establish an entrance to the cave on their own property, (a man’s farm extending up to the zenith and down to the nadir,) great vigilance is exercised to prevent such subterranean surveys and measurements as would enable one to sink a shaft with any certainty. The cave extends ten or twelve miles in several directions, and there is probably many a back-woodsman sitting in his hut within ten miles of the cave, quite unconscious that the most fashionable ladies and gentlemen of Europe and America are walking without leave under his potatoes and corn.

THE GREAT CAVERN OF GUACHARO.

Passing from the Mammoth cave in North America, let us next notice the great cavern of Guacharo in South America, as described in the narrative of Humboldt, which is abridged in the account that follows.

“In a country where the people are fond of the marvelous, a cavern that gives birth to a river, and which is inhabited by thousands of nocturnal birds, the fat of which is used to dress the food of the inhabitants, is a ceaseless topic of conversation and discussion. Scarcely has a stranger arrived at Cumana, when he is told of the stone of Araya for the eyes; of the laborer of Arenas who suckled his child; and of the cavern of Guacharo, which is said to be several leagues in length; till he is tired of hearing of them.

“The Cueva del Guacharo is pierced in the vertical profile of a rock. The entrance is toward the south, and forms a vault eighty feet broad, and seventy-two feet high. The rock, that surmounts the grotto, is covered with trees of gigantic hight. The mammee-tree, and the genipa with large and shining leaves, raise their branches vertically toward the sky; while those of the courbaril and the erythrina form, as they extend themselves, a thick vault of verdure. Plants of the family of pothos with succulent stems, oxalises, and orchideæ of a singular structure, rise in the driest cliffs of the rocks; while creeping plants, waving in the winds, are interwoven in festoons before the opening of the cavern. We distinguished in these festoons a bignonia of a violet blue, the purple dolichos, and for the first time that magnificent olandra, the orange flower of which has a fleshy tube more than four inches long. The entrances of grottos, like the view of cascades, derive their principal charm from the situation, more or less majestic, in which they are placed, and which in some sort determines the character of the landscape. What a contrast between the Cueva of Caripe, and those caverns of the north crowned with oaks and gloomy larch-trees!

“But this luxury of vegetation embellishes not only the outside of the vault, it appears even in the vestibule of the grotto. One sees with astonishment plantain-leaved heliconias eighteen feet high, the praga palm-tree, and arborescent arums, follow the banks of the river even to those subterranean places. The vegetation continues in the cave of Caripe, as in the deep crevices of the Andes, half excluded from the light of day; and does not disappear, till, advancing into the interior, we reach thirty or forty paces from the entrance. We measured the way by means of a cord; and we went on about four hundred and thirty feet, without being obliged to light our torches.

“Daylight penetrates into this region, because the grotto forms but one single channel, which keeps the same direction from south-east to north-west. Where the light begins to fail, are heard from afar the hoarse sounds of the nocturnal birds, sounds which the natives think belong exclusively to those subterraneous places. The guacharo is of the size of our fowls, has the mouth of the goatsuckers and procnias, and the port of those vultures, the crooked beak of which is surrounded with stiff silky hairs. It forms a new genus, very different from the goatsucker by the force of its voice, by the considerable strength of its beak, containing a double tooth, and by its feet without the membranes that unite the anterior phalanxes of the claws. In its manners it has analogies both to the goatsuckers and the alpine crow. The plumage of the guacharo is of a dark bluish-gray, mixed with small streaks and specks of black. It is difficult to form an idea of the horrible noise occasioned by thousands of these birds in the dark part of the cavern, and which can only be compared to the croaking of our crows, which, in the pine forests of the north, live in society, and construct their nests upon trees, the tops of which touch each other. The shrill and piercing cries of the guacharoes strike upon the vaults of the rocks, and are repeated by the echo in the depth of the cavern. The Indians showed us the nests of these birds, by fixing torches to the end of a long pole. These nests were fifty or sixty feet high above our heads, in holes in the shape of funnels, with which the roof of the grotto is pierced like a sieve. The noise increased as we advanced, and the birds were affrighted by the light of the torches of copal. When this noise ceased around us, we heard at a distance the plaintive cries of the birds roosting in other ramifications of the cavern. It seemed as if these bands answered each other alternately.

“The Indians enter into the Cueva del Guacharo once a year, near midsummer, armed with poles, by means of which they destroy the greater part of the nests. At this season several thousands of birds are killed; and the old ones, to defend their brood, hover around the heads of the savage Indians, uttering terrible cries, which would appall any heart but that of man in an untutored state.

“We followed, as we continued our progress through the cavern, the banks of the small river which issued from it, and is from twenty-eight to thirty feet wide. We walked on the banks, as far as the hills formed of calcareous incrustations permitted us. When the torrent wound among very high masses of stalactites, we were often obliged to descend into its bed, which is only two feet in depth. We learned with surprise, that this subterraneous rivulet is the origin of the river Caripe, which, at a few leagues’ distance, after having joined the small river of Santa Maria, is navigable for canoes. It enters into the river Areo under the name of Canno de Terezen. We found on the banks of the subterraneous rivulet a great quantity of palm-tree wood, the remains of trunks, on which the Indians climb to reach the nests hanging to the roofs of the cavern. The rings, formed by the vestiges of the old footstalks of the leaves, furnish as it were the footsteps of a ladder perpendicularly placed.

“The grotto of Caripe preserves the same direction, the same breadth, and its primitive hight of sixty or seventy feet, to the distance of fourteen hundred and fifty-eight feet, accurately measured. I have never seen a cavern in either continent, of so uniform and regular a construction. We had great difficulty in persuading the Indians to pass beyond the outer part of the grotto, the only part which they annually visit to collect the fat. The whole authority of the priests was necessary, to induce them to advance as far as the spot where the soil rises abruptly at an inclination of sixty degrees, and where the torrent forms a small subterraneous cascade.[3] The natives connect mystic ideas with this cave, inhabited by nocturnal birds; they believe, that the souls of their ancestors sojourn in the deep recesses of the cavern. ‘Man,’ say they, ‘should avoid places which are enlightened neither by the sun nor by the moon.’ To go and join the guacharoes, is to rejoin their fathers, is to die. The magicians and the poisoners perform their nocturnal tricks at the entrance of the cavern, to conjure the chief of the evil spirits.

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Footnote 3:

We find this phenomenon of a subterranean cascade, but on a much larger scale, in England, at Yordas cave, near Kingsdale, in Yorkshire.

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“At the point where the river forms the subterraneous cascade, a hill covered with vegetation, which is opposite the opening of the grotto, presents itself in a very picturesque manner. It appears at the extremity of a straight passage, two hundred and forty toises in length. The stalactites, which descend from the vault, and which resemble columns suspended in the air, display themselves on a back-ground of verdure. The opening of the cavern appeared singularly contracted, when we saw it about the middle of the day, illumined by the vivid light reflected at once from the sky, the plants, and the rocks. The distant light of day formed somewhat of a magical contrast with the darkness that surrounded us in those vast caverns. We climbed, not without some difficulty, the small hill, whence the subterraneous rivulet descends. We saw that the grotto was perceptibly contracted, retaining only forty feet in its hight; and that it continued stretching to the northeast, without deviating from its primitive direction, which is parallel to that of the great valley of Caripe.

“The missionaries, with all their authority, could not prevail on the Indians to penetrate farther into the cavern. As the vault grew lower, the cries of the guacharoes became more shrill. We were obliged to yield to the pusillanimity of our guides, and trace back our steps. We followed the course of the torrent to go out of the cavern. Before our eyes were dazzled with the light of day, we saw without the grotto, the water of the river sparkling amid the foliage of the trees that concealed it. It was like a picture placed in the distance, and to which the mouth of the cavern served as a frame. Having at length reached the entrance, and seated ourselves on the bank of the rivulet, we rested after our fatigues. We were glad to be beyond the hoarse cries of the birds, and to leave a place where darkness does not offer even the charms of silence and tranquillity.”

FINGAL’S CAVE,

OR GRAND STAFFA CAVERN.

Staffa, about seven miles north-north-east of Jona, and equidistant westward from the shores of Mull, about one mile in length, and half a mile in breadth, is noted for the basaltic pillars which support the major part of the island, and for the magnificent spectacle afforded by the cave of Fingal, one of the most splendid works of nature.

Notwithstanding the contiguity of this wonderful island to Mull and Iona, and the numerous vessels which navigate these seas, it was unknown to the world in general, and even to most of the neighboring islanders, until near the close of the last century, when Sir Joseph Banks, then on his voyage to Iceland, in consequence of information received in the sound of Iona, from some gentlemen of Mull, was induced to sail thither. It is, indeed, slightly mentioned by Buchanan; but assuredly it was not equally dead to fame at the time the Norwegians had sway in these parts, for from them it derives its name of Staffa.

The basaltic pillars stand in natural colonnades, mostly above fifty feet high, in the south-western part, upon a firm basis of solid unshapen rock: above these, the stratum, which reaches to the soil of the island, varies in thickness, in proportion to the distribution of the surface into hill and valley. The pillars are of three, four and more sides; but the number of those with five and six exceeds that of the others; one of seven sides measured by Sir Joseph, was four feet and five inches in diameter.

On the west side of Staffa is a small bay, the spot where boats usually land. In this neighborhood occurs the first group of pillars: they are small, and instead of being placed upright, are recumbent on their sides, and form a segment of a circle. Further on is a small cave, above which pillars again are seen, of somewhat larger dimensions, which incline in all directions; in one place in particular, a small mass of them much resembles the ribs of a ship. Beyond the cave is the first continued range of pillars, larger than the former, and opposite to them is a small island called Bhuachaile, (pronounced Boo-sha-’lay,) or the Herdsman’s isle, separated from the main by a channel not many fathoms wide. The whole of this islet is composed of pillars without any strata above them; they are small, but by much the neatest formed of any in this quarter.

The first division of this islet, for at high tide it is divided into two parts, makes a kind of cone, the pillars converging together toward the center. On the other side the pillars are in general recumbent; and in the front, next the main, the beautiful manner in which they are joined is visible from their even extremities: all these have their transverse sections exact, and their surfaces smooth; but with the larger pillars the reverse is the case, and they are cracked in all directions.

The main island opposite the Boo-sha-’lay, and thence toward the north-west, is entirely supported by ranges of pillars, pretty erect, which, although not apparently tall, from their not being uncovered to the base, are of large diameter; at their feet is an irregular pavement, made by the upper sides of such as have been broken off. This extends as far under the water as the eye can reach.

In proceeding along the shore, the superb cavern of Fingal appears, for such is the denomination given it by the Highlanders, to whom it is known. It is supported on each side by ranges of columns, and is roofed by the bottoms of such as have been broken away. From the interstices of the roof a yellow stalactitic matter has exuded, which precisely defines the different angles; and, varying the color, tends to augment the elegance of its appearance. What adds to the grandeur of the scene, the whole cave is lighted from without, in such a manner, that the furthest extremity is plainly distinguished; while the air within, being constantly in motion, owing to the flux and reflux of the tides, is perfectly dry and wholesome, and entirely exempt from the damp vapors to which natural caverns are generally subject. The following are its dimensions:

Feet. In. Length of the cave from the rock without, 371 6 Length of the cave from the pitch of the arch, 250 0 Breadth of the cave at the mouth, 53 7 Breadth of the cave at the further end, 20 0 Hight of the arch at the mouth, 117 6 Hight of the arch at the end, 70 0 Hight of an outside pillar, 39 6 Hight of one at the north-west corner, 54 0 Depth of water at the mouth, 18 0 Depth of water at the extremity, 9 0

The cave runs to the rock in the direction, by compass, north-north-east.

The mind can hardly form an idea more magnificent than such a space. And, indeed, speaking of the general aspect of Staffa, Sir Joseph is led, by his enthusiasm, to make the following reflections: “Compared to this, what are the cathedrals or the palaces built by man! mere models or playthings, imitations as diminutive as his works will always be, when compared to those of Nature. Where is now the boast of the architect! regularity, the only part in which he fancied himself to exceed his mistress, Nature, is here found in her possession, and here it has been left undescribed for ages. Is not this the school where the art was originally studied? And what has been added to this by the whole Grecian school? A capital to ornament the column of Nature, of which they could execute a model only; and for that very capital they were obliged to a bush of acanthus. How amply does Nature repay those who study her wonderful works.”

Such were his feelings, and in this way did he moralize, when proceeding along shore, and treading as it were on another Giant’s Causeway, he arrived at the mouth of the cave.

To the north-west are found the highest range of pillars. Here they are bare to their base, and the stratum beneath is visible, as it rises several feet above the water. The surface of it is rough, with frequent large pieces of stone sticking in it, as if half immersed. The base, when broken, appears to be composed of many heterogenous parts, and much resembles lava. Many of the floating stones are of a similar substance with the pillars, a coarse kind of basalt, less beautiful than that of the Giant’s Causeway: the color is a dirty brown. The whole of this stratum dips gradually to the south-east.

The thickness of the stratum of lava-like matter below the pillars, the hight of the pillars, and the thickness of the superincumbent stratum, at three different places westward of the mouth of the cave, beginning with the corner pillar of the cave, are described as follows by Sir Joseph Banks:

Feet. In. Feet. In. Feet. In. Stratum below, 11 0 17 1 19 8 Hight of pillars, 54 0 50 0 55 1 Stratum above, 61 6 51 1 54 7

The stratum above the columns is uniformly the same, consisting of numberless small pillars, bending and inclining in all directions, sometimes so irregularly, that the stones can only be said to have an inclination to assume a columnar form; in others more regularly; but never breaking into, or disturbing the stratum of large pillars, whose tops keep everywhere an uniform line. On the opposite side of the island is a cavern, called Oua-na-scarve, or the Cormorant’s cave; here the stratum under the pillars is lifted up very high, and the pillars are considerably less than at the north-west side. Beyond, a bay cuts deep into the island, rendering it not more than a quarter of a mile across. On the sides of this bay, especially beyond a little valley, which almost divides the island, are two stages of small pillars, with a stratum between, exactly resembling that above, formed of innumerable little pillars shaken out of their places, and leaning in all directions. Beyond this, the pillars totally cease. The rock is of a dark-brown stone, without regularity, from the bay along the south-east end of the island; beyond which, a disposition to columnar formation is again manifested, extending from the west side, but in an irregular manner, to the bending pillars first described.

OTHER GROTTOS AND CAVERNS.

There are few countries which have not to boast of a variety of natural excavations; and these have, from their extent, structure, and the curious phenomena they exhibit, in the formation of petrifactions, &c., been at all times objects of popular attention. Among those particularly deserving of notice are the following.

The volcanic country bordering on Rome, is peculiarly diversified by natural cavities of great extent and coolness; on which last account it is related by Seneca, that the Romans were accustomed to erect seats in their vicinity, to enjoy their refreshing chillness in the summer season. He gives a particular account of two such grottos belonging to the villa of Vatia; and it was in a place of this kind that Tiberius was nearly destroyed while at supper. Its roof suddenly gave way, and buried several of his attendants in its ruins; which so alarmed the others, that they fled and abandoned the emperor, with the exception of Sejanus, who, stooping on his hands and knees, and covering the body of Tiberius with his own, received all the stones which fell at that part from the roof, insomuch that, although he himself sustained considerable injury, the emperor escaped unhurt.

The grottos of the Cevennes mountains, in lower Languedoc, are both numerous and extensive. The principal one is not to be explored without much precaution, and without a safe guide. The entrance, which is low and narrow, leads to a spacious amphitheater, the petrifactions hanging from the roof of which have a most splendid effect by the light of torches. Hence the visitor has to descend to several chambers, one of which is named the Chamber of the Winds; another, of Echo; another, of the Cascade; another, again, of the Statue, &c.; on account of their exhibiting these different phenomena. In the grotto of Valori, at a small distance, the different natural curiosities which are to be found at every step, may be viewed at leisure, and without apprehension, as the visitor never loses sight of the light at the entrance, and is, therefore, not under any dread of not returning in safety. Here he is gratified by a view of the most singular petrifactions, representing flowers, fruits, bee-hives, and, in short, a variety of objects, in many of which the resemblance is nearly as accurate as if they had been sculptured.

In a wood, about five leagues from Besançon, in the province of France called Franche Comte, an opening, formed by two masses of rock, leads to a cavern more than nine hundred feet beneath the level of the country. It is in width sixty feet, and eighty feet high at the entrance, and exhibits inside an oval cavity of one hundred and thirty-five feet in breadth, and one hundred and sixty-eight in length. To the right of the entrance is a deep and narrow opening, bordered with festoons of ice, which, distilling in successive drops on the bottom of the cavern, form a mass of about thirty feet in diameter. A similar one, but somewhat smaller, produced by the water which drips in less abundance from the imperceptible fissures in the roof, is seen on the left. The ground of the cavern is perfectly smooth, and covered with ice eighteen inches thick; but the top, on the outside, is a dry and stony soil, covered with trees, and on a level with the rest of the wood. The cold within this cavern is so great, that, however warm the external atmosphere may be when it is visited, it is impossible to remain in it for any length of time.

These natural ice-houses are not unfrequent in France and Italy, and supply this agreeable luxury at a very cheap rate. Thus, in the same province, in the vicinity of Vesoul, is a cavern which, in the hot season, when it is eagerly sought, produces more ice in one day, than can be carried away in eight. It measures thirty-five feet in length, and in width sixty. The large masses of ice which hang pendent from the roof, have a very pleasing effect. When mists are observed in this cavern, they are regarded by the neighboring peasantry as infallible prognostics of rain; and it is worthy of observation, that although the water in the interior is always frozen in the summer, it becomes liquid in the winter season.

