For whilst thine eye with rapture dwelleth On the varied charms of heaven and earth; With gratitude thy bosom swelleth To HIM-who spoke them into birth; Religion breathes her holiest balm; Minstrel and friend farewell!-Though Vaileth such meed of praise as mine; Tho' this rude wreath may ill requite thee For beauty-breathing strains like thine, Yet, whilst that tie remains unbroken, Which kindred souls account so dear, Not valueless thoul't deem the token Thus offered from a heart sincere. Farewell!-Twill be joy enough for me If it guile but an hour of gloom from thee! July 20, 1819. ERUPTIONS OF MOUNT ETNA IN 1809 AND 1811, IN A LETTER TO A FRIEND, FROM AN EYE-WITNESS. as I can recal to memory, but it will necessarily be very imperfect, after a lapse of so many years.-To begin with the eruption in 1809. We then resided at Messina, sixty miles distant from the mountain. I think it was on the 27th of March, early in the morning, that we were called up by our English servants, telling us with terrified looks, that it rained or snowed all black! In truth, I found upon rising, that the streets, courtyard, and balconies were covered inch thick, and in some places more, with a substance resembling coarse gunpowder, which continued falling. I soon guessed the cause of it, which was not long afterwards confirmed by a messenger from Catania, announcing an Eruption. After about an hour, the lava ashes ceased falling, but the clouds were still impregnated with them. We could see them moving on to the Faro, ten miles further north, SOME ACCOUNT OF THE TWO LAST and understood afterwards that ashes had fallen in quantities a great way out at sea, I suppose a hundred miles from the mountain. In about two hours more, another fall took place at Messina, and as the wind had shifted quite in a contrary direction, it was evident that this last matter did not come direct from Etna, but from the same clouds which had passed us before, and now in returning discharged their burthen, a circumstance which I have thought it worth mentioning, as it chews that clouds may be loaded, and retain for a long time more solid substances than watery particles. I do not think I have seen this mentioned elsewhere, but you may rely upon its correctness. In the afternoon I set off on horseback for the mountain, in company with General A., General Sir L. C., and Colonel L. (now Sir H.) The view of Etna on the Messina side is intercepted by high land, until you come to Taormina, about half way. The first sight, although upwards of twenty miles off in a direct line, struck us with awe. It was grand beyond description, and could only be equalled and surpassed by the nearer view which we had afterwards. Already we heard the roaring_thunder of the explosion. The bright flames of the volcano illuminated the whole country round, which was covered with the lava ashes all the way we travelled, destroying the vegetation for this year, but it must be added, that in the end In my letter of the 29th of June, I am sorry to say I promised more than I am able to fulfil. Upon looking over my old memoranda, I cannot find the account which I had drawn up of my excursion to Mount Etna during the eruption of 1809. It has either not been returned to me by some one to whom I had lent it, or else I have destroyed it, not thinking it worth preserving, as there are so many other better accounts which are published. Among others, I can refer you to one tolerably good, which I have lately seen in the Encyclopedia Metropolitana, now in the course of publishing. It is written, I believe, by a countryman of yours. Yet I think I mentioned to you before my surprise at finding, that in a work which lays claim to the utmost correctness, this is called the last eruption of Etna, whereas there was another in 1811, many years before this article was published, which was quite as violent as that in 1809, and Continued for about eight months, though perhaps not quite so interesting, owing to the different situations of the craters. As I was a near eye witness to both, I will endeavour, as you desire it, to give you as good an account as I can, of such particulars it adds to the fertility of the soil, I mean where it falls in this light way, but not where the great masses of lava fall, or where the streams of it overwhelm the country,—there a total annihilation follows for many years, if not centuries. As we approached the mountain, the grains became larger, increasing from the size of gunpowder to that of pea, a nut, a walnut, and so on, till they became large fragments of rocks several yards in diameter. We stopped at Taormina, and advanced next day to Linguagrossa, a small town on the north-east side of the mountain, within a few miles of the present eruption, which was higher up in an angular direction between Castiglione and Piemonte. Here we learned, while taking some refreshment, that soon after daylight the day before, there had been a violent concussion of the mountain, with a terrible noise; that columns of smoke and fire issued from the principal great crater on the summit, but soon ceased: That about seventeen different craters opened soon after wards down the side of the mountain, some of which were already extinct, while the principal force seemed to have united several others into one great crater, towards which we ascended at night. This was situated not quite half way up the mountain, in a wood of magnificent oak and fir