A grotto near Douse, also in Franche Comte, forms a similar ice-house, and is remarkable on account of the various forms of its congelations, which represent a series of columns, sustaining a curious vault, which appears to be carved with figures of men, animals, trees, &c.

The caverns of Gibraltar are numerous, and several of them of great extent. The one more particularly deserving attention is called St. Michael’s cave, situated on the southern part of the mountain. Its entrance is one thousand feet above the level of the sea, and is formed by a rapid slope of earth, which has fallen in at various periods, and which leads to a spacious hall, incrusted with spar, and apparently supported in the center by a large stalactitical pillar. To this succeeds a long series of caves, of difficult access. The passages leading from the one to the other are over precipices, which can not be passed without the aid of ropes and scaling-ladders. Several of these caves are three hundred feet beneath the upper one; but at this depth the smoke of the torches carried by the guides becomes so disagreeable, that the visitor is obliged reluctantly to give up the pursuit, and leave other caves unexplored. In these cavernous recesses, the process and formation of the stalactites is to be traced, from the flimsy quilt-like cone suspended from the roof, to the robust trunk of a pillar, three feet in diameter, which rises from the floor, and seems intended by nature to support the roof from which it originated.

The variety of forms which this matter takes in its different situations and directions, renders this subterraneous scenery strikingly grotesque, and in some places beautifully picturesque. The stalactites of these caves, when near the surface of the mountain, are of a brownish yellow color; but, in descending toward the lower caves, they lose the darkness of their color, which is by degrees shaded off to a pale yellow. Fragments are broken off, and, when wrought into different forms, and polished, are beautifully streaked and marbled.

About seven English miles from Adlersberg, in Carniola, is a remarkable cavern, named St. Magdalen’s cave. The road being covered with stones and bushes, is very painful; but the great fatigue it occasions is overbalanced by the satisfaction of seeing so uncommon a cavern. The visitor first descends into a hole, where the earth appears to have fallen in for ten paces, when he reaches the entrance, which resembles a fissure caused by an earthquake, in a huge rock. The torches are here lighted, the cave being extremely dark. This wonderful natural excavation is divided into several large halls, and other apartments. The vast number of pillars by which it is ornamented give it a superb appearance, and are extremely beautiful: they are as white as snow, and have a semi-transparent luster. The bottom is of the same materials; insomuch that the visitor may fancy he is walking beneath the ruins of some stately palace, amid noble pillars and columns, partly mutilated, and partly entire. Sparry icicles are everywhere seen suspended from the roof, in some places resembling wax tapers, which, from their radiant whiteness, appear extremely beautiful. All the inconvenience here arises from the inequality of the surface, which may make the spectator stumble while he is contemplating the beauties above and around him.

In the neighborhood of the village of Szelitze, in Upper Hungary, there is a very singular excavation. The adjacent country is hilly, and abounds with woods, the air being cold and penetrating. The entrance into this cavern, fronting the south, is upward of one hundred feet in hight, and forty-eight in breadth, consequently sufficiently wide to receive the south wind, which here generally blows with great violence; but the subterraneous passages, which consist entirely of solid rock, winding round, stretch still farther to the south. As far as they have been explored, their hight has been found to be three hundred feet, and their breadth about one hundred and fifty. The most inexplicable singularity, however, is, that in the midst of winter the air in this cavern is warm; and when the heat of the sun without is scarcely supportable, the cold within is not only very piercing, but so intense, that the roof is covered with icicles of the size of a large cask, which, spreading into ramifications, form very grotesque figures. When the snow melts in spring, the inside of the cave, where its surface is exposed to the south sun, emits a pellucid water, which congeals instantly as it drops, and thus forms the above icicles: even the water which falls from them on the sandy ground, freezes in an instant. It is observed, that the greater the heat is without, the more intense is the cold within; so that, in the dog-days, every part of this cavern is covered with ice. In autumn, when the nights become cold, the ice begins to dissolve, insomuch that, when the winter sets in, it is no longer to be seen; the cavern then is perfectly dry, and has a mild and gentle warmth. It is, therefore, not surprising that swarms of flies, gnats, bats, owls, and even great numbers of foxes and hares, resort thither, as to their winter retreat, and remain there till the return of spring.

MINES, METALS, GEMS, &C.

“Through dark retreats pursue the winding ore, Search nature’s depths, and view the boundless store; The secret cause in tuneful numbers sing, How metals first were framed, and whence they spring: Whether the active sun, with chymic flames, Through porous earth transmits his genial beams With heat impregnating the womb of night The offspring shines with his paternal light: Or whether, urged by subterraneous flames, The earth ferments and flows in liquid streams; Purged from their dross, the nobler parts refine, Receive new forms, and with new beauty shine: Or whether by creation first they sprung, When yet unpoised the world’s great fabric hung: Metals the bases of the earth were made, The bars on which its fixed foundation’s laid: All second causes they disdain to own, And from the Almighty’s fiat sprung alone.”

The transition from the caverns and caves of the earth, to its MINES, and the various metals and gems they contain, is both natural and easy; and having dwelt on the former, we propose next to advert to the latter. By the word “mines” we understand those excavations, in which metals, minerals and precious stones are sought and found; and according to the substances which they yield they are variously spoken of as “gold mines,” “silver mines,” “lead mines,” &c., &c. The richest and most celebrated gold and silver mines are those of Mexico and Peru, in South America, and those lately discovered in California and Australia. Iron mines are more abundant, or at least more abundantly worked, in Europe than elsewhere, though the rapid increase of iron mining in the United States gives promise that our country may in this respect some day rival the old world. Copper mines have been found chiefly in England, Sweden and Denmark; and of late years copper has been found to be abundant in the region of our northern lakes. Lead and tin mines are numerous in England, the latter chiefly in the county of Cornwall; and lead is also found in abundance in the United States. Quicksilver mines abound principally in Hungary, Spain, Friuli, in the Venetian territories, and in Peru. Diamond mines are mainly in Brazil, and some in the East Indies; and salt mines are in Poland.

To explain the structure of mines, it should be observed that the internal parts of the earth, as far as they have been investigated, do not consist of any one uniform substance, but of various strata, or beds of substances, extremely different in their appearances, specific gravities and chemical qualities, one from another. Neither are these strata similar to each other, either in their nature or appearance, in different countries; insomuch that, even in the short extent of half a mile, sometimes, the strata will be found quite different in one from what they are in another place. As little are they the same either in depth or solidity. Innumerable cracks and fissures are found in all of them; and these again are so entirely different in size and shape, that it is impossible to form any inference from what may have been met with, relative to that which remains to be explored.

In Cornwall, the most common opinion entertained by the miners, is, that crude and immature minerals nourish and feed the ores with which they are intermixed in the mines; and that the minerals themselves will, in process of time, be converted into ores productive of those metals to which they have the nearest affinity, and with which they are most closely intermingled. And a distinguished professor, who is familiar alike with geology, chemistry and mineralogy, after visiting the mining districts of California, has given it as his opinion, that gold is constantly being formed there, by some powerful agency of nature which is still and steadily at work. And as a somewhat kindred view, Mr. Price, in his mineralogy of Cornwall, thinks it is most reasonable to conclude, that metals were made and planted in veins, at, or very soon after, the creation of the world; but that, in common with all other matter, they are subject to a degree of fluctuation, approaching to, or receding from, their ultimate degree of perfection, either quicker or slower, as they are of greater or less solid and durable frame and constitution. He supposes in every metal a peculiar magnetism, and an approximation of particles of the same specific nature, by which its component principles are drawn and united together; more particularly the matters left by the decomposition of the waters passing through the contiguous earths or strata, and deposited in their proper nidus or receptacle, until, by the accretion of more or less of its homogeneous particles, the metallic vein may be denominated either rich or barren.

DIAMOND MINES.

The word diamond, is supposed to be a corruption of the word adamant, in allusion to the great hardness of this gem, which is the most valuable of all the precious stones. Diamonds were originally discovered in Bengal, and in the island of Borneo; and about the year 1720, were found in Brazil. They are found of all colors; and those which are colorless, or of some decided tint, are most esteemed, though the latter kind are very rare. Those which are slightly discolored are the least valuable.

The specific gravity of the diamond, is, to that of water, in the proportion of about three and a half to one. It is the hardest of all known substances, and can only be cut and polished by its own dust or powder. The art of splitting or cutting and polishing this gem, though probably of remote antiquity in Asia, was first introduced into Europe in 1486, by Louis Berghan, of Bruges, who accidentally discovered that by rubbing two diamonds together, their surfaces might be rendered smooth. And the fine powder which is rubbed off by such friction, serves to grind and polish them. The diamond is of the nature of charcoal, or pure carbon, and is combustible: under the blow-pipe it burns away in a blue, lambent flame.

The high value attached to diamonds does not depend so much on their beauty and hardness, as on their great scarcity, and the labor and expense necessary in procuring them. Hitherto they have been observed only in the torrid zone; and Brazil is the only part of America in which they have been found. The historical account of their discovery in that country is as follows. Near the capital of the territory of Serro do Frio flows the river Milho Verde, where it was the custom to dig for gold, or rather to extract it from the alluvial soil. The miners, during their search for gold, found several diamonds, which they were induced to lay aside in consequence of their particular shape and great beauty, although they were ignorant of their intrinsic value.

The diamond works on the river Jigitonhonha are described by Mr. Mawe as the most important in the Brazilian territory. The river, in depth from three to nine feet, is intersected by a canal, beneath the head of which it is stopped by an embankment of several thousand bags of sand, its deeper parts being laid dry by chain-pumps. The mud is now washed away, and the =cascalhao=, or earth which contains the diamonds, dug up, and removed to a convenient place for washing. The process, which is as follows, is seen in the cut on the next page. A shed, consisting of upright posts which support a thatched roof, is erected in the form of a parallelogram, in length about ninety feet, and in width forty-five. Down the middle of its area a current of water is conveyed through a canal covered with strong planks, on which the earth is laid to the thickness of two or three feet. On the other side of the area is a flooring of planks, from twelve to fifteen feet in length, imbedded in clay, extending the whole length of the shed, and having a gentle slope from the canal. This flooring is divided into about twenty compartments, or troughs, each about three feet wide, by means of planks placed on their edges; and the upper ends of these troughs communicate with the canal, being so formed that water is admitted into them between two planks about an inch separate from each other. Through this opening the current falls about six inches into the trough, and may be directed to any part of it, or stopped at pleasure, by means of a small quantity of clay. Along the lower ends of the troughs a small channel is dug, to carry off the water.

On the heap of earth, at equal distances, three high chairs are placed for the overseers, who are no sooner seated than the negroes enter the troughs, each provided with a rake of a peculiar form, and having a short handle, with which he rakes into the trough from fifty to eighty pounds’ weight of the earth. The water being then allowed to pass in by degrees, the earth is spread abroad, and continually raked up to the head of the trough, so as to be kept in constant motion. This operation is continued for a quarter of an hour, when the water begins to run clearer; and, the earthy particles having been washed away, the gravel-like matter is raked up to the end of the trough. At length the current flowing quite clear, the largest stones are thrown out, and afterward those of an inferior size; the whole is then examined with great care for diamonds. When a negro finds one, he instantly stands upright, and claps his hands; he then extends them, holding the gem between the fore-finger and the thumb. An overseer receives it from him, and deposits it in a bowl, suspended from the center of the structure, and half filled with water. In this vessel all the diamonds found in the course of the day are deposited, and at the close of the work are taken out and delivered to the principal overseer, who, after they have been weighed, registers the particulars in a book kept for that purpose.

When a negro is so fortunate as to find a diamond of the weight of seventeen carats and a half, the following ceremony takes place: he is crowned with a wreath of flowers, and carried in procession to the administrator, who gives him his freedom by paying his owner for it. He also receives a present of new clothes, and is permitted to work on his own account. For small stones proportionate premiums are given; while many precautions are taken to prevent the negroes from stealing the diamonds, with which view they are frequently changed by the overseers, lest these precious gems should be concealed in the corners of the troughs. When a negro is suspected of swallowing a diamond, he is confined in a solitary apartment, and means taken to bring the gem to light.

In the East Indies, the kingdom of Golconda, extending two hundred and sixty miles along the bay of Bengal, and having a breadth of two hundred miles from east to west, abounds in diamond mines. They are chiefly in the vicinity of the rocky hills and mountains which intersect the country, and in the whole of which diamonds are supposed to be contained. In several of the mines they are found scattered in the earth, within two or three fathoms of the surface, and in others are met with in a mineral substance in the body of the rocks, forty or fifty fathoms deep. The laborers having dug five or six feet into the rock, soften the stone by fire, and proceed till they find the vein, which often runs two or three furlongs under the rock. The earth being brought out and carefully searched, affords stones of various shapes, and of a good water. This earth is of a yellowish, and sometimes of a reddish color, frequently adhering to the diamond with so strong a crust that the separation becomes difficult.

To find the diamonds, the workmen form a cistern of a kind of clay, with a small vent on one side, a little above the bottom; in this vent they place a plug, and throwing into the cistern the earth they have dug, pour in water to dissolve it. They then break the clods, and stir the wet earth in the cistern, allowing the lighter part to be carried off in the form of mud, when the vent-hole is opened to let out the water. They thus continue washing, until what remains in the cistern is pretty clean; and then, in the middle of the day, when the sun shines bright, carefully look over all the sand, at which practice they are so expert, that the smallest stone can not escape them. The brightness of the sun being reflected by the diamonds, aids them in their research, which would be foiled if a cloud were to intervene.

The largest known diamond was found in Brazil, and belongs to the king of Portugal. It weighs sixteen hundred and eighty carats; and, although uncut, it is valued at the enormous sum of two hundred and twenty-four millions sterling, which gives an estimate of nearly eighty pounds sterling for each carat, the multiplicand of the square of its whole weight being taken. The one next in magnitude and value, is probably that mentioned by Tavernier, in possession of the Great Mogul. It was found in Golconda in 1550; is of the size of half a hen’s egg, and is said to weigh nine hundred carats. This diamond is the same as the famous “Koh-i-noor,” or “Mountain of Light,” now belonging to the queen of England, and which attracted so much attention in the great exhibition at London, in 1851. The one supposed to be next in value, is that belonging to the crown jewels of Russia, which weighs seven hundred and seventy-nine carats, and has been estimated at five millions sterling. But perhaps the most perfect and beautiful diamond hitherto found, is the one known as the Pitt diamond, which was brought from India by a gentleman of that name, who sold it to the Duke of Orleans for one hundred thousand pounds sterling. It was worn by Bonaparte in the hilt of his sword. It weighs about one hundred and thirty-six carats, or five hundred and forty-four grains. It ought, however, to be observed, that these estimates, founded on the magnitude and brilliancy of the gems, are very different from the prices which the most princely fortunes can afford to pay for them. The Russian diamond cost about one hundred and thirty five thousand pounds sterling; and the one called the Pitt or Regent, although it weighed one hundred and thirty-six carats only, was, on account of its greater brilliancy, purchased of a Greek merchant, for one hundred thousand pounds sterling. Several other large diamonds are preserved in the cabinets of the sovereigns and princes of Europe.

Why such immense value should be attached to diamonds, in all civilized countries, and by a kind of common consent, is one of those singular things that seem inexplicable. That a magnificent house, with a large estate, and the means of living not only in comfort but splendor, should be set in competition with, and even deemed inadequate to the purchase of, a transparent crystallized stone, not half the size of a hen’s egg, seems almost a kind of insanity! If for the mere consciousness of possessing a diamond of less than the weight of an ounce, any private gentleman were to pay four hundred and fifty thousand dollars in ready money, and an annuity of twenty thousand dollars besides, he would probably be thought beside himself. And yet not only was the above sum given, but a patent of nobility into the bargain, by the empress Catharine, of Russia, for the famous diamond “Nadir Shah.” In this case, however, though the seller acquired much, the purchaser did not suffer any personal privation; and in reality, notwithstanding the costliness and high estimation of diamonds, they are not put in competition with the substantial comforts and conveniences of life. Among ornaments and luxuries, however, they unquestionably occupy, and have ever occupied, the highest rank. Even Fashion, proverbially capricious as she is, has remained steady in this, one of her earliest attachments, during probably three or four thousand years. There must be, therefore, in the nature of things, some adequate reason for this universal consent; which becomes a curious object of inquiry.

The utility of the diamond, great as it is in some respects, enters for little or nothing into the calculation of its price; at least all that portion of its value which constitutes the difference between the cost of an entire diamond and an equal weight of diamond powder, must be attributed to other causes.

The beauty of this gem, depending on its unrivaled luster, is, no doubt, the circumstance which originally brought it into notice, and still continues to uphold it in the public estimation; and certainly, notwithstanding the smallness of its bulk, there is not any substance, natural or artificial, which can sustain any comparison with it in this respect. The vivid and various refractions of the opal, the refreshing tints of the emerald, the singular and beautiful light which streams from the six-rayed star of the girasol, the various colors, combined with high luster, which distinguish the ruby, the sapphire, and the topaz, beautiful as they are on a near inspection, are almost entirely lost to a distant beholder; whereas the diamond, without any essential color of its own, imbibes the pure solar ray, and then reflects it, either with undiminished intensity, too white and too vivid to be sustained for more than an instant by the most insensible eye, or decomposed by refraction into those prismatic colors, which paint the rainbow, and the morning and evening clouds, combined with a brilliancy which hardly yields to that of the meridian sun. Other gems, inserted into rings and bracelets, are best seen by the wearer; and if they attract the notice of the bystanders, divide their attention, and withdraw those regards which ought to be concentered on the person, to the merely accessory ornaments. The diamond, on the contrary, whether blazing on the crown of state, or diffusing its starry radiance from the breast of titled merit, or “in courts of feasts and high solemnities,” wreathing itself with the hair, illustrating the shape and color of the neck, and entering ambitiously into contest with the lively luster of those eyes that “rain influence” on all beholders, blends harmoniously with the general effect, and proclaims to the most distant ring of the surrounding crowd, the person of the monarch, of the knight, or of the beauty.

Another circumstance tending to enhance the value of the diamond is, that although small stones are sufficiently abundant to be within the reach of moderate expenditure, and therefore afford, to all those who are in easy circumstances an opportunity to acquire a taste for diamonds, yet those of a larger size are, and ever have been, rather rare; and of those which are celebrated for their size and beauty, the whole number, at least in Europe, scarcely amounts to half a dozen, all of them being in possession of sovereign princes. Hence, the acquisition even of a moderately large diamond, is what mere money can not always command; and many are the favors, both political and of other kinds, for which a diamond of a large size, or of uncommon beauty, may be offered as a compensation, where its commercial price, in money, neither can be tendered, nor would be received. In many circumstances also, it is a matter of no small importance for a person to have a considerable part of his property in the most portable form possible; and in this respect what is there that can be compared to diamonds, which possess the portability, without the risk of bills of exchange? It may further be remarked, in favor of this species of property, that it is but little liable to fluctuation, and has gone on pretty regularly increasing in value, insomuch that the price of stones of good quality is considerably higher than it was some years ago.

The art of cutting and polishing diamonds, has a twofold object; first, to divide the natural surface of the stone in a symmetrical manner by means of highly polished polygonal planes, and thus to bring out, to the best advantage, the wonderful refulgence of this beautiful gem; and, secondly, by cutting out such flaws as may happen to be near the surface, to remove those blemishes which materially detract from its beauty, and consequently from its value. The removal of such flaws is a matter of great importance; for, owing to the form in which the diamond is cut, and its high degree of refrangibility, the smallest fault is magnified, and becomes obtrusively visible to all. For this reason, also, it is by no means an easy matter, at all times, to ascertain whether a flaw is or is not superficial; and a person with a correct and well-practiced eye, may often purchase to great advantage, stones which appear to be flawed quite through, but which are in fact only superficially blemished.

Before leaving the subject of diamonds, it may be well to notice some other valuable stones that are much sought and prized for ornament. One of these is the oriental ruby. This, in its most esteemed color, is pure carmine, or a blood-red of considerable intensity, forming, when well polished, a blaze of the most exquisite and unrivaled tint. It is, however, more or less pale, and mixed with blue in various proportions; and hence it occurs rose-red, and reddish-white, crimson, peach-blossom red, and lilac-blue, the latter variety being named the oriental amethyst. It is a native of Pegu, and is said to be found in the sand of certain streams near the capital of the country; and it also occurs, with the sapphire, in the sands of the rivers of Ceylon. A ruby which is perfect both in color and transparency, is much less common than a good diamond; and when of the weight of three or four carats, is even more valuable than a diamond of the same size. The king of Pegu, and the monarchs of Asia and Siam, monopolize the finest rubies, in the same way as the sovereigns of India make a monopoly of diamonds. The finest ruby in the world is in possession of the first of these kings. Its purity has passed into a proverb, and its worth, when compared with gold, is inestimable. The dubah of Deccan, also, possesses a remarkably fine one, which is a full inch in diameter. The princes of Europe can not boast of any rubies of first-rate magnitude.

The oriental sapphire ranks next in value to the ruby. When it is perfect, its color is a clear and bright Prussian blue, united to a high degree of transparency. The astoria or star-stone, is a remarkable variety of this beautiful gem: it is semi-transparent, with a reddish purple tinge. And beside these, there are the red sapphire, often called the oriental ruby, and the yellow sapphire, which is called the oriental topaz. And in addition to these precious stones, or gems, there are also the emerald, of a beautiful green color; the topaz, which is of a yellow or light wine-color, and which by being heated, sometimes becomes rose-red, so as to be passed off as a ruby; the jasper and chalcedony, which are of various colors; the onyx, which is a regularly banded agate, much prized for cameos, especially where the colors are very distinct and different; the cornelian, which is properly a red or flesh-colored chalcedony, much valued for seal-stones, &c.; and the blood-stone, or heliotrope, which is deep green, and somewhat translucent, and variegated by blood-red spots: all of which are much used in the various departments of jewelry.

We have reserved for this place, a notice of the hot-well at Clifton, England, which would have been mentioned in connection with the Geysers and other hot springs, but from its connection with the beautiful crystals known as Bristol stones or diamonds, some of which are so hard as to cut glass, and are exceedingly clear, colorless and brilliant. When set in rings, in their natural state, these stones often appear of as high a polish and luster, as if they had been wrought by the most skillful lapidary.

The warm spring, or fountain, in the vicinity of which they are found, is called the hot-well. It is in the parish of Clifton, and is so copious as to discharge sixty gallons of water in a minute. It rises forcibly from an opening in the solid rock, at about twenty-six feet below high-water mark. On its immediate influx from the rock, the water is much warmer than when it is pumped up for drinking, for it is raised by pumps some thirty feet. Its qualities in a medicinal point of view are supposed to be valuable; but it is not on this point that we propose to dwell, and therefore we pass on to the rocks in the neighborhood, near which the Bristol stones are found. Just below the hot-well, there rises a noble range of hills, which are not more remarkable for their hight, than for their being equally so on both sides the river, the strata in some places answering on each side for about a mile and a half in a serpentine course. These constitute one of the greatest natural curiosities in England. The rock beyond the hot-well, and on the same side, is named St. Vincent’s, a chapel dedicated to that saint having been formerly built on its summit. It is in hight three hundred feet, and has a majestic appearance. It supplies the naturalist with many curious fossils, the botanist with a variety of scarce plants, the antiquary with the remains of a Roman camp, and the less curious inquirer with a view of a most dreadful and surprising precipice.

The rocks in general, when broken up, are of a dusky red, brown or chocolate colored marble, very hard and close-grained, and which, on being struck with a hammer, emit a strong sulphureous smell. It will bear a polish equal to any foreign marble; and, when sawed into slabs and polished, appears beautifully variegated with veins of white, bluish-gray, or yellow. It is often employed for chimney-pieces; but it is principally used for making lime, for which purpose there is no stone in England so well calculated, nor is there any lime so strong, fine, and white, which excellent qualities occasion great demand for foreign consumption.

Here, and in the vicinity, laborers are daily employed in blowing up the rocks with gunpowder, by which process vast fragments are frequently thrown down, and repeatedly strike the precipice with a dreadful crash, which, combined with the loud report of the explosion, reëchoed from side to side by the lofty cliffs, makes a noise resembling thunder, for which it is frequently mistaken by strangers. It is the opinion of the greater part of those who have viewed these rocks, that they were once united, and were separated by some terrible convulsion of nature. A bridge of one arch, from rock to rock, over the Avon, has long been in contemplation; but if the blowing up of these rocks should still be persisted in, the design will be rendered impracticable. This is the more to be regretted, because stone of the same quality is to be procured lower down the river.

Now it is in the fissures and cavities of these rocks, that the beautiful crystals called Bristol stones, or diamonds, already mentioned, are found. They are clear and brilliant, and being without color, so richly and brilliantly reflect the light, as to be almost next to the diamond in appearance, and are often palmed off on the unpracticed for the latter gem. They are extensively used in many of the plainer kinds of jewelry, and when set over gold-leaf, or thin paper of delicate tinges, are often made closely to resemble some of the richest gems known.

GOLD AND SILVER MINES.[4]

The mines of La Plata, so denominated on account of the abundance of silver they contain, are chiefly situated in the provinces which were formerly attached to the Spanish viceroyalty of Rio de la Plata; but which, since the South American states revolted from the mother country, have been included in the republic of Bolivia, or Upper Peru as it is sometimes called. With the exception of Mexico, Bolivia is the richest country in silver which has yet been discovered, and contains innumerable mines both of that metal and of gold. All its northern provinces teem with mineral opulence; and those of Laricaja and Carabaya, have been distinguished by the production of the latter, and still nobler metal, in its virgin state. In consequence, however, of the recent political convulsions, mining, once the richest source of revenue, is in a depressed state; many of the mines being filled with water and totally neglected.

Footnote 4:

The account of the mines of South America and Mexico is mostly from Humboldt, and as will be obvious to the reader, has reference in many things to their past history and progress, rather than to their present condition.

The mountain of Potosi formerly produced weekly about five thousand marks of silver, that is, from thirty to forty thousand dollars; a surprising produce, when it is considered that it has been wrought since 1545, at which time it was accidentally discovered by an Indian, or native, as represented in the cut. In hunting some goats, he slipped from a slight elevation, and to save himself caught hold of a shrub, which coming away from the ground, laid bare the silver at its root. At the commencement it was still more abundant, and the metal was dug up in a purer state.

The silver was often found in shoots like roots, imbedded in the earth. Six thousand Indians were sent every eighteen months, from the provinces of the viceroyalty, to work this mine. The expedition was called mita; and these Indians, having been enrolled and formed into parties, were distributed by the governor of Potosi, and received a small daily stipend, (equal to about thirty-four cents of our currency,) until the period of their labor was completed. They were thus doomed to a forced service, nothing less than slavery, so long as it lasted, which the Spaniards have endeavored to justify by the plea that laborers could not otherwise be procured.

Lumps of pure gold and silver, called =papas=, from their resemblance to the potato, were often found in the sands. The poor likewise occupied themselves in =lavaderos=, or in washing the sands of the rivers and rivulets, in order to find particles of the precious metals.

To compensate for the mines rendered useless by the irruption of water, or other accidents, rich and new ones were daily discovered. They were all found in the chains of mountains, commonly in dry and barren spots, and sometimes in the sides of the =quebredas=, or astonishing precipitous breaks in the ridges. However certain this rule might be in the region of Bolivia, it was contradicted in that of Peru, where, at three leagues’ distance from the Pacific ocean, not far from Tagna, in the province of Arica, there was discovered the famous mine of Huantajaya, in a sandy plain at a distance from the mountains, of such exuberant wealth that the pure metal was cut out with a chisel. From this mine a large specimen of virgin silver is preserved in the royal cabinet of natural history at Madrid. It attracted a considerable population, although neither water nor the common conveniences for labor could be found there, neither any pasturage for the cattle.

In the mint of Potosi, about six millions of dollars were annually coined; and the mines of the old viceroyalty of La Plata, taken collectively, are reckoned to have yielded about sixteen millions.

The mines of Mexico, or what was formerly called New Spain, have been more celebrated for their riches than those of La Plata, notwithstanding which they are remarkable for the poverty of the mineral they contain. A quintal, or sixteen hundred ounces of silver ore, affords, at a medium, not more than three or four ounces of pure silver, about one-third of what is yielded by the same quantity of mineral in Saxony. It is not, therefore, on account of the richness of the ore, but from its abundance and the facility of working it, that these mines have been so much superior to those of Europe.

The fact of the small number of persons employed in working them, is not less contrary to the commonly received opinion on this subject. The mines of Guanaxuato, infinitely richer than those of Potosi ever were, afforded from 1706 to 1803, nearly forty millions of dollars in gold and silver, or very nearly five millions of dollars annually, being somewhat less than one-fourth of the whole quantity of gold and silver from New Spain; notwithstanding which, these mines, productive as they were, did not employ more than five thousand workmen of every description. In Mexico, the labor of the mines was perfectly free, and better paid than any other kind of industry, a miner earning from five to five dollars and a half weekly, while the wages of the common laborer did not exceed a dollar and a half. The =tenateros=, or persons who carried the ore on their backs, from the spot where it was dug out of the mine, to that where it was collected in heaps, had a sum equal to a dollar and ten cents for a day’s work of six hours. Neither slaves, criminals, nor forced laborers, were employed in the Mexican mines.

In consequence of the clumsy, imperfect and expensive mode of clearing them from water, several of the richest of these mines have been overflowed and abandoned; while the lack of method in the arrangement of the galleries, and the absence of lateral communications, have added to the risk, and greatly increased the expense of working them. Labor has not been, as in the working of the European mines, abridged, nor the transportation of materials facilitated. When new works were undertaken, a due consideration was not bestowed on the preliminary arrangements; and they were always conducted on too large and expensive a scale.

More than three-fourths of the silver obtained from America is extricated from the ore by means of quicksilver, the loss of which, in the process of amalgamation, is immense. The quantity that used to be consumed annually in Mexico alone, was about sixteen thousand quintals; and in the whole of South America, about twenty-five thousand quintals were yearly expended, the cost of which there, has been estimated at more than a million dollars. The greater part of this quicksilver, in later years, was furnished by the mine of Almaden in Spain, and that of Istria in Carniola, the celebrated quicksilver mine of Huancavelica in Peru, having greatly fallen off in its produce since the sixteenth century, when it was highly flourishing. The prosperity of the silver mines, both in Mexico and Peru, therefore depended very much on the supplies of quicksilver from Spain, Germany and Italy; for such was the abundance of the ore in those provinces, that apparently the only limit to the amount of silver obtained there, was the want of mercury for amalgamation.

In taking a general view of the riches of the other portions of America, Humboldt, who has supplied these details, remarks that, in Peru, silver ore exists in as great abundance as in Mexico, the mines of Lauricocha being capable of yielding as great a produce as those of Guanaxuato; but that the art of mining, and the methods of separating the silver from its ore, are still more defective than in Mexico. Notwithstanding this imperfect system, the total amount of the precious metals annually furnished by America, was at one time estimated at upward of forty-two million dollars; the gold being in proportion to the silver as one to forty-six. From 1492 to 1803, the quantity of gold and silver extracted from the American mines, was equal in value to five billion, seven hundred and six million, seven hundred thousand dollars; of which immense sum, the portion carried to Europe, including the booty gathered by the conquerors of America, is estimated at five billion, four hundred and forty-five million dollars, averaging seventeen million and a half of dollars yearly. The annual importation up to 1803, being divided into six periods, appears to have constantly augmented, and in the following progressive ratio. From 1492 to 1500, it did not exceed two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. From 1500 to 1545, it amounted to three millions of dollars. From 1545 to 1600, to eleven millions. From 1600 to 1700, to sixteen millions. From 1700 to 1750, to twenty-two millions and a half. And, lastly, from 1750 to 1803, to the prodigious sum of thirty-five million, three hundred thousand dollars.

The first period was that of exchange with the natives, or of mere rapine. The second was distinguished by the conquest and plunder of Mexico, Peru and New Granada, and by the opening of the first mines. The third began with the discovery of the rich mines of Potosi; and in the course of it the conquest of Chili was completed, and various mines opened in Mexico. At the commencement of the fourth period, the mines of Potosi began to be exhausted; but those of Lauricocha were discovered, and the produce of Mexico rose from two millions to five millions of dollars annually. The fifth period began with the discovery of gold in Brazil; and the sixth was distinguished by the prodigious increase of the mines of Mexico, while those of every other part of America, with the exception of Brazil, were then constantly improving.

The gold mines of Brazil have been very productive. Those called general, were about seventy-five leagues from Rio Janeiro, the staple and principal outlet of the riches of the Brazilian territory. They formerly yielded to the king, annually, for his right of fifths, at least one hundred and twelve arobas (weighing twenty-five pounds each) of gold; so that their yearly produce might then have been estimated at upward of three and a half millions of dollars, and that of the more distant mines at about one-third the sum.

The gold drawn from them could not be carried to Rio Janeiro, without being first brought to the smelting-houses established in each district, where the right of the crown was received. What belonged to private persons was remitted in bars, with their weight, number, and an impression of the royal arms. The gold was then assayed, and its standard imprinted on each bar. When these bars were carried to the mint, their value was paid to the possessor in coin, commonly in half-doubloons, each worth eight Spanish dollars. Upon each of these half-doubloons the king gained a dollar, by the alloy and right of coinage. The mint of Rio Janeiro was one of the most beautiful in existence, and furnished with every convenience for working with the greatest celerity. As the gold came from the mines at the same time that the fleets came from Portugal, the operations of the mint and the coinage proceeded with surprising quickness.

In Africa, the kingdom of Mozambique abounds in gold, which is washed down by the rivers, and forms a chief part of the commerce of the country. The kingdoms of Monomotara and Sofala likewise furnish considerable quantities of gold; and the Portuguese residing in the latter territory, half a century ago, reported that it yielded annually two millions of =metigals=, equal to somewhat more than a million sterling. The merchants exported from Mecca, and other parts, about the same quantity of gold. The soldiers were paid in gold dust, in the state in which it was collected; and this was so pure, and of so fine a yellow, as not to be exceeded, when wrought, by any other gold beside that of Japan. Gold is likewise found on the island of Madagascar. The Gold Coast is so denominated from the abundance of gold found among the sands: it is not, however, so productive as has been generally supposed, owing to the intense heats, which, in a great measure, prevent the natives from prosecuting their researches.