trees, from the bosom of which issued a column of fire and smoke, to whose grandeur no description or painting can do justice, accompanied by a thundering and roaring voice, much louder than the continued discharge of several hundred cannons, musketry, and sky-rockets; the dark part of the smoke being bespangled, and alternately illuminated by the smaller explosions in the air, which appeared like so many stars rising and falling. The whole scene was awful and magnificent beyond all conception. The earth shook under us incessantly, but it was a tremulous motion, not like to an earthquake, at least not to any earthquake of the many I have felt. It must be observed, that the operation is twofold. First the explosions from the crater, which are incessant and tremendous, throw up matter of all kinds, ashes, and cinders, and various shaped stones and rocks of immense sizes, which fall down again in showers. The smaller VOL. V. particles are scattered, and partly carried away by the wind and clouds. Our hats and cloaks were continually covered with hot cinders, which we were obliged to shake off; the larger fragments we avoided as well as we could, and the great masses fall back more or less perpendicularly, after having been carried into the air ac cording to their sizes, from 200 to 1000 feet, which adds to the grandeur of the scene. The second operation. is that of the huge boiling cauldron running over, that is, the liquid lava vomiting from the crater's mouth, which formed a stream of liquid fire of various breadths, according to the shape of the ground, say from 30 to 400 yards, and from 20 to 40 feet in depth, or more. To ascertain as well as we could the rapidity of the stream, we paced it, accompanying objects which were floating on it in a burning state, and its motion might be at the rate of three miles an hour, perhaps four at the quickest, but this depends upon the shape of the ground; at the head of the stream the progress was very slow, so that we could stand close in front, (except where there are declivities,) and retreat from before it as it advanced, but then this was already five or six miles from the mouth of the crater, where the impulse is terrible. In the night the scene was most sublime, all was in a blaze, while in the day the crust of the stream looks dark, niixed with a fiery red, of which a good coal fire covered with hot cinders, all in motion, might give a faint miniature picture. We came within a stone's throw of the princi pal crater, (there was still another one at work not far from this,) and walked close by the stream of fire, skreening ourselves behind trees from the reflection of the heat, a continuance of which would not have been bearable. We had taken a piece of beef and a gridiron with us, and dressed a beef-steak on the lava which we had poked out of the stream with long poles, and many English officers whom we met there partook in our repast; it was voted very good, only tasting a little of the sulphur. While we were standing close to the stream, admiring the grandeur of the scene, we observed, all of a sudden, that one of the highest branches of a very tall tree, behind which I had sheltered myself, was actually in flames, while the rest of the tree was, or appeared perfectly sound. Conjecture was, of course, immediately at work how this could happen,-most opinions (naturally) were, that it had caught fire from some of the scattered burning lava, which indeed covered and fell all round us; but Dr F. who was more scientific than the rest of us, supposed that the fire had ascended through the root and marrow of the tree, and burst out into flames when it came in contact with the air at the top. This opinion was verified afterwards by our observing that whole trees, (many of which were floating down burning on the lava,) when burst open before they were consuined, were always found black inside, which appeared to have been burnt before the outside, and, indeed, the root having been burnt first, they fell a prey sooner to the fury of the stream, though such assistance was not at all necessary to a force which nothing could withstand. A farther confirmation of this theory was received, by our finding the next day, when we ascended again, that the whole ground on which we had passed the greatest part of the night before, had totally disappeared, or rather was ingulphed in the general destruction, so that it is to be presumed, that the ground under us must have been hollow sometime before we left it. The stream of lava took an irregular direction, consuming much valuable wood, and some vineyards, but fortunately did not come near any villages or town, so as to hurt them. It stopped short at Baron Cognogne's house, from which it took a different turn, and divided into two branches. It was calculated that it had completely covered about sixteen miles of territory. Those of the inhabitants whose property was involved were more patient under the calamity than the poorer sort, they (the former) only said, "Come vuole Dio," God's will be done! The priests came out with a crowd of people in procession from Castiglione and Linguagrossa, invoking the patron saints, and beating their breasts; they carried their images to the head of the stream, imploring them to stop its progress, one of which images was to their great grief consumed by the lava. We set up a subscription for these poor people on our return to Messina. As before said, we ascended