In Asia, the island of Japan is most productive of gold, which is found in several of its provinces, and is, in by far the greater proportion, melted from its ore. It is also procured by washing the sands, and a small quantity is likewise found in the ore of copper. The emperor claims a supreme jurisdiction, not only over the gold mines, but over all the mines of the empire, which are not allowed to be worked without a license from him. Two-thirds of their produce belong to him, and the other third is left to the governor of the province in which the mines are situated. But the richest gold ore, and that which yields the finest gold, is dug in one of the northern provinces of the island of Niphon, a dependency of Japan, where the gold mines have, in past times, been highly productive, though now they have much fallen off. In the Japanese province of Tsckungo, a rich gold mine, having been filled with water, was no longer worked: as it was, however, so situated, that by cutting the rock and making an opening beneath the mine, the water could be easily drawn off, this was attempted. At the moment of beginning the operation, so violent a storm of thunder and lightning arose, that the workmen were obliged to seek shelter elsewhere; and these superstitious people imagining that the tutelar god and protector of the spot, unwilling to have the bowels of the earth thus rifled, had raised the storm to make them sensible of his great displeasure at such an undertaking, desisted from all further attempts, through the fear of incurring his displeasure, and could not be induced to go on with it.

Thibet, a mountainous country of India, contains a great abundance of gold, which is traced in the rivers flowing from that territory into the Ganges. In Hindoostan there are not any mines of gold; but in the Irnada district gold is collected in the river which passes Nelambur in the Mangery Talui, a nair having the exclusive privilege of this collection, for which he pays a small annual tribute. Silver is in general rare throughout the oriental regions, and there is not any indication of this metal in India; but in Japan there are several silver mines, more particularly in the northern provinces, and the metal extracted from them is very pure and fine.

Turning to Europe, Dalmatia is said in ancient times to have produced an abundance of gold. Pliny reports that in the reign of the emperor Nero, fifty pounds of this precious metal were daily taken from the mines of that province; and that it was found on the surface of the ground. It is added, that Vibius, who was sent by Augustus to subdue the Dalmatians, obliged that hardy and warlike people to work in the mines, and to separate the gold from the ore.

Bossina, in Sclavonia, contains many mineral mountains, and has rich mines of gold and silver. The district in which the latter are found, is named the =Srebrarniza=, being derived from the word =srebr=, which signifies silver in all the Sclavonian dialects. Their produce resembles the native silver of Potosi, and is found, combined with pure quartz, in small, thin leaves, resembling moss.

The kingdom of Norway formerly produced gold; but the expense of working the mines, and procuring the pure ore, being greater than the profit, these have been neglected. There are, however, silver mines, which are extremely valuable, and give employment to several thousands of persons. The principal of these is at Königsberg, and was discovered in 1623, when the town was immediately built, and peopled with German miners. In 1751, forty-one shafts and twelve veins, were wrought in this mine, and gave employment to thirty-five hundred officers, artificers and laborers. A view of one part of this mine is given in the cut on the next page.

The silver ore is not, as was at first imagined, confined to the mountain between Königsberg and the river Jordal, but extends its veins for several miles throughout the adjacent districts, in consequence of which new mines have been undertaken in several places, and prosperously carried on. One of the richest and most ancient of the mines, named “Old God’s blessing,” has sometimes, in the space of a week, yielded several hundred pounds’ weight of rich ore. The astonishing depth of this mine, which is not less than a hundred and eighty fathoms, perpendicularly, fills the mind of the beholder with amazement; and the circumference at the bottom forms a clear space of several hundreds of fathoms. Here the sight of thirty or forty fires, burning on all sides in this gloomy cavern, and continually fed to soften the stone in the prosecution of the labors, seems, according to the notions commonly entertained, an apt image of hell; and the swarms of miners, covered with soot, and bustling about in habits according to their several employments, may well remind one of so many evil spirits; more especially when, at a given signal that the mine is to be sprung in this or that direction, they exclaim aloud: “=Berg-livet, berg-livet=!” “Take care of your lives.”

The gold mines of Cremnitz, in Hungary, lie forty miles south of the Carpathian hills; and twenty miles further to the south are the silver mines of Shemnitz. These are called mining towns; and the former is the principal, its rich ores being found in what is styled metallic rock. Its mines also produce a certain proportion of silver. Hungary is beside enriched by a mineral peculiar to itself, or one, at least, which has not hitherto been discovered elsewhere, namely, the opal, a gem preferred to all others by the oriental nations. The opal mines are situated at Ozerwiniza, where they are found in a hill consisting of decomposed porphyry, a few fathoms beneath the surface. Their produce is of various qualities, from the opaque-white, or semi-opal, to the utmost refulgence of the lively colors by which this noble gem is distinguished.

Transylvania and the Bannet, contain numerous and valuable mines, consisting chiefly of gray gold ore, and white gold ore. The finest gold is found at Olapian, not far from Zalathna, intermixed with gravel and sand. The sands of the Rhine, also, in various places contain traces of gold.

The mountains of Spain were, according to ancient writers, very rich in gold and silver; and accordingly Gibbon calls that kingdom, “the Peru and Mexico of the old world.” He adds, that “the discovery of the rich western continent of the Phenicians, and the oppression of the simple natives, who were compelled to labor in their own mines for the benefit of strangers, form an exact type of the more recent history of Spanish America.” The Phenicians were acquainted only with the sea-coasts of Spain; but avarice, as well as ambition, carried the arms of Rome and Carthage into the heart of the country, and almost every part of the soil was found pregnant with gold, silver and copper. A mine near Carthagena, is said to have yielded daily twenty-five thousand drams of silver, or over thirteen hundred thousand dollars a year. The provinces of Asturia, Gallicia and Lusitania, yielded twenty thousand pounds’ weight of gold annually: but rich as these mines are, the modern Spaniards have chosen rather to import the precious metals from America, than to seek them at home.

Portugal is in many parts mountainous; and these mountains contain, beside others, rich ores of silver. But the Portuguese, like the Spaniards, having been supplied with metals from South America, and particularly with an abundance of gold and silver from Brazil, have not worked the mines in their own country. Gems of all kinds, as turkoises and hyacinths, are also found in these mountains, together with beautifully variegated marbles, and many curious fossils.

But the richest and most productive gold mines of Europe, at the present time, are probably those of Russia. It had long been known that gold was to be found in the Russian dominions; but in 1829, Baron Humboldt, with two scientific associates, at the request of the emperor of Russia, made a mineralogical tour to the Ural and Altai mountains. In this journey, they not only discovered new localities of gold and silver, but from the geological features of the country suggested that, at certain localities, diamonds would also probably be found, which accordingly happened. And as the result of the report they made to the Russian government, mining operations were commenced on a large scale in these mountains, which have now become one of the most prolific gold regions in the world. The increase of these sources of gold, in extent and amount, has been such, that from the value of about ten thousand dollars in 1836, the amount received in 1843, was some eighteen millions of dollars; and the supply has since increased annually, until at present, 1855, it amounts to about twenty million dollars a year. Most of this large amount of gold is gathered from washing the sand and loose earth, and not from deep mines; and as it is every year becoming greater and greater, it must add immensely to the wealth and resources of the Russian empire.

But by far the greatest gold-field in the world, has been opened by the discoveries of the last few years in California. At the close of the late war with Mexico, the United States acquired, by conquest and purchase, a tract of country of some five hundred thousand square miles in extent, known as the Mexican territory of upper California. And from the western portion of this region, Congress, in 1850, created and admitted into the American confederacy, the thirty-first state, under the name of California. It is almost superfluous to say, that California is one of the most important mineral regions in the world, particularly in its deposits of gold. Vague notions of the existence of this gold, had from time to time been spread abroad; but it was not till 1848, that an accident discovered the marvelous fact of its abundance. In that year, a Mr. Sutter, a native of Switzerland, was settled near the mouth of the American fork of the Sacramento river, at the head of navigation, one hundred and fifty miles from its mouth. Here he had founded New Helvetia, and obtained a grant of thirty miles round. He had sent some men to the upper part of the American fork, to clear out a mill-race. The soil was washed down in the process, and some shining scales laid bare. These proved to be gold, and on investigation, not only the valley of this stream, but the beds of all the other streams running into the Sacramento, were found to have a soil full of gold, in minute scales and in bits, from a grain to many ounces in weight. New “placers,” as the “washings,” or “dry diggings” are called, have constantly been discovered, and people have rushed to these hills from all quarters, with pans, tubs, pickaxes, shovels, hoes, filtering-machines, and energetic sinews, till they have extracted, by digging, washing, &c., millions on millions of dollars’ worth of the yellow treasure. Gold is now found over an extent of many hundred miles, and also on the Gila, and throughout the great central plateau, north and north-east of it.

In a favorable locality, the lucky finder of a placer will sift out hundreds of dollars’ worth in a day. Persons with not a shirt to their backs, and scarcely a whole garment upon them, are seen with bags of gold in their hands. Prices of everything went up at once to an enormous rate: laborer’s wages became eight or ten dollars a day; cooks at the diggings, ten dollars a day; clerks, fifteen hundred dollars to six thousand dollars =per annum=, &c., &c. As all the productive industry of the country is now turned to gold-digging, and as such vast numbers of consumers are flocking in from all parts, prices continue to range high for every article of necessity, although such large quantities of goods have been sent.

The gold first discovered was evidently not in its original place, but had been washed down from higher regions; and when all that is thus spread through the sands of California shall have been exhausted, if it ever shall be, there are large bodies of auriferous quartz, which (with greater labor and expense) will doubtless afford large supplies of gold for generations to come. The amount of capital invested in quartz-mining, according to the state census of 1852, was about six millions, and in placer and other mining operations, about four millions of dollars; and the sum total of these amounts has been greatly increased since that date. Up to the close of 1851, there had been deposited in the United States mint, $98,407,990 of California gold; and the deposits of 1852 amounted to $46,528,076, making a total of $145,000,000. But all this falls far short of the real amount produced; as probably quite as much more has been sent to Europe in the shape of dust or bullion, not to mention the unreported sums which have been privately taken out of the state. An official estimate states the production of American gold in 1853, at $109,156,748; and of this sum nearly the whole is from the mines of California. And this vast amount is steadily on the increase, in about the proportion of the increase of the mining population, so that California not only is, but is likely to continue to be the great gold-field of the world.

Before leaving California, it may not be amiss to add, that the country abounds in mines of almost every kind, as well as gold. Quicksilver, plaster, lead, iron, silver, copper, asphaltum and marble, are found in Butte, and also in Marion county; rich silver mines and coal, in San Louis Obispo; copious salt springs, in Shasta; bituminous springs, in many places along the coast; hot sulphur springs, in Santa Barbara; warm soda springs, near Benicia; and platina is said to be widely distributed in almost every section where gold has been found. Silver has been discovered in several mines in the southern district; copper is widely distributed in other sections beside those above-mentioned; chromium occurs in large quantities in the serpentine rocks; and diamonds are reported to have been recently found in several localities.

At a date still later than the discovery of gold in California, the same precious metal was discovered in Australia. The cut on the following page gives a view of the place where it was first found, in the county of Bathurst, not far from Sydney in New South Wales. It is worthy of note that we owe the discovery of gold in Australia to the high state of geological science. Sir R. Murchison, in his address to the London Geographical Society in 1844, alluded to the possibly auriferous character of the great eastern chain of Australia, being led thereto by his knowledge of the auriferous chain of the Ural, and by his examination of Count Strzelecki’s specimens, maps and sections. Some of Sir R. Murchison’s observations having found their way to the Australian papers, a Mr. Smith, at that time engaged in some iron works at Berrima, was induced by them in the year 1849 to search for gold, and he found it. He sent the gold to the colonial government, and offered to disclose its locality on payment of five hundred pounds sterling. The government, however, not putting full faith in the statement, and being, moreover, unwilling to encourage a gold fever without sufficient reason, declined to grant the sum, but offered, if Mr. Smith would mention the locality, and the discovery was found to be valuable, to reward him accordingly. Very unwisely, as it turned out, Mr. Smith did not accept this offer; and it remained for Mr. Hargraves, who came with the prestige of his California experience, to make the discovery anew, and get the reward from the English government on their own conditions. The first discovery was made in the banks of the Summer Hill creek and the Lewis Ponds river, small streams which run from the northern flank of the Conobalas down to the Macquarrie. The gold was found in the sand and gravel accumulated, especially on the inside of the bends of the brook, and at the junction of the two water-courses, where the stream of each would be often checked by the other. It was coarse gold, showing its parent site to be at no great distance, and probably in the quartz veins traversing the metamorphic rocks of the Conobalas. Mr. Stutchbury, the government geologist, reported on the truth of the discovery, and shortly afterward found gold in several other localities, especially on the banks of the Turon, some distance north-east of the Conobalas. This was a much wider and more open valley than the Summer Hill creek, and the gold accordingly was much finer, occurring in small scales and flakes. It was, however, more regularly and equably distributed through the soil, so that a man might reckon with the greatest certainty on the quantity his daily labor would return him. At the head of the Turon river, among the dark glens and gullies in which it collects its head-waters, in the flanks of the Blue mountains, the gold got “coarser,” occurred in large lumps or nuggets, but these were more sparingly scattered.

As already said, the discovery was made by Mr. Hargraves, in May, 1850; and before the end of June, there were more than twenty thousand persons at the mines. When it was known in the town of Bathurst, that the discovery had been made, and that the country, from the mountain ranges, back to an indefinite extent in the interior, was probably one immense goldfield, the excitement was intense and universal. A complete phrensy seemed to seize on the entire population; the business of the town was paralyzed; and there was a universal rush to the diggings. People of all trades, callings and pursuits were quickly transformed into miners; and many a hand which had been trained to kid gloves, or accustomed only to the quill, became nervous to clutch the pick or crowbar, or to “rock the cradle” at the newly discovered mines. The roads were literally alive with the crowds pressing on from every quarter, some armed with pickaxes, others shouldering crowbars and shovels, and not a few strung round with hand-basins, tin-pots and cullenders. Scores rushed from their homes, with only a blanket, and a pick or grubbing-hoe, full of hope that a few days would give them heaps of the precious metal. Everything at once rose in price, and the whole face of society was speedily changed in almost every aspect.

The first pieces found were in grains. Soon a piece was picked up weighing some eleven ounces; and soon after, several lumps weighing together about three pounds. Gold was speedily discovered in almost every place where it was looked for; in the beds of the streams, and in veins of quartz, in grains, in scales, and in lumps of various weights. Some, as might be expected, were successful, and some comparatively unsuccessful in seeking it; the great mass of the miners averaging not more than four or five dollars a day, while in some rare cases a single individual gathered to the value of a thousand dollars in the same time. Gold was soon discovered in the Wellington district, and in various other places. One piece was picked up weighing almost five pounds; and from a single cleft in a rock, a miner took out eleven pounds’ weight of gold, in separate pieces of various sizes. A Scotchman gathered fourteen hundred dollars’ worth in four days, and eight of his associates averaged from thirty to forty dollars’ worth a day. Apparently there is no end to the supply, at least for years to come; and all this within forty miles of a town where every comfort, not to say luxury, can be obtained, with a good post-road all the way to Sydney, and in the midst of tracts of the most fertile land, partly occupied, and where food may be supplied for millions of inhabitants, if needed. An official statement estimates the supply of Australian gold at sixty million dollars a year; and in addition to the gold, diamonds and platinum have also been found. Australia and California are likely to be the great sources of the supply of gold, compared with which all others will be relatively unimportant.

Before leaving the subject of gold, it may be interesting to the reader to trace the process of its coinage, which may thus be briefly stated. The metal, after being received in the deposit-room, is carefully weighed, and a receipt given. Each deposit is then melted separately in the melting-room, and molded into bars. These bars next pass through the hands of the assayer, who with a chisel chips a small fragment from each one. Each chip is then rolled into a thin ribbon, and filed down until it weighs exactly ten grains. It is then melted into a little cup made of calcined bone ashes, and all the base metals, copper, tin, &c., are absorbed by the porous material of the cup or carried off by oxydation. The gold is then boiled in nitric acid, which dissolves the silver which it contains, and leaves the gold pure. It is then weighed, and the amount which it has lost gives the exact proportion of impurity in the original bar, and a certificate of the amount of coin due the depositor is made out accordingly. After being assayed, the bars are melted with a certain proportion of silver, and being poured into a dilution of nitric acid and water, assume a granulated form. In this state the gold is thoroughly boiled in nitric acid, and rendered perfectly free from silver or any other baser metals which may happen to cling to it. It is next melted with one-ninth its weight of copper, and, thus alloyed, is run into bars, and delivered to the coiner for coinage. The bars are rolled out in a rolling-mill until nearly as thin as the coin which is to be made from them. By a process of annealing they are rendered sufficiently ductile to be drawn through a longitudinal orifice in a piece of steel, thus reducing the whole to a regular width and thickness. A cutting-machine next punches small round pieces from the bar, about the size of the coin. These pieces are weighed separately by the “adjusters,” and if too heavy are filed down; if too light they are melted again. The pieces which have been adjusted are run through a milling-machine, which compresses them to the right diameter and raises the edge. Two hundred and fifty are milled in a minute by the machine. They are then again softened by the process of annealing, and after a thorough cleaning are placed in a tube connecting with the stamping instrument, and are taken thence one at a time by the machinery, and stamped between the dies. They are now finished, and, being thrown into a box, are delivered to the treasurer for circulation. The machinery, of course, for all those processes, must be of the nicest kind. When in full operation, a mint like that of England, or that of the United States at Philadelphia, can coin millions on millions in a year.

QUICKSILVER MINES.

Quicksilver, or mercury, is the only metal which remains liquid at ordinary temperatures. It is white and very brilliant, as may be seen in common thermometers. It boils at six hundred and sixty degrees of heat; and freezes, and assumes a crystalline texture, at forty degrees below zero. It is extensively used in its various forms in the arts, and also for medicinal purposes. The thermometer and barometer illustrate some of its uses in its pure state; the backs of our common mirrors are covered with it, which gives them their reflecting power; it is used extensively in separating some of the purer metals from the mixtures with which they are found; and in some of its forms or combinations, it is the basis of calomel, corrosive sublimate, vermilion, &c.

Mercury is found in various parts of the world. Among its principal mines are those of Almaden, near Cordova, in Spain, and of Idria, near Carniola, in Austria; though it is also found in Peru, California, Italy and China. Formerly most of the quicksilver came from Germany; but more recently the largest production is probably in Spain. So extensively is it used, that in 1831, over three hundred thousand pounds were brought from the continent into England; and for the fourteen years ending in 1828, the imports of it into Canton, by the English and Americans, averaged nearly six hundred and fifty thousand pounds a year, worth some three hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

Of all the quicksilver mines, those of Idria, mentioned above, are some of the most interesting, and demand a particular description, as they have been celebrated in natural history, poetry and romance. The ban of Idria, is a district of Austria, lying west of Carniola. The town, which is small, is seated in a deep valley, amid high mountains, on the river of the same name, and at the bottom of so steep a descent, that its approach is a task of great difficulty, and sometimes of danger.

The mines were discovered in 1497, before which time that part of the country was inhabited by a few coopers only, and other artificers in wood, with which the territory abounds. One evening, a cooper having placed a new tub under a dropping spring, to try if it would hold water, on returning the next morning, found it so heavy that he could scarcely move it. He at first was led by his superstition to suspect that the tub was bewitched; but spying, at length, a shining fluid at the bottom, with the nature of which he was unacquainted, he collected it, and proceeded to an apothecary at Laubach, who, being an artful man, dismissed him with a small recompense, requesting that he would not fail to bring him further supplies. From this small beginning, the product of these mines has steadily increased; and now might easily be made six hundred tuns per year, though to uphold the price of the metal, the Austrian government has restricted the annual production to one hundred and fifty tuns. In 1803, a disastrous fire took place in these mines, which was extinguished only by drowning all the underground workings. The mercury, sublimed by the heat in this catastrophe, occasioned diseases and nervous tremblings in more than nine hundred persons in the neighborhood.

The subterraneous passages of the great mine are so extensive, that it would require several hours to pass through them. The greatest perpendicular depth, computing from the entrance of the shaft, is eight hundred and forty feet; but as these passages advance horizontally, under a high mountain, the depth would be much greater if the measure were taken from the surface. One mode of descending the shaft is by a bucket, but as the entrance is narrow, the bucket is liable to strike against the sides, or to be stopped by some obstacle, so that it may be readily overset. A second mode of descending, which is safer, is by means of a great number of ladders, placed obliquely, in a kind of zigzag: as the ladders, however, are wet and narrow, a person must be very cautious how he steps, to prevent his falling. In the course of the descent, there are several resting-places, which are extremely welcome to the wearied traveler. In some of the subterraneous passages, the heat is so intense as to occasion a profuse sweat; and in several of the shafts the air was formerly so confined, that several miners were suffocated by an igneous vapor, or gaseous exhalation, called the fire-damp. This has been prevented by sinking the main shaft deeper. Near to it is a large wheel, and a hydraulic machine, by which the mine is cleared of water.

To these pernicious and deadly caverns, criminals are occasionally banished by the Austrian government; and it has sometimes happened that this punishment has been allotted to persons of considerable rank and family. The case of Count Alberti is an interesting instance of this kind.

The count, having fought a duel with an Austrian general, against the emperor’s command, and having left him for dead, was obliged to seek refuge in one of the forests of Istria, where he was apprehended, and afterward rescued by a band of robbers who had long infested that quarter. With these banditti he spent nine months, until, by a close investment of the place in which they were concealed, and after a very obstinate resistance, in which the greater part of them were killed, he was taken and carried to Vienna, to be broken alive on the wheel. This punishment was, by the intercession of his friends, changed into that of perpetual confinement and labor in the mines of Idria; a sentence which, to a noble mind, was worse than death. To these mines he was accompanied by the countess, his lady, who belonged to one of the first families in Germany, and who, having tried every means to procure her husband’s pardon without effect, resolved at length to share his miseries, as she could not relieve them. They were terminated, however, through the mediation of the general with whom the duel had been fought, who as soon as he recovered from his wounds, obtained a pardon for his unfortunate opponent; and Alberti, on his return to Vienna, was again taken into favor, and restored to his fortune and rank.

IRON MINES.

The metal which is called iron, is familiar to all, both for its value and its various uses. It is capable of being cast in molds of any form; of being drawn in wires, extended in plates or sheets, of being bent in every direction, and of being sharpened, hardened, or softened at pleasure. It accommodates itself to all our wants, desires, and even caprices; it is equally serviceable to the arts, the sciences, to agriculture, and to war; and the same ore furnishes the sword, the plowshare, the scythe, the pruning-hook, the needle, the graver, the spring of the watch or that of the carriage, the chisel, the chain, the anchor, the compass, the cannon, the bomb, the edge of the finest knife or razor, and the ponderous trip-hammer of enormous weight. It is a medicine of much virtue, and the only metal which is always useful, and tends to no injury to mankind.

The ores of iron are scattered over the entire crust of the globe in beneficent profusion, and in proportion to the utility of the metal itself: they are found in every latitude and zone, in every mineral formation, and in every soil and clime. These ores are nineteen in number, ten of which are worked to profit by the miner, either for the sake of the iron they contain, for use in their native state, or for extracting from them some principle or material, useful in manufactures or the arts.

Native iron, the existence of which was formerly questioned, has been found in several places: it is, however, far from being common, though it occurs in several mines. A mass of this description of iron was discovered in the district of Santiago del Estero, in South America, by a party of Indians, in the midst of a widely extended plain. It projected about a foot above the ground, nearly the whole of its upper surface being visible; and the news of its having been found in a country where there are not any mountains, nor even the smallest stone, within the circumference of a hundred leagues, was considered as truly surprising. Although the journey was attended with great danger, on account of the want of water, and abundance of wild beasts in these deserts, several individuals, in the hope of gain, undertook to visit this mass; and, having accomplished their journey, sent a specimen of the metal to Lima and Madrid, where it was found to be very pure soft iron.

As it was reported that this mass was the extremity of an immense vein of the metal, a metallurgist was sent to examine the spot, and by him it was found buried in pure clay and ashes. Externally it had the appearance of very compact iron, but was internally full of cavities, as if the whole had been formerly in a liquid state. This idea was confirmed by its having, on its surface, the impression of human feet and hands of a large size, as well as that of the feet of a description of large birds, very common in South America. Although these impressions seemed very perfect, it was concluded either that they were =lusus naturæ=, or that impressions of this kind were previously on the ground, and that the liquid mass of iron, in falling on it, received them. It had the greatest resemblance to a mass of dough; which, having been stamped with impressions of hands and feet, and marked with a finger, had afterward been converted into iron.

On digging round the mass, the under surface was found covered with a coat of scoriæ from four to six inches thick, undoubtedly occasioned by the moisture of the earth, the upper surface being clean. No appearance of the formation of iron was observed in the earth, below or round it, for a great distance. About two leagues to the eastward was a brackish mineral spring, and a very gentle ascent of from four to six feet in hight, running from north to south: with this exception, the adjacent territory was a perfect level. About the spring, as well as near the mass, the earth was very light, loose, and greatly resembling ashes, even in color. The grass in the vicinity was very short, small, and extremely unpalatable to the cattle; but that at a distance was long, and extremely grateful to them. From these concurrent circumstances it was concluded, that this mass of native iron, which was estimated to weigh about three hundred quintals, was produced by a volcanic explosion. It is stated as an undoubted fact, that in one of the forests of the above district of Santiago del Estero, there exists a mass of pure native iron, in the shape of a tree with its branches. At a little depth in the earth are found stones of quartz, of a beautiful red color, which the honey-gatherers, the only persons who frequent this rude territory, employ as flints to light their fires. Several of these were selected on account of their peculiar beauty, they being spotted and studded, as it were, with gold: one of them, weighing about an ounce, was ground by the governor of the district, who extracted from it a dram of gold.

A fibrous kind of native iron has been found at Ebenstock, in Saxony, and also in Siberia, where one particular mass weighed sixteen hundred pounds. It resembled forged iron in its composition, and was malleable when cold, but brittle when red-hot. In Senegal, where it is most common, it is of a cubical form, and is employed by the natives in the manufacture of different kinds of vessels. Native meteoric iron, called also nickeliferous, from its containing nickel, and native steel iron, which has many of the characters of cast steel, have also been found.

Iron, although one of the imperfect metals, is susceptible of a very high polish, and more capable than any other metal of having its hardness increased or diminished by certain chemical processes. It is often manufactured in such a way as to be one hundred and fifty times, and, as will now be seen, in some cases, to be even above six hundred and thirty times more valuable than gold. On weighing several common watch-pendulum springs, such as are sold for ordinary work by the London artists, at half a crown, ten of them were found to weigh but one single grain. Hence one pound avoirdupois, equal to seven thousand grains, contains ten times that number of these springs, which amount, at half a crown each, to eight thousand, seven hundred and fifty pounds sterling. Reckoning the troy ounce of gold at four pounds sterling, and the pound equal to fifty-seven hundred and sixty grains, at forty-eight pounds sterling, the value of an avoirdupois pound of gold is over fifty-eight pounds sterling. The above amount of the value of the watch-springs weighing an avoirdupois pound, being divided by that sum, will give a ratio of somewhat more than one hundred and fifty to one. But the pendulum-springs of the best kind of watches sell at half a guinea each; and at this price the above-mentioned value is increased in the ratio of four and one-fifth to one; which gives an amount of thirty-six thousand, seven hundred and fifty pounds sterling. This sum being divided by the value of the avoirdupois pound of gold, gives a quotient of more than six hundred and thirty to one.

It is one of the valuable properties of iron, after it is reduced into the state of steel, that, although it is sufficiently soft when hot, or when gradually cooled, to be formed without difficulty into various tools and utensils, still it may be afterward rendered more or less hard, even to an extreme degree, by simply plunging it, when red-hot, into cold water. This is called tempering, the hardness produced being greater in proportion as the steel is hotter and the water cooler. Hence arises the superiority of this metal for making mechanics’ instruments or tools, by which all other metals, and even itself, are filed, drilled and cut. The various degrees of hardness given to iron, depend on the quantity of ignition it possesses at the moment of being tempered, which is manifested by the succession of color exhibited on the surface of the metal, in the progress of its receiving the increasing heat. These are, the yellowish white, yellow, gold-color, purple, violet, and deep blue; after the exhibition of which the complete ignition takes place. These colors proceed from a kind of scorification on the surface of the heated metal.

The largest iron-works in England are carried on in Colebrookdale, in Shropshire. This spot, which is situated between two towering and variegated hills, covered with wood, possesses peculiar advantages, the ore being obtained from the adjacent hills, the coals from the vale, and abundance of limestone from the quarries in the vicinity. The romantic scenery which nature here exhibits, and the works which are carried on, seem to realize the ancient fable of the Cyclops. The noise of the forges, mills, &c., with all their vast machinery, the flames bursting from the furnaces, with the burning coal, and the smoke of the lime-kilns, are altogether horribly sublime. To complete the peculiarities of the spot, a bridge, entirely constructed of iron, is here thrown over the Severn. In one place it has parted, and a chasm is formed; but such is its firm basis, that the fissure has neither injured its strength nor utility.

The great superiority of Swedish iron over that of all other countries, for the manufacture of steel, is well known, and is ascribed to the great purity of the ore from which the iron is smelted. The British steel-makers have found it difficult to employ British iron in their processes, it being too brittle to bear cementation; but attempts have been made at Sheffield, with some success. Wootz, a species of steel from India, has been successfully used for nicer kinds of cutlery. One of the most remarkable of the Swedish mines, if the name can with propriety be applied to it, is Tabern, a mountain of a considerable size, composed entirely of pure iron ore, and occurring in a large tract of sand, over which it seems to have been deposited. This mountain has been wrought for nearly three centuries, notwithstanding which its size is scarcely diminished.

But the richest iron mine of Sweden is that of Danmora, in the province of Upland. It is in depth eighty fathoms; occupies a considerable extent of territory; and its ore is conveyed to the surface of the earth, through several pits or openings made for that purpose, by means of casks fixed to large cables, which are put in motion by horses. The workmen standing on the edges of these casks, and having their arms clasped round the cable, descend and ascend with the utmost composure. The water is drawn from the bottom by a wheel sixty-six feet in diameter, and is afterward conveyed along an aqueduct nearly a mile and a half in length. At certain distances from Danmora, are several furnaces, with large and populous villages exclusively inhabited by the miners.

In Wraxall’s tour through the north of Europe, the mine of Danmora is described as yielding the finest iron ore in Europe, its produce being exported to every country, and constituting one of the most important sources of national wealth and royal revenue. The ore is not dug, as is usual in other mines, but is torn up by the force of gunpowder, an operation which is performed every day at noon, and is one of the most awful and tremendous that can possibly be conceived. “We arrived,” observes the tourist, “at the mouth of the great mine, which is nearly half an English mile in circumference, in time to be present at it. Soon after twelve the first explosion took place, and could not be so aptly compared to anything as to subterraneous thunder, or rather volleys of artillery discharged under ground. The stones were thrown up, by the violence of the gunpowder, to a vast hight above the surface of the ground, and the concussion was so great as to shake the surrounding earth or rock on every side.

“As soon as the explosion had ceased, I determined to descend into the mine, to effect which I had to seat myself in a large, deep bucket, capable of containing three persons, and fastened by chains to a rope. When I found myself thus suspended between heaven and earth by a rope, and looked down into the dark and deep abyss beneath me, to which I could see no termination, I shuddered with apprehension, and half repented my curiosity. This was, however, only a momentary sensation, and before I had descended a hundred feet, I looked round on the scene with very tolerable composure. It was nearly nine minutes before I reached the bottom; and when I set my foot on the earth, the view of the mine was awful and sublime in the highest degree. Whether, as I surveyed it, terror or pleasure formed the predominant feeling, is hard to say. The light of the day was very faintly admitted into these subterraneous caverns: in many places it was absolutely lost, and flambeaux were kindled in its stead. Beams of wood were laid across some parts, from one side of the rock to the other; and on these the miners sat, employed in boring holes for the admission of gunpowder, with the most perfect unconcern, although the least dizziness, or even a failure in preserving their equilibrium, must have made them lose their seat, and have dashed them against the rugged surface of the rock beneath. The fragments torn up by the explosion, previously to my descent, lay in vast heaps on all sides, and the whole scene was calculated to inspire a gloomy admiration.

“I remained three-quarters of an hour in these frightful and gloomy caverns, which find employment for not less than thirteen hundred workmen, and traversed every part of them which was accessible, conducted by my guides. The weather above was very warm, but here the ice covered the whole surface of the ground, and I found myself surrounded with the colds of the most rigorous winter, amid darkness and caves of iron. In one of these, which ran a considerable way beneath the rock, were eight wretched beings warming themselves round a charcoal fire, and eating the little scanty subsistence arising from their miserable occupation. They rose with surprise at seeing so unexpected a guest among them, and I was not a little pleased to dry my feet, which were wet with treading on the melted ice, at their fire.

“Having gratified my curiosity with a view of these subterraneous apartments, I made the signal for being drawn up, and felt so little terror while reascending, compared with that of being let down, that I am convinced, after five or six repetitions, I should have been perfectly indifferent to the undertaking. So strong is the effect of custom on the human mind, and so contemptible does danger or horror become when familiarized by repeated trials!”

Throughout the whole extent of Sweden, the iron mines at present wrought, employ thousands of persons, and yield annually upward of one hundred thousand tuns of metal. There are said to be between five and six hundred mines in the entire country, nearly half of which are situated in the central provinces: this, however, includes mines of all descriptions, though by far the most are of iron. The products of all these mines would be vastly greater than they are, were it not for the multiplied and unreasonable restrictions of the government.

The iron trade of the United States, and the domestic manufacture of iron, were spoken of by Mr. Gallatin, in a report to Congress, in 1810, as being firmly established. He was able to obtain very imperfect information about it, but it was known that iron ore was plentiful; that numerous forges and furnaces had been erected, supplying “a sufficient quantity of hollow-ware, and of castings of every description.” From Russia, about forty-five hundred tuns of bar iron were imported yearly, and perhaps another forty-five hundred from Sweden and England. A vague estimate gave fifty thousand tuns of bar iron as the annual consumption of the union, of which he considered forty thousand as the product of the republic. Some good iron was made in Virginia and Pennsylvania, but much inferior iron, carelessly manufactured, was brought into market. Of sheet, slit, and hoop iron, about five hundred and sixty-five tuns were annually imported; about seven thousand tuns were rolled and slit in the United States. Massachusetts had thirteen rolling and slitting mills, and the value of cut nails and brads made within the republic in a year, was estimated at twelve hundred thousand dollars. Nearly three hundred tuns of cut nails were exported. Agricultural implements were made at home, and much coarse ironmongery; but cutlery, fine hardware, and steel work, were brought from Britain. About forty thousand muskets were yearly made in New England and at Harper’s Ferry: also balls, shells, and brass and iron cannon, in various places. There were several iron founderies for machinery castings, and steam-engines had begun to be made at Philadelphia. Mr. Gallatin valued the iron and manufactures of iron then annually made at home, at from twelve to fifteen millions of dollars, and the imports at near four millions, as prices went.