again the next day, (having made Linguagrossa our headquarters,) in order to examine the whole more minutely; we did not know the country again, such had been the devastation, but the night view is the most grand, indeed it is so terrific and sublime, that it is impossible for any mortal to behold it without being forcibly impressed with his own insignificance. What is human power and grandeur to this! it shrinks to nothing before it! The eruption of 1811 took place on the 27th of October, and continued for about six or eight months more or less; it broke out after the same preliminary shaking and roaring of the mountain in a vast irregular hollow, called the Val de Bove," which it filled up with lava, and by that means did much less mischief than the other, but was nearly equal in violence. This was on the east side of Etna, about half way up. You know I took my wife and children to see this. The awfulness of the scene when we came within about twenty miles of it, together with the roaring noise as we approached nearer, made me fear at first that I should not be able to bring them to the spot; but singular as it may appear, after a certain time, the nearer we approached, the more courage they gained, and at last all nervousness disappeared. I can only ascribe this to the imposing grandeur of the scene, which seems to leave no room for any other feeling than that of admiration. On the way, and on the spot, we met many other English families, and among others that of General A. We ascended at night from Giarre. E. who was then a little girl, not quite ten years old, was on horseback before my groom, and was the first of our party that got to a little eminence, from whence a full and tolerably close view of this blazing crater, and of the running lava, burst upon us, and I remember her exclaiming aloud, "Oh, mamma, come and see this beautiful sight! We here alighted from our horses, and skirted the stream of liquid fire, rolling so majestically, and consuming every thing in its way, trees, brushwood, &c. which added a crackling noise to the more terrific and thundering explosions from the crater, while the earth was continually shaking under us. The beau ty of the scene was considerably heightened by the bushes in a hundred different places taking fire, I mean flaming, though no conflagration was to be apprehended, as they were almost instantly overwhelmed by the lava. After having remained for a considerable time, I will not say having satisfied our curiosity, for that would have been almost impossible, we retreated to a gentleman's country house, called Milo, of which the key had been given to me, near a small village of the same name. Here we were within three miles of the eruption, but still the house shook continually under us, owing to the uninterrupted explosion, and from the windows we had a full view of the blaze from the crater, which was so magnificent and awful, that we could hardly persuade our selves to sit down to a good supper, much less go to bed, which, however, at last we did, and, notwithstanding the incessant roaring and thundering noise, and the trembling and shaking of the house, slept for some hours very composedly. To both the eruptions many hundreds of English officers went; the road was almost like a procession, while hardly any of the Sicilians had the curiosity to visit them. I only know of two that did, and these were, one a scientific gentleinan from Catania, and the other our friend Padre Benedetto Chiavetta, an enlightened Benedictine friar. These are my recollections; I am sorry I can only give you so imperfect a sketch. Yours, &c. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE CHARACTER FESSOR PLAYFAIR. IT has struck many people, we believe, as very extraordinary, that so eminent a person as MR PLAYFAIR should have been allowed to sink into his grave in the midst of us, without calling forth almost so much as an attempt to commemorate his merit, even in a common newspaper; and that the death of a man so celebrated and so beloved, and, at the same time, so closely connected with many who could well appreciate and suitably describe his excellences, should be left to the brief and ordinary notice of the daily obituary. No event of the kind certainly ever excited more general sympathy; and no individual, we are persuaded, will be longer or more affectionately remembered by all the classes of his fellow citizens: and yet it is to these very circumstances that we must look for an explanation of the apparent neglect by which his memory has been followed. His humbler admirers have been deterred from expressing their sentiments by a natural feeling of unwillingness to encroach on the privilege of those, whom a nearer approach to his person and talents rendered more worthy to speak of them,-while the learned and eloquent among his friends have trusted to each other for the performance of a task which they could not but feel to be painful in itself, and not a little difficult to perform as it ought to be; or perhaps have reserved for some more solemn occasion that tribute for which the public impatience is already at its height. We beg leave to assure our readers that it is merely from anxiety to do something to gratify this natural impatience that we presume to enter at all upon a subject to which we are perfectly aware that we are incapable of doing justice: For of Mr Playfair's scientific attainments,-of his proficiency in those