Adam Seybert enumerates the domestic products of 1810, at 53,908 tuns of pig iron, from 153 furnaces; 24,541 tuns of bar iron from 330 forges; 15,727,914 pounds of nails (partly out of imported iron) from 410 naileries; and 6,500 tuns of iron were required at 316 trip-hammers and thirty-four rolling and slitting mills. His estimate of the value of the home manufacture is $14,364,526. In 1806 or 1807, Chancellor Livingston, then our minister to France, had to apply repeatedly to the British ministry for permission to buy in England, and export to New York, the steam-engine which Fulton put on board his first steamboat on the Hudson. Now, the manufacture of steam-engines is an important branch of our home industry.

In 1827-8, it was given in evidence before a committee of Congress, that Pennsylvania had made, during the past year, 21,800 tuns of bar iron, and 47,075 tuns of cast iron; that 3,000 tuns of bar iron were made near Lake Champlain; that three counties in New Jersey had made 2,050 tuns, and that in a circle of thirty miles’ diameter, in New York, there were one hundred and ten forge fires, each of them able to produce twenty-five to thirty-five tuns yearly. In 1830, a committee of Congress reported on the iron trade, and from their report and other later sources, we learn that that year 112,866 tuns of bar, and 191,537 of pig iron, worth $13,327,760, employing 29,254 men, who received $8,776,420 in wages, were made. Perhaps the quantity and number of workmen are overstated. In 1840, with improved machinery, only 30,497 men produced 484,136 tuns.

Without coal and iron, the United States and Britain never could have risen to the rank of first-rate powers. In fact, without iron, civilization must have made very slow progress, as must be evident to any one who will take the trouble to try seriously to enumerate the various articles essential to society, of which iron is an indispensable part.

In 1839-40, according to the official returns, which are imperfect, the United States produced, with 804 furnaces, 286,903 tuns of cast iron, and with 795 blomaries, forges and rolling-mills, 187,233 tuns of bar iron. The capital invested was nearly twenty and a half millions of dollars; the men employed, miners included, were 30,497, and 1,528,110 tuns of fuel were employed in these operations. The value of iron and steel, and their manufactures, imported in 1839-40, as per official returns, was $7,241,407. The estimated value of the iron made in the United States that year, was $22,778,635; of which sum $15,585,730 were for labor, including mining, transportation, coaling, hauling, &c. The persons employed in the iron manufacture, and their families, were estimated at 213,505, which, at twelve and a half cents each, per day, for agricultural products consumed, would give $9,741,166.

In 1845, the product of the union was estimated thus: 540 blast furnaces, yielding 486,000 tuns of pig iron; 954 blomaries, forges, rolling-mills, &c. yielding 291,600 tuns of bar, hoop, sheet, boiler, and other wrought iron, 30,000 tuns of blooms and 121,500 tuns of castings; value of the whole nearly forty-two millions of dollars.

The United States imported of iron, chiefly bar and bolt, rolled, hammered, or otherwise manufactured, and pig, hoop and sheet, in 1838-9, 115,637 tuns; in 1839-40, 72,769; 1840-1, 112,111; in 1841-2, 107,392; in 1842-3, 38,405.

In 1846-7, we find by the treasury report, that the United States exported of domestic manufactures, 3,197,135 pounds of nails, worth $168,817, of which Cuba took 2,317,550 pounds; also other articles of iron and steel to the value of $998,667, of which $478,681 to Cuba, and $162,020 to British North America. In that year, among the imports, chiefly from England, were 549 tuns of steel, value $1,126,458; 55,599 tuns of bar iron; 28,083 tuns of pig; 1,893 tuns of scraps; 6,167,720 pounds of chain cables; 13,410,556 pounds of sheet and hoop; 1,412,332 pounds of anvils; 921,845 pounds of nails; 361,423 pounds of anchors; 975,256 pounds of castings; 170,909 pounds of cast-iron butts; 431,916 pounds of band; 660,133 pounds of round or square; 347,737 pounds of nail or spike rods.

Official tables show that the imports of manufactures of steel and iron in 1839, were worth $6,507,510; in 1843, $1,012,086; in 1844, $3,313,796; in 1845, $5,077,788; and that in 1839, the value of pig and bar iron and steel imported was $6,302,539; in 1842 and 1845, nearly four millions each year; in 1843, $1,091,598; and in 1844, $2,380,027.

Some idea of the extent of the iron trade inland may be formed from the quantities carried on the canals. In 1847, there came to the Hudson on the New York canals, pig iron, 21,608,000 pounds; bloom and bar 26,348,000 pounds; iron ware, 3,014,000 pounds: 340 tuns of iron and iron ware were cleared on the canals at Buffalo and Oswego; St. Lawrence county, N. Y., shipped 515 tuns of pig, a surplus made there; 7,716 tuns of pig iron reached Buffalo via Lake Erie, and 1,256 kegs of nails; 15,103,565 pounds of iron and nails arrived at Cleveland via the Ohio canal, and 4,085 tuns of iron and 12,537 kegs of nails were shipped from Cleveland coastwise. There were cleared at Portsmouth, Chilicothe, Massillon, and Akron, in 1847, about 5,713 tuns of iron; 5,269,055 pounds of nails were shipped at Akron. The trade in coal and iron on the western rivers and lakes is very large.

Iron canal-boats were in common use in Wales thirty years ago: they are beginning to be made here; also war-steamers. Fences, and even porches to houses, are often of iron. The pipes for the Croton water in New York required many thousand tuns. The annual value of 150,000 tuns of iron ore of Maryland is worth $600,000 at Baltimore. A single foundery in Tennessee sold, in 1844, of sugar-kettles, $50,000 worth.

Child’s statistics show that in Pennsylvania, in 1847, there were made, at 213 furnaces, 98,395 tuns of cast iron, and at 169 blomaries, forges, &c., 87,244 tuns of bar iron, 11,522 men being employed, including limestone miners, and a capital of $7,751,470 invested. In 1846, there were 173,369 tuns manufactured, seven of the furnaces using anthracite coal. Forty furnaces, in 1847, were in blast, using anthracite, and producing 121,800 tuns of iron, at a reduced price, which price had induced capitalists to put up extensive rolling-mills. The American Quarterly Register has a list of nineteen anthracite rolling-mills in Pennsylvania, which make iron rails and plate, bar and rod, nails, axle and small iron.

The first bar of railroad iron ever manufactured in the United States, was made in 1841, and now it is said, one hundred thousand tuns could be made easily; while the annual product of iron from all the furnaces, which are said to be some three hundred in number, is estimated at over four hundred thousand tuns.

The yearly manufacture of iron in Great Britain, is now estimated at nearly three millions of tuns. In 1828, there were in Russia, nineteen founderies, forges and mines, and in 1804, that country exported to America over nine million pounds of iron. In 1819, France produced seventy-four million pounds of iron, and in 1845, this had increased to three hundred and forty-two millions, or over one hundred and fifty thousand tuns. Of iron and steel, and the various manufactures from them, Great Britain exported in 1845, to the extent of thirty-three millions.

COPPER MINES.

Copper (from =cuprum=, a corruption of =cuprium=, from the island of Cyprus, whence it was formerly brought) was known at a very remote period; and in the early ages of the world, before iron was extensively in use, was the chief ingredient in domestic utensils and instruments of war. It is abundant; and is found both native and in many ores, the most important of which are the varieties of pyrites, which are sulphurets of copper and iron. The genus copper includes some thirteen species, and each of these contains several varieties.

The purest copper obtained in Europe, is the produce of the mines of the Swedish province of Dalecarlia. The following is a brief description of the principal of these immense and gloomy caverns, all of which boast a high antiquity.

The traveler’s curiosity is first attracted by the hydraulic machines which convey the water to the different quarters, and the power of which is such, that one of the wheels has a diameter of not less than forty-four feet. Another wheel, of proportionate magnitude, is employed to raise the ore from the mine to the surface of the earth, and is admirably constructed. Regular circles are placed on each side, and round these the chain rises, taking a larger or smaller circumference, in proportion to the necessary circle to be made, so as to counterbalance the weight, and consequently the increased motion of the bucket.

Exteriorly, a vast chasm of a tremendous depth presents itself to the view. This being the part of the mine which was first opened, either through the ignorance or neglect of those who had then the management of the works, the excavations so weakened the foundations of the hill, that the whole fell in, leaving a most chaotic scene of precipitated rocks, and a gaping gulf resembling the mouth of a volcano. Great care has been since taken that no such disaster should again occur. Plans and sections are drawn of all the galleries, &c.; and where the prosecution of the works in the same direction might be dangerous, orders are issued for the miners to stop, and an iron crown is fixed on the spot, as a prohibition ever to proceed further. The workmen then explore in a different direction, while every subterraneous excavation is nicely watched.

The traveler passes into the great chasm by a range of wooden steps, which cross, in a variety of directions, the rough masses of fallen rocks, of gravel, and of the ancient machinery. Ere he reaches the entrance of the cavern, he has to descend nearly two hundred feet, and this being accomplished, proceeds horizontally to a considerable distance within. He now loses the pure air of day, and gradually breathes an oppressive vapor, which rolls toward him, in volumes, from the mouths of a hundred caves leading into the main passage. He now feels as if he were inhaling the atmosphere of Tartarus. The Swedish iron mines which have been described, are mere purgatories when compared with this satanic dwelling. The descent is performed entirely by steps laid in the winding rock; and, in following the subterraneous declivity, the traveler reaches the tremendous depths of these truly Stygian dominions.

The pestilential vapors which environ him with increasing clouds, and the style of the entrance, remind him of Virgil’s description of the descent of Eneas to the infernal regions. Here are to be seen the same caverned portico, the rocky, rough descent, and the steaming sulphur, with all the deadly stenches of Avernus. The wretched inmates of this gloomy cavern, appear to him like so many specters, as poetic fiction has described them: and he is induced by the length of the way, joined to the excessive heat and its suffocating quality, to fancy that he will be made to pay dearly for his curiosity. In one part the steam is so excessively hot, as to scorch at the distance of twelve paces, at the same time that the sulphureous smell is intolerable. Near this spot a volcanic fire broke out some years ago, in consequence of which strong walls were constructed, as barriers to its power, and several contiguous passages, which, had it spread, would have proved dangerous to the mine, closed up.

The visitor has now to traverse many long and winding galleries, as well as large vaulted caverns, where the workmen are dispersed on all sides, employed in hewing vast masses of the rock, and preparing other parts for explosion. Others wheel the brazen ore toward the black abyss, where the suspended buckets hang ready to draw it upward. From the effect of such violent exercise, combined with the heat, they are obliged to work almost naked. Their groups, occupations, and primitive appearance, scantily lighted by the trembling rays of torches, form a curious and interesting scene.

The depth of the mine being at least twelve hundred feet, a full hour is required to reach to the bottom. The mass of copper lies in the form of an inverted cone. Five hundred men are employed daily; but females are not admitted, on account of the deleterious quality of the vapors. This mine was anciently a state prison, in which criminals, slaves and prisoners of war toiled out their wretched existence. Near the bottom is a rocky saloon, furnished with benches. It is called the Hall of the Senate, on account of its having been the resting-place of several Swedish kings, who came, attended by the senators, to examine the works, and here took refreshments. It was in this mine that the immortal Gustavus Vasa, disguised as a peasant, labored for his bread, during a long concealment, after having been robbed by his guide; and his first adherents in the struggle which placed him on the throne, were from the miners and peasants of Dalecarlia.

In the year 1751, a very rich copper mine was wrought in the county of Wicklow, Ireland. From this mine ran a stream of blue-colored water, of so deleterious a nature as to destroy all the fish in the river Arklow, into which it flowed. One of the workmen, having left an iron shovel in this stream, found it some days after incrusted with copper. This led one of the proprietors of the mine to institute a set of experiments, from which he concluded that the blue water contained an acid holding copper in solution; that iron had a stronger affinity for the acid than copper; and that the consequence of this affinity was the precipitation of the copper, and the solution of the iron, when pieces of that metal were thrown into the blue water. These ideas induced the miners to dig several pits for the reception of this water, and to put bars of iron into them. The result was, that they obtained an abundance of copper, much purer and more valuable than that which they had procured from the ore itself by smelting.

On the island of Anglesea, near Dulas bay, on the north coast, is Parys mountain, which contains the most considerable quantity of copper ore perhaps ever known. The external aspect of the hill is extremely rude, and it is surrounded by enormous rocks of coarse white quartz. The ore is lodged in a basin, or hollow, and has on one side a small lake, over the waves of which, as over those of Avernus, fatal to the feathered tribe, it is said that birds are never known to pass. The effect of the mineral operations has been, that the whole of this tract has assumed a wild and savage appearance. Suffocating fumes of the burning heaps of copper arise in all parts, and extend their baneful influence for miles around. That the ore was worked in a very remote period, appears by vestiges of the ancient operations, which were carried on by trenching, and by heating the rocks intensely, when water was suddenly poured on them, so as to cause them to crack or scale. In the year 1768, after a long search, which was so little profitable that it was on the eve of being abandoned, a large body of copper ore was found; and this has ever since been worked to great advantage, still promising a vast supply. The water lodged in the bottom of the bed of ore, being strongly impregnated with the metal, is drawn up and distributed in pits, where the same process is employed as in the Wicklow mine. The copper thus procured differs little from native copper, and is very highly prized.

In the Parys mine, eight tuns of gunpowder are annually expended in blasting the rock. Nature has here been profuse in bestowing her mineral favors; for, above the copper ore, and not more than two feet beneath the soil, is a bed of yellowish greasy clay, from three to twelve feet in thickness, containing lead ore, from a tun of which metal, upward of fifty ounces of silver are generally obtained.

The copper mines of Cornwall, a view of one of which is given in the cut, are very numerous, and several of them large and very rich in ore. It is remarkable that in various parts of this country the earth has produced such an exuberance of this metal, as to afford it in large massy lumps of malleable copper, several pieces of which are shown in very curious vegetable forms. The particular ore named mundic, found in the tin mines, was for many ages considered of no other use but to nourish that metal while in the mine. In the reign of Queen Elizabeth, a laudable curiosity tempted several private individuals to examine into its nature; but the design miscarried, and the mundic was thrown, as useless, into the old pits in which the rubbish was collected. However, about a century ago, this purpose was effected by degrees; and the copper extracted from the ore now produces, on an average, upward of twelve thousand tuns, valued at between four and five millions of dollars, annually, equaling in goodness the best Swedish copper, while the ore itself yields a proportionate quantity of =lapis calaminaris=, for the making of brass.

At Ecton hill, near the river Dove, in Derbyshire, a valuable copper mine was discovered some years ago, and has since been worked to great advantage. In its position, situation and inclination, it differs from any mine yet discovered in Europe, Asia, Africa or America; the wonderful mass of copper ore not running in regular veins or courses, but sinking perpendicularly down, widening and swelling out at the bottom in the form of a bell. The works are four hundred and fifty feet beneath the river Dove, it being the deepest mine in Great Britain. On the opposite side of Ecton hill is a valuable lead mine, the veins of which approach very nearly to the copper mine.

Copper is converted into brass by the agency of calamine, an oxyd of zinc. It occurs frequently in beds, and in some places exists in great abundance. The Mendip hills, in Somersetshire, were once celebrated for their mines of calamine, which are now in a great measure exhausted. It is dug out of the earth, and being broken into small pieces, is exposed to the action of a current of water, which washes away the light earthy matter, and leaves the calamine. The whole is then thrown into deep wooden vessels filled with water, and agitated for a considerable time. The galena sinks to the bottom, the calamine is deposited in the center, and the earthy matter lies on the surface. The calamine, thus separated from its impurities, is ground to powder, and becomes fit for use.

Hungary abounds in valuable ores and minerals, and is most celebrated for its vast copper works, at a town called Herrengrund, built on the summit of a mountain, and exclusively inhabited by miners. Here the process, noticed above, of apparently converting iron into copper, is pursued with great success, several hundred weight of iron being thus transmuted every year. The vitriol, with which the blue water is strongly impregnated, can not be strictly said to convert the iron into copper, but insinuates into it the copper particles with which it is saturated; and this seeming transmutation requires a fortnight or three weeks only: but if the iron be suffered to lie too long in this vitriolic solution, it becomes at length reduced to powder.

In Japan, copper is the most common of all the metals, and is considered as the finest and most malleable anywhere to be found. Much of this copper is not only of the purest quality, but is blended with a considerable proportion of gold, which the Japanese separate and refine. The whole is brought to Saccin, one of the five principal cities of Japan; and it is there purified, and cast into small cylinders, about a span and a half in length, and a finger’s breadth in thickness. Brass is there very scarce, and much dearer than copper, the calamine employed in making it being imported from Tonquin in flat cakes, and sold at a very high price.

In addition to the copper mines thus described, copper has, within a few years, been found in the richest abundance in the vicinity of Lake Superior. The existence of copper there, was, indeed, known as early as 1636; and the trace of these early discoveries was never entirely lost. But the first scientific researches were made in 1842, by Dr. Douglas Houghton, who was acting as geological surveyor for the state of Michigan. According to his report, native copper exists in two or three different deposits about Lake Superior, where it is found in the richest abundance, both in veins and in large masses in the native state. Dr. Jackson also states, that he has seen one of these masses, twenty feet long, nine feet wide, and from four to six inches in thickness, and weighing about twenty tuns. He adds, that in a single year, thirty-three men, of whom only twenty were properly miners, had taken out forty-three tuns of ore, yielding thirty tuns of pure copper. Among the masses of copper obtained from these mines as early as 1848, were four, the weights of which, respectively, were seven thousand and eighteen, seven thousand four hundred and eighty-four, seven thousand six hundred and seventy-eight, and fourteen thousand pounds. Since that date new openings have been made; new mining companies formed, and the products of the mines very greatly increased: and it may yet be, that these mines will prove some of the richest and most valuable of the world.

TIN MINES.

Tin, in its pure state, has nearly the color and luster of silver. In hardness, it is midway between gold and lead. It was known to the ancients, who procured it from Spain and Britain, and appears to have been in use in the time of Moses. It is rather a scarce metal, being found in but few parts of the world in any considerable quantity. Cornwall is its most productive source; it also occurs in the mountains between Gallicia and Portugal, and in those between Saxony and Bohemia. It has, also, been brought from Malacca, in India, and from Chili and Mexico. There are but two ores of tin; one of which, the native peroxyd, is the chief source of all the supplies of this metal, as the other ore, which is the double sulphuret of tin and copper, sometimes called bell-metal ore, is extremely rare.

Cornwall has been in all ages, famous for its numerous mines of tin, which are in general very large, and rich in ore. The tin-works are of different kinds, dependent on the various forms in which the metal appears. In many places its ore so nearly resembles common stones, that it can only be distinguished from them by its superior weight. In other parts, the ore is a compound of tin and earth, concreted into a substance almost as hard as stone, of a bluish or grayish color, and to which the mundic, impregnated with copper, frequently gives a yellowish cast. This ore is always found in a continued stratum, which the miners call lode; and this, for the greater part, is found running through the solid substance of the hardest rocks, beginning in small veins near the surface, perhaps not above half an inch or an inch wide, and increasing, as they proceed, into large dimensions, branching out into several ramifications, and bending downward in a direction which is, generally, nearly east and west. These lodes, or veins, are sometimes white, very wide, and so thick, that large lumps of the ore are frequently drawn up of more than twenty pounds’ weight. The lodes of tin ore are not always contiguous, but sometimes break off so entirely, that they seem to terminate; but the sagacious miner knows by experience, that, by digging at a small distance on one side, he will meet with a separated part of the lode, apparently tallying with the other end, as nicely as if it had been broken off by some sudden shock of the rock.

The miners of Cornwall follow the lode, or vein, in all its rich and meandering curves through the bowels of the flinty earth. The waters are sometimes drained from the mines, by subterraneous passages, formed from the body of the mountain to the level country. These passages are called adits, and are occasionally the labor of many years; but when effected, they save the constant expense of large water-works and fire-engines. From the surface of the earth the workmen sink a passage to the mine, which they call a shaft, and place over it a large winch, or, in works of greater magnitude, a wheel and axle, by which means they draw up large quantities of ore at a time, in vessels called kibbuls. This ore is thrown into heaps, which great numbers of poor people are employed in breaking to pieces, and fitting the ore for the stamping-mills.

A third form in which tin appears is that of crystals; for this metal will, under proper circumstances, readily crystallize. Hence, in many parts of the mineral rocks, are found the most perfectly transparent and beautiful crystals of pure tin. Beside these crystals, in many of the cavernous parts of the rocks, are found those transparent crystals, called Cornish diamonds, they being extremely brilliant when well polished. The form is that of a six-sided prism pointed on the top, and they are sometimes four or five inches in length. The value of the tin exported from Great Britain, in 1853, the greater part of which came from the Cornwall mines, was nearly six million dollars.

LEAD MINES.

Lead is one of the metals most anciently known, being mentioned in the books of Moses. It is found in some thirteen species of ore, only one of which (galena) occurs in masses sufficiently large to make it valuable as an object of mining and metallurgy. The uses of lead are so familiar that they need not be mentioned: they are known to all.

Among the most remarkable lead mines of the world, may be mentioned those of the state of Illinois, including also parts of Iowa and Wisconsin, which have been, and still are immensely productive, extending over thousands of acres, and furnishing the mineral in the richest abundance. These mines were formerly known as the mines of “Upper Louisiana.” They are now chiefly worked in the vicinity of Galena, a city which has sprung up, and is almost entirely supported by the trade in lead. So vast is the production of these mines, that forty million pounds of lead, valued at sixteen hundred thousand dollars, were shipped from Galena alone, in 1853. The mineral in one of the earliest opened mines, is said to be of two kinds, the gravel and fossil. The gravel mineral is found immediately under the soil, intermixed with gravel, in pieces of solid mineral weighing from one to fifty pounds. Beneath the gravel is a sand rock, which being broken, crumbles to a fine sand, and contains mineral nearly of the same quality as that of the gravel. But the mineral of the first quality is found in a bed of red clay, under the sand rock, in pieces of from ten to five hundred pounds’ weight, on the outside of which is a spar, or fossil, of a bright, glittering appearance, resembling spangles of gold and silver, as solid as the mineral itself, and of a greater specific gravity. This being taken off, the mineral is solid, unconnected with any other substance, of a broad grain, and what mineralogists call potters’ ore. In other mines, in the vicinity of the above, the lead is found in regular veins, from two to four feet in thickness, containing about fifty ounces of silver in a tun.

In Great Britain, there are numerous and exceedingly valuable lead mines, among which may be cited that of Arkingdale, in Yorkshire, and those with which Shropshire abounds. In the south of Lanarkshire, and in the vicinity of Wanlock-head, Scotland, are two celebrated lead mines, which yield annually above two thousand tuns of metal. The Susannah-vein lead-hills, have been worked for many years, and have been productive of great wealth. The above are considered as the richest lead mines of Europe.

Several of the Irish lead mines have yielded a considerable proportion of silver; and mention is made of one, in the county of Antrim, which afforded, in thirty pounds of lead, a pound of that metal. Another, less productive of silver, was found at Ballysadare, near the harbor of Sligo, in Connaught; and a third in the county of Tipperary, thirty miles from Limerick. The ores of this last were of two kinds, most usually of a reddish color, hard and glittering; the other, which was the richest in silver, resembled a blue marl. The works were destroyed in the Irish insurrections in the reign of Charles I. The mine, however, is still wrought on account of the lead it contains.

COAL MINES.

Coal is one of the most valuable of all mineral treasures, and one that is of the highest service in making the others available to the use and comfort of man. And hence it has been searched after with unremitting diligence, and worked with all the lights of science and the resources of art. It is found in beds or strata, in that group of the secondary rocks which includes the red sandstone and mountain limestone formations, commonly called the carboniferous group, or the coal measures. From the peculiarities of their position, they are often spoken of as coal-basins, and coal-fields.

There are two or three points of some theoretical interest and importance as to the origin of coal, on which geological authorities are nearly unanimous. One is, that our present coal is exclusively of vegetable origin, formed apparently from the destruction of vast forests and immense quantities of leaves and shrubs; another, that it was formed when the climate of the regions where it is found was not merely tropical, but ultra-tropical, instead of being as now, temperate; and a third, that its deposits, though originally regular, have evidently been since elevated, and often singularly dislocated and contorted by forces acting from below, and probably of a volcanic nature. Each of these points will more or less appear in the progress of the following remarks.

That the coal formations are of vegetable origin, is perfectly evident from even a slight examination, especially with the microscope. Let a piece of coal be cut in very thin slices, or plates, and its appearance will be like that seen in the following cut. The vegetable fossils thus shown are, indeed, very different from any existing species, unless it be a few which are the productions only of torrid climates. And while the cut gives the appearance of but a single leaf in each specimen, the masses of coal are generally more like one thick imbedded mass of leaves, not so much crushed together, as overlaying and mixed with each other. According to Dr. Linley, the coal vegetation consisted of ferns, in great abundance; of large coniferous trees, of a species resembling =lycopodiacæ=, but of most gigantic dimensions; of a numerous tribe apparently analogous to =cactæ=, but probably not identical with them; of palm, and other monocotyledones; and finally, of numerous vines, plants, &c., the exact nature of which is uncertain. Where leaves most abound, the coal is said to be of the best quality; though as any one kind of coal hardens, the impressions of such leaves become gradually less distinct, until finally they can hardly be traced, even with a powerful magnifier. A hundred and twenty varieties of these vegetable impressions have been found in the vicinity of Pottsville, in the course of a few months, each as distinctly marked as the most delicate tracings of an artist’s pencil; and in almost any coal formation, there are so many hundreds of different plants, trees, and flowers, that a single representative of each kind would form a vast museum. Specimens which exhibit impressions of the bark, limbs, or trunks of trees, are, of course, correspondingly large and heavy, and could not easily be sketched in a small engraving, while the variety of leaves and flowers is so great, that it would be tedious to mention and describe them.

With these few remarks, we proceed to notice first, some of the coal mines of Great Britain, and then some of our own country. Perhaps there is no country where coal mines are so rich, so frequent, and so successfully worked thus far, as those of Great Britain; and it is to this cause that the opulence of that country has often been chiefly ascribed. It is, in truth, the coal of her mines, that is the very life of her manufactures, and consequently of her commerce, every manufacturing town being established in the midst of a coal country. Of this striking instances are afforded by Bristol, Birmingham, Wolverhampton, Sheffield, Newcastle, and Glasgow.

The coals of Whitehaven and Wigan are esteemed the purest; and the cannel and peacock coals of Lancashire are so beautiful, that they are suspected by some to have constituted the gagates, or jet, which the ancients ascribed to Great Britain. In Somersetshire, the Mendip coal mines are distinguished by their productiveness: they occur there, as indeed in every other part, in the low country, and are not to be found in the hills. The beds of coal are not horizontal, but sloping, dipping to the south-east at the rate of about twenty-two inches per fathom. Hence they would speedily sink so deep that it would not be possible to work them, were it not that they are intersected at intervals by perpendicular dikes or veins, of a different kind of mineral, on the other side of which these beds are found considerably raised up. They are seven in number, lying at regular distances beneath each other, and separated by beds of a different kind of substance, the deepest being placed more than two hundred feet beneath the surface of the earth.

The town of Newcastle, in Northumberland, has been celebrated during several centuries for its very extensive trade in coal. It was first made a borough by William the Conqueror, and the earliest charter for digging coals, granted to the inhabitants, was in the reign of Henry III., in 1239; but in 1306, the use of coal for fuel was prohibited in London, by royal proclamation, chiefly because it injured the sale of wood, with which the environs of the capital were then overspread. This interdict did not, however, continue long in force; and coals may be considered as having been dug for exportation at Newcastle for more than four centuries. It has been estimated that there are twenty-four considerable collieries lying at different distances from the river, from five to eighteen miles; and that they produced, for an average of six years, up to the close of 1776, an annual consumption of three hundred and eighty thousand chaldrons, Newcastle measure, (equal to seven hundred and seventeen thousand, six hundred and fifteen chaldrons, London measure,) of which about thirty thousand chaldrons were exported to foreign parts. The boats employed in the colliery are called keels, and are described as strong, clumsy, and oval, each carrying about twenty tuns; and of these four hundred and fifty are kept constantly employed. In the year 1776 an estimate was made of the shipping employed in the Newcastle coal trade; and from this estimate it appears, that three thousand, five hundred and eighty-five ships, were during that year engaged in the coasting trade, and three hundred and sixty-three in the trade to foreign ports, their joint tunnage amounting to seven hundred and thirty-eight thousand, two hundred and fourteen tuns.

As already said, it is a common opinion among geologists, that coal is of vegetable origin, and that it has been brought to its present state by the means of some chemical process, not at this time understood. This opinion is abundantly supported by the existence of vast depositions of matter, halfway, as it were, between perfect wood and perfect coal; which, while it obviously betrays its vegetable nature, has in several respects so near an approximation to coal, as to have been generally distinguished by the name of coal. One of the most remarkable of these depositions exists in Devonshire, about thirteen miles south-west of Exeter, and is well known under the name of Bovey coal. Its vegetable nature has been ascertained by Mr. Hatchet, in a set of experiments in which he found both extractive matter and resin, substances which belong to the vegetable kingdom.

The beds of this coal are seventy feet in thickness, and are interspersed with beds of clay. On the north side they lie within a foot of the surface, and dip south at the rate of about twenty inches per fathom. The deepest beds are the blackest and heaviest, and have the closest resemblance to coal, while the upper ones strongly resemble wood, and are considered as such by those who dig them. They are brown, and become extremely friable when dry, burning with a flame similar to that of wood, and assuming the appearance of wood which has been rendered soft by some unknown cause, and, while in that state, has been crushed flat by the weight of the incumbent earth. This is the case, not only with the Bovey coal, but also with all the beds of wood-coal which have been hitherto examined in different parts of Europe.[5]

Footnote 5:

We are informed by Liebig and other eminent chemists, that when wood and other vegetable matter are buried in the earth, exposed to moisture, and partially or entirely excluded from the air, they decompose slowly, and evolve carbonic acid gas; thus parting with a portion of their original oxygen. By this means they are gradually converted into lignite, or wood-coal, which contains a larger proportion of hydrogen than wood does. A continuance of decomposition changes this lignite into common or bituminous coal, chiefly by the discharge of carbureted hydrogen, or the gas by which we illuminate our streets and houses. According to Birchoff, the inflammable gases which are always escaping from mineral coal, and are so often the cause of fatal accidents in mines, always contain carbonic acid, carbureted hydrogen, nitrogen, and olefiant gas. The disengagement of all these gradually transforms ordinary or bituminous coal into anthracite, to which the various names of splint-coal, glance-coal, culm, and many others, have been given.

The coal mines of Whitehaven may be considered as among the most extraordinary in the known world. They are excavations which have, in their structure, a considerable resemblance to the gypsum quarries of Paris, and are of such magnitude and extent, that in one of them alone, a sum exceeding half a million sterling, was, in the course of a century, expended by the proprietors. Their principal entrance is by an opening at the bottom of a hill, through a long passage hewn in the rock, leading to the lowest vein of coal. The greater part of this descent is through spacious galleries, which continually intersect other galleries, all the coal being cut away, with the exception of large pillars, which, where the mine runs to a considerable depth, are nine feet in hight, and about thirty-six feet square at the base. Such is the strength there required to support the ponderous roof.

The mines are sunk to the depth of one hundred and thirty fathoms, and are extended under the sea to places where there is, above them, sufficient depth of water for ships of large burden. These are the deepest coal mines which have hitherto been wrought; and perhaps the miners have not, in any other part of the globe, penetrated to so great a depth beneath the surface of the sea, the very deep mines in Hungary, Peru and elsewhere, being situated in mountainous countries, where the surface of the earth is elevated to a great hight above the level of the ocean.

In these mines there are three strata of coal, which lie at a considerable distance one above the other, and are made to communicate by pits; but the vein is not always continued in the same regularly inclined plane, the miners frequently meeting with hard rock, by which their further progress is interrupted. At such places there seem to have been breaks in the earth, from the surface downward, one portion appearing to have sunk down, while the adjoining part has preserved its ancient situation. In some of these places the earth has sunk ten, twenty fathoms, and even more; while in others the depression has been less than one fathom. These breaks the miners call dikes, and when they reach one of them, their first care is to discover whether the strata in the adjoining part are higher or lower than in the part where they have been working; or, according to their own phrase, whether the coal be cast down or cast up. In the former case they sink a pit; but if it be cast up to any considerable hight, they are frequently obliged, with great labor and expense, to carry forward a level, or long gallery, through the rock, until they again reach the stratum of coal.

Coal, the chief mineral of Scotland, has been there worked for a succession of ages. Pope Pius II., in his description of Europe, written about 1450, mentions that he beheld with wonder black stones given as alms to the poor of Scotland. This mineral may, however, be traced to the twelfth century; and a very early account of the Scottish coal mines, explains with great precision, the manner of working the coal, not neglecting to mention the subterraneous walls of whin which intersect the strata, particularly a remarkable one, visible from the river Tyne, where it forms a cataract, and passes by Prestonpans, to the shore of Fife. The Lothians and Fifeshire, particularly abound with this useful mineral, which also extends into Ayrshire; and near Irwin is found a curious variety, named ribbon-coal. A singular coal, in veins of mineral, has been found at Castle Leod, in the east of Ross-shire; and it is conjectured that the largest untouched field of coal in Europe, exists in a barren tract of country in Lanarkshire.

The process of mining coal is a combination of boring and digging. Shafts are sunk, levels are driven, and drains are carried off, by the help of picks or pickaxes, wedges and hammers, the rocks being also sometimes loosened by blasting with gunpowder. In searching for coal, a shaft is sunk through the uppermost soft stratum, and the rock is then bored, by striking it continually with an iron borer terminating in an edge of steel, which is in the mean time turned partly round; and, at proper intervals, a scoop is let down to draw up the loose fragments. In this manner a perforation is sometimes made for more than an hundred fathoms, the borer being lengthened by pieces screwed on; it is then partly supported by a counterpoise, and worked by machinery. Should it happen to break, the piece is raised by a rod furnished with a hollow cone, as an extinguisher, which is driven down on it. The borer is sometimes furnished with knives, which are made to act on any part at pleasure, and to scrape off a portion of the surrounding substance, which is collected in a proper receptacle.