studies to which he was peculiarly devoted, we are but slenderly qualified to judge: But, we believe, we hazard nothing in saying that he was one of the most learned mathematicians of his age, and among the first, if not the very first, who introduced the beautiful discoveries of the later continental geometers to the knowledge of his countrymen, and gave their just value and true place, in the scheme of European knowledge, to those important improvements by which the whole aspect of the abstract sciences has been renovated since the days of our illustrious Newton. If he did not signalize himself by any brilliant or original invention, he must, at least, be allowed to have been a most generous and intelligent judge of the achievements of others, as well as the most eloquent expounder of that great and magnificent system of knowledge which has been gradually evolved by the successive labours of so many gifted individuals. He possessed, indeed, in the highest degree, all the characteristics both of a fine and a powerful understanding,at once penetrating and vigilant,-but more distinguished, perhaps, for the caution and sureness of its march, than for the brilliancy or rapidity of its movements, and guided and adorned through all its progress by the most genuine enthusiasm for all that is grand, and the justest taste for all that is beautiful in the Truth or the Intellectual Energy with which he was habitually conversant. To what account these rare qualities might have been turned, and what more brilliant or lasting fruits they might have produced, if his whole life had been dedicated to the solitary cultivation of science, it is not for us to conjecture; but it cannot be doubt ed that they added incalculably to his eminence and utility as a Teacher; both by enabling him to direct his pupils to the most simple and luminous methods of inquiry, and to imbue their minds, from the very commencement of the study, with that fine relish for the truths it disclosed, and that high sense of the majesty with which they were invested, that predominated in his own bosom. While he left nothing unexplained or unreduced to its proper place in the system, he took care that they should never be perplexed by petty difficulties, or bewildered in useless details, and formed them betimes to that clear, masculine, and direct method of investigation, by which, with the least labour, the greatest advances might be accomplished. Mr Playfair, however, was not merely a teacher; and has fortunately left behind him a variety of works, from which other generations may be enabled to judge of some of those qualifications which so powerfully recommended and endeared him to his contemporaries. It is, perhaps, to be regretted that so much of his time, and so large a proportion of his publications, should have been devoted to the subjects of the Indian Astronomy, and the Huttonian Theory of the Earth. For though nothing can be more beautiful or instructive than his speculations on those curious topics, it cannot be dissembled that their results are less conclusive and satisfactory than might have been desired; and that his doctrines, from the very nature of the subjects, are more ques tionable than we believe they could possibly have been on any other topic in the whole circle of the sciences. To the first, indeed, he came under the great disadvantage of being unacquainted with the Eastern tongues, and without the means of judging of the authenticity of the documents which he was obliged to assume as the elements of his reasonings; and as to the other, though he ended, we believe, with being a very able and skilful mineralogist, we think it is now generally admitted that that science does not yet afford sufficient materials for any positive conclusion; and that all attempts to establish a Theory of the Earth must, for many years to come, be regarded as premature. Though it is impossible, therefore, to think too highly of the ingenuity, the vigour, and the eloquence of those publications, we are of opinion that a juster estimate of Mr Playfair's talent, and a truer picture of his ge nius and understanding, is to be found in his other writings;-in the papers, both biographical and scientific, with which he has enriched the Transactions of our Royal Society;-his account of De Laplace, and other articles which he is understood to have contributed to the Edinburgh Review, the Outlines of his Lectures on Natural Philosophy,—and, above all, his Introductory Discourse to the Supplement to the Encyclopædia Britannica, with the final correction of which he was occupied up to the last moments that the progress of his disease allowed him to dedicate to any intellectual exertion. With reference to these works, we do not think we are influenced by any national, or other partiality, when we say that he was certainly one of the best writers of his age; and even that we do not now recollect any one of his contemporaries who was so great a master of composition. There is a certain mellowness and richness about his style, which adorns, without disguising the weight and nervousness, which is its other great characteristic,-a sedate gracefulness and manly simplicity in the more level passages, and a mild majesty and considerate enthusiasm where he rises above them, of which we scarcely know where to find any other example. There is great equability, too, and sustained force in every part of his writings. He never exhausts |