Those who have the direction of deep and extensive coal mines, are obliged, with great art and care, to keep them ventilated with perpetual currents of fresh air, which afford the miners a constant supply of that vital fluid, and expel from the mines damps and other noxious exhalations, together with such other burnt and foul air, as has become deleterious and unfit for respiration. In the deserted mines, which are not thus ventilated with currents of fresh air, large quantities of these damps are frequently collected; and in such works they often remain for a long time without doing any mischief. But when, by some accident, they are set on fire, they then produce dreadful explosions, and, bursting out of the pits with great impetuosity, like the fiery eruptions from burning mountains, force along with them ponderous bodies to a great hight in the air.

Various instances have occurred in which the coal has been set on fire by the fulminating damp, and has continued burning for several months, until large streams of water were conducted into the mine, so as to inundate the parts where the conflagration existed. By such fires several collieries have been entirely destroyed, in the vicinity of Newcastle, and in other parts of England, as well as in Fifeshire, in Scotland. In some of these places the fire has continued to burn for ages. To prevent, therefore, as much as possible, the collieries from being filled with these pernicious damps, it has been found necessary carefully to search for the crevices in the coal whence they issue, and, at those places, to confine them within a narrow space, conducting them through large pipes into the open air, where, being set on fire, they consume in perpetual flame as they continually arise out of the earth.

Mr. Spelling, an engineer of the Whitehaven coal mines, having observed that the fulminating damp could only be kindled by flame, and that it was not liable to be set on fire by red-hot iron, nor by the sparks produced by the collision of flint and steel, invented a machine called a steel-mill, in which a wheel of that metal is turned round with a very rapid motion, and, by the application of flints, great plenty of sparks are emitted, which afford the miners such a light as enables them to carry on their work in close places, where the flame of a candle, or a lamp, would, as has already happened in various instances, occasion violent explosions. In that dreadful catastrophe, the explosion of the Felling colliery, the particulars of which will be hereafter detailed, it will be seen that mills of this description were employed, in searching for the remains of the victims of the sad disaster; but this event happened before the invention of Sir Humphrey Davy’s safety-lamp, a discovery which, while it affords a more certain light, holds out every security to the miner against accidents which, without such a resource, might still be superadded to those already recorded, as arising from the flame of a candle or lamp.

A greater number of mines have, however, been ruined by inundations than by fires; and here that noble invention, the fire-engine, displays its beneficial effects. It appears from nice calculations, that it would require about five hundred and fifty men, or a power equal to that of one hundred and ten horses, to work the pumps of one of the largest fire-engines, having a cylinder seventy inches in diameter, now in use, and thrice that number of men to keep an engine of that size constantly at work. It also appears that as much water may be raised by such an engine, as can be drawn, within the same space of time, by twenty-five hundred and twenty men with rollers and buckets, after the manner long practiced in many mines; or as much as can be borne on the shoulders of twice that number of men, as is said to be done in several of the mines of Peru. So great is the power of the elastic steam of the boiling water in those engines, and of the outward atmosphere, which, by their alternate actions give force and motion to the beam, and through it to the pump rods which elevate the water through tubes, and discharge it from the mine!

Years since there were four fire-engines belonging to the Whitehaven colliery, which when all at work, discharged from it about twelve hundred and twenty-eight gallons of water every minute, at thirteen strokes; and at the same rate, one million, seven hundred and sixty-eight thousand, three hundred and twenty gallons, upward of seven thousand tuns, every twenty-four hours. By these engines nearly twice the above-mentioned quantity of water might be discharged from mines not more than sixty or seventy fathoms deep, which depth is rarely exceeded in the Newcastle collieries, or in any other English collieries, with the exception of the above.

Coal pits have sometimes taken fire by accident, and have continued to burn for a considerable length of time. About the year 1648, a coal mine at Benwell, a village near Newcastle-upon-Tyne, was accidentally kindled by a candle: at first the fire was so feeble, that a reward of half a crown, which was asked by a person who offered to extinguish it, was refused. It gradually increased, however, and had continued burning for thirty years, when the account was drawn up and published in the Philosophical Transactions: it was not finally extinguished until all the fuel was consumed. Examples of a similar kind have happened in Scotland and in Germany.

But of all the recorded accidents relative to coal mines, that of Felling colliery, near Sunderland, a concise narrative of which here follows, was the most disastrous.

Felling is a manor about a mile and a half east of Gateshead. It contains several strata of coal, the uppermost of which were extensively wrought in the beginning of the last century. The stratum called the high-main, was begun in 1779, and continued to be wrought till the nineteenth of January, 1811, when it was entirely excavated. The present colliery was in the seam called the low-main. It commenced in October, 1810, and was at full work in May, 1812. This mine was considered by the workmen as a model of perfection in the purity of its air, and orderly arrangements; its inclined plane was saving the daily expense of at least thirteen horses; the concern wore the features of the greatest possible prosperity, and no accident, except a trifling explosion of fire-damp, slightly burning two or three workmen, had occurred. Two shifts, or sets of men, were constantly employed, except on Sundays. Twenty-five acres of coal had been excavated. The first shift entered the mine at four o’clock, A. M., and were relieved at their working-posts by the next at eleven o’clock in the morning. The establishment employed under ground, consisted of about one hundred and twenty-eight persons, who, from the eleventh to the twenty-fifth of May, 1812, wrought six hundred and twenty-four scores of coal, equal to thirteen hundred Newcastle, or twenty-four hundred and fifty-five London chaldrons.

About half past eleven o’clock, on the morning of the twenty-fifth of May, 1812, the neighboring villages were alarmed by a tremendous explosion in this colliery. The subterraneous fire broke forth with two heavy discharges from the low-main, which were almost instantaneously followed by one from the high-main. A slight trembling, as from an earthquake, was felt for about half a mile around the workings; and the noise of the explosion, though dull, was heard to three or four miles’ distance, and much resembled an unsteady fire of infantry. Immense quantities of dust and small coal accompanied these blasts, and rose high into the air, in the form of an inverted cone. The heaviest part of the ejected matter, such as corves, pieces of wood, and small coal, fell near the pits; but the dust, borne away by a strong west wind, fell in a continued shower from the pit to the distance of a mile and a half. As soon as the explosion was heard, the wives and children of the workmen ran to the pit; the scene was distressing beyond the power of description.

Of one hundred and twenty-eight persons in the mine at the time of the explosion, only thirty-two were brought to daylight: twenty-nine survived the fatal combustion; the rest were destroyed. Nor from the time of the explosion till the eighth of July, could any person descend. But after many unsuccessful attempts to explore the burning mine, it was reclosed, to prevent the atmospheric air from entering it: this being done, no attempt was afterward made to explore it, till the morning of the last-mentioned day; from which time to the nineteenth of September, the heart-rending scene of mothers and widows examining the putrid bodies of their sons and husbands, for marks by which to identify them, was almost daily renewed; but very few of them were known by any personal mark; they were too much mangled and scorched to retain any of their features. Their clothes, tobacco-boxes, shoes, &c., were, therefore, the only indexes by which they could be recognized.

At the crane twenty-one bodies lay in ghastly confusion: some like mummies, scorched as dry as if they were baked. One wanted its head, another an arm. The scene was truly frightful. The power of fire was visible upon them all; but its effects were extremely variable: while some were almost torn to pieces, there were others who appeared as if they had sunk down overpowered with sleep. The ventilation concluded on Saturday the nineteenth of September, when the ninety-first body was dug from under a heap of stones. At six o’clock in the morning the pit was visited by candle-light, which had not been used in it for the space of one hundred and seventeen days; and at eleven o’clock in the morning the tube furnace was lighted. From this time the colliery has been regularly at work; but the ninety-second body has never yet been found. All these persons, except four, who were buried in single graves, were interred in Heworth chapel-yard, in a trench, side by side, two coffins deep, with a partition of brick and lime between every four coffins.

Having thus glanced at some of the coal mines of Great Britain, we now pass to some of those of the United States. In these coal is found in four different forms: first, the genuine anthracite, or glance coal, as near Worcester, Mass., and Newport, R. I.; second, coal destitute of bitumen, commonly called anthracite, but which is more properly anasphaltic, which is found at Pottsville, Mauch Chunk, Lackawanna, Wilkesbarre, &c.; third, bituminous coal, usually found in the slate rock, as at Tioga, Lycoming, etc.; and fourth, the lignite coal, found along the south shore of the bay of South Amboy, New Jersey. From the state of Alabama to Pictou, Nova Scotia, the coal beds can be followed in a north-east direction, for fifteen hundred miles; and from Richmond, in Virginia, to Rock River, in Illinois, they are continually crossed at right angles, for about eight hundred miles. At Richmond, the coal is bituminous; on the Alleghany belt, it is anthracite. Geologists think that the anthracite was lifted out of its horizontal position when the great Alleghany belt was upheaved, and that its non-bituminous quality is owing to the influence of the intense heat that accompanied its upheaval.

Taylor, in his book on coal, estimates the area of bituminous coal in the United States, east of the Mississippi river, at one hundred and twenty-four thousand, seven hundred and thirty-five square miles, and west of the Mississippi, at eight thousand, three hundred and ninety-seven square miles; British North America, eighteen thousand square miles bituminous. More than one-third of the area of Pennsylvania, is more or less marked by coal formations; one-third of Kentucky, Ohio and Virginia, one-fifth of Indiana, and three-fourths of Illinois, are occupied by carboniferous strata. Western Pennsylvania abounds in bituminous coal, and it is found also in several counties of New York. By the census of 1839-40, we find that the quantity of bituminous coal produced that year in the United States, was twenty-seven million, six hundred and three thousand, one hundred and ninety-one bushels, employing about four thousand men, and a capital of some two million dollars; and that about four million dollars of capital were invested in raising anthracite coal, of which some nine hundred thousand tuns (of about twenty-eight bushels each) were produced by the labors of about three thousand men. Most of this was from Pennsylvania.

In 1819, the anthracite coal trade had no existence; in 1820, this kind of coal was first used as fuel, and just three hundred and sixty-five tuns were sent to market; in 1845, the amount was two million tuns; in 1850, about three million, five hundred thousand tuns, and the present year (1854) the amount will probably be between six and seven million tuns. The demand and supply so steadily and rapidly increase that it is impossible to estimate the vast extent the business of coal mining is yet to attain.

Glancing for a moment at other countries, we find that Belgium, in 1845, had two hundred and twelve mines, employing thirty-eight thousand miners and five hundred steam-engines, and producing five million tuns; France, four hundred and forty-nine mines, employing thirty thousand miners, and producing five million tuns; Prussia, in 1840, seven hundred and fifty-two mines, employing twenty-four thousand miners, and raising three million, five hundred thousand tuns; and that Great Britain, in 1846, produced thirty-five million tuns, valued at forty-five million dollars at the mines. Austria and Spain, also, have excellent mines, though less productive. And as a late and interesting discovery, it may be added, that the recent Arctic expedition sent out from England, found coal in those northern regions, on the island of Disco, outcropping near the shore. They also, in another locality not far off, discovered some curious specimens of petrified trees, and near them extensive quarries of anthracite coal, of good quality. There appeared to be no limit to the quantity that might be thrown into a boat with ease, and in the space of three hours they conveyed not less than twelve tuns to the steamer, three-quarters of a mile distant. It proved, on trial, to be of good quality, the combustion was perfect, and the coal as economical as the Welsh.

We will conclude the subject of coal mines, with the statement of a recent tourist, as to some of the wonders of the Cornish mines in England, as he saw them in 1854. He says: “Some of the mines are truly grand undertakings. The ‘consolidated mines,’ the largest of the Cornish group, employ upward of three thousand persons. One of the engines pumps water from a direct depth of sixteen hundred feet, the weight of the pumping apparatus alone being upward of five hundred tuns; the pumping-rod is one thousand, seven hundred and forty feet long, and it raises about two million gallons of water in a week, from a depth equal to five times the hight of St. Paul’s. These are, indeed, wonders to marvel at! The consolidated and united mines, both belonging to one company, are stated to have used the following vast quantities of materials in a year: coals, fifteen thousand, two hundred and seventy tuns; candles, one hundred and thirty-two thousand, one hundred and forty-four pounds; gunpowder, eighty-two thousand pounds; leather, for straps, &c., thirteen thousand, four hundred and ninety-three pounds; pick and shovel handles, sixteen thousand, six hundred and ninety-eight dozens. Sir Charles Lemon has estimated, that in the whole of the Cornish mines, thirteen thousand pounds’ worth of gunpowder is used annually; that the timber employed in the underground works, equals the growth of one hundred and forty square miles of Norwegian forest; and that thirty-seven million tuns of water are raised annually from the mines.”

SALT MINES.

Hence with diffusive salt old Ocean steeps, His emerald shallows, and his sapphire deeps. Oft in wide lakes, around their warmer brim, In hollow pyramids the crystals swim; Or, fused by earth-born fires, in cubic blocks Shoot their wide forms, and harden into rocks.—DARWIN.

Culinary salt, or, as it is termed in chemistry, muriate of soda, exists abundantly in a native state, both in a solid form, and dissolved in water. It occurs, in solution, not only throughout the wide range of the ocean, but in various springs, rivers and lakes; and is known, in its solid form, as a peculiar mineral, under the names of rock-salt, fossil salt, and salt-gem. Its beds are mostly beneath the surface of the ground, but sometimes rise into hills of considerable elevation. At Cordova, in Spain, a hill, between four and five hundred feet in hight, is nearly composed of this mineral. But the most celebrated salt mines are those of Wielicza, in Gallicia, commonly called the salt mines of Cracow, those of Tyrol, of Castile, (in Spain,) and of Cheshire, in England. In the province of Lahore, in Hindoostan, is a hill of rock-salt, of equal magnitude with that near Cordova. The mines of Iletski, in Russia, yield vast quantities of this substance. It is so plentiful in the desert of Caramania, and the air so dry, that it is there used as a material for building. It forms the surface of a large part of the northern desert of Lybia; and is found in great abundance in the mountains of Peru. It has a pure saline taste, without any mixture of bitterness; and crystallizes in cubes when obtained by slow evaporation from its solution. In Germany the mines of this kind are numerous: one of the largest is that of Hallein, near Saltzburg, in which the salt is hewn out from subterraneous caverns of a considerable range, and exhibits almost every diversity of color, as yellow, red, blue and white; in consequence of which it is dissolved in water, to be liberated from its impurities, and afterward recrystallized. The salt mines of Cracow, and those of Cheshire, merit a particular description.

SALT MINES OF CRACOW.

Thus, cavern’d round, in Cracow’s mighty mines, With crystal walls a gorgeous city shines; Scoop’d in the briny rock long streets extend Their hoary course, and glittering domes ascend: Down their bright steeps, emerging into day, Impetuous fountains burst their headlong way, O’er milk-white vales in ivory channels spread, And wondering seek their subterraneous bed. Form’d in pellucid salt, with chisel nice, The pale lamp glittering through the sculptur’d ice, With wild reverted eyes fair Lotta stands, And spreads to heaven, in vain, her glassy hands; Cold dews condense upon her pearly breast, And the big tear rolls lucid down her vest. Far gleaming o’er the town, transparent fanes Rear their white towers, and wave their golden vanes: Long lines of lusters pour their trembling rays, And the bright vault resounds with mingled blaze.—DARWIN.

These celebrated excavations are about five miles distant from the city of Cracow, in a small town named Wielicza, which is entirely undermined, the cavities reaching to a considerable extent beyond its limits. The length of the great mine, a view of which is seen on the next page, from east to west, is six thousand feet; its breadth, from north to south, two thousand; and its greatest depth eight hundred; but the veins of salt are not limited to this extent, the depth and length of them, from east to west, being yet unknown, and their breadth only, hitherto determined. There are at present ten shafts; and not a single spring has been discovered throughout the extent of the mine.

In descending to the bottom, the visitor is surprised to find a kind of subterraneous commonwealth, consisting of many families, who have their peculiar laws and polity. Here are likewise public roads and carriages, horses being employed to draw the salt to the mouths of the mine, where it is taken up by engines. These horses, when once arrived at their destination, never more see the light of the sun; and many of the people seem buried alive in this strange abyss, having been born there, and never stirring out; while others are not denied frequent opportunities of breathing the fresh air in the fields, and enjoying the surrounding prospects. The subterraneous passages, or galleries, are very spacious, and in many of them chapels are hewn out of the rock-salt. In these passages crucifixes are set up, together with the images of saints, before which a light is kept constantly burning. The places where the salt is hewn out, and the empty cavities whence it has been removed, are called chambers, in several of which, where the water has stagnated, the bottoms and sides are covered with very thick incrustations of thousands of salt crystals, lying one on the other, and many of them weighing half a pound and upward. When candles are placed before them, the numerous rays of light reflected by these crystals emit a surprising luster.

In several parts of the mine, huge columns of salt are left standing, to support the rock; and these are very fancifully ornamented. But the most curious object in the inhabited part, or subterraneous town, is a statue which is considered by the immured inhabitants as the actual transmutation of Lot’s wife into a pillar of salt; and in proportion as this statue appears either dry or moist, the state of the weather above ground is inferred. The windings in this mine are so numerous and intricate, that the workmen have frequently lost their way; and several, whose lights have been extinguished, have thus perished. The number of miners to whom it gives employment, is computed at between four and five hundred; but the whole amount of the men employed in it is about seven hundred.

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