The Veils

Carinthia, a duchy of Austria, formerly celebrated for its mines of gold and silver, &c. ↩

From the commencement of English history, there is no prince, except Alfred, on whose character and exploits the memory dwells with so much fondness, as on those of the sable Edward. The valour and prudence which won the battles of Crecy and Poictiers, two of the most celebrated in our annals, lose their praise in admiration of the moderation and humanity of the youthful hero, even in the moment of victory. ↩

“Edward ordered a repast to be prepared in his tent for the prisoner, (King John,) and lie himself served at the royal captive’s table, as if he had been one of his retinue. He stood at the King’s back during the meal, constantly refused to take a place at table, and declared that, being a subject, he was too well acquainted with the distance between his own rank and that of majesty to assume such freedom. All his father’s pretensions to the crown of France were now buried in oblivion: John, in captivity, received the honours of a king, which were refused him when seated ou the throne: his misfortunes not his title were respected.” — Hume. ↩

Spenser’s Faery Queene, Book III. Canto IV. ↩

A variety of metallic preparations have been used by the ladies of different countries for this purpose, particularly the oxyds of bismuth and antimony. Among the Medes it was not confined to the fair sex; at least Xenophon, in his Cyroptedia, describes Astyages as having his eyes painted. The custom still prevails in the Levant. ↩

The geranium pratense, or blue geranium, which grows in meadows, and by the banks of streams; a very beautiful and elegant plant. ↩

The myosotis, or scorpion grass, is a beautiful plant which grows abundantly by the side of running waters. It has a small blue flower, with agolden eye in the centre, and is a great favourite with the Germans, who call it “Forget me not.” These flowers, or their enamelled resemblance, are frequently interchanged as tokens of regard. The “Forget me not” of the Germans is by some believed to be the veronica chamaedrys, which is also a beautiful blue flower. ↩

If a plant be taken out of the ground and inverted, its parts also invert their functions. What was formerly the root becomes green, and leaves and flowers shoot out in the place of fibres. The inverted stem on the contrary grows rigid, and soon assumes the appearance and the functions of the root. — Lectures delivered at the Royal Institution, by Dr. now Sir James Edward Smith. ↩

The principal, if not the only food of plants, appears to be water, from which, when exposed to the action of the solar light, all their various secretions are produced. The beautiful green of the leaves, the vivid tints of the flower, their fragrance, the flavour of the fruit, with their endless variety in the different species, all seem to be derived from one source; and plants, whose properties and secretions are the most different, grow in equal luxuriance side by side. — Smith’s Lectures. ↩

The tetradynamia, or plants with cruciform flowers, are all, when boiled, wholesome and nutritious. There is also a more extended criterion. The fruits of flowers having the stamina inserted into the calyx may be eaten with safety, and are generally agreeable, but flowers having the stamina inserted into the receptacle are always to be suspected. — Smith’s Lectures. ↩

If the bulb of the tulip be opened, the rudiments of the future leaves and even the embryo of the flower may be seen. — Smith’s Lectures. ↩

The decay of our apples has excited much apprehension. Some of the finest kinds are nearly extinct, and others have evidently degenerated. Many attempts have been made to supply this loss by grafting favourite apples upon young stocks, but in vain. This has proved to be only the extension of an individual, not the production of a new one, and as the parent tree decayed, the grafts decayed also. To prevent the loss of so valuable a fruit, Mr. Knight sowed a quantity of the seeds of our best apples, in hope that, although a great majority would be merely crabs, out of many thousands he might procure a few valuable apples. His efforts have not been unsuccessful, and many of the new varieties promise to vie, in size and flavour, with the finest of the old ones. — Smith’s Lectures. ↩

This passage is intended as a slight description of the phenomenon called the Bore or Agar, occasioned by the sudden influx of the tide into a river. Those rivers which have a wide embouchure, that becomes suddenly contracted, are most subject to it. The tide rushing up the stream, drives back the descending water, and the vessels upon it find themselves instantly raised many feet above their former level. In England the Severn is particularly subject to the Bore; but it is most remarkable in the Indian rivers, the principal branches of the Ganges, the Megna, and the Hoogly. ↩

See “The Flower and the Leaf.” ↩

Cordova, or Corduba as it was anciently called, was founded by the Romans. It was afterwards in possession of the Goths, and then of the Moors, who were expelled in 1236 by Ferdinand the Third, who first united the crowns of Castille and Leon. From this time Cordova, hitherto the seat of learning, declined, and that star, which had shone amidst darkness and barbarism, sunk ere the dawn returned to Europe. ↩

Granada was early in the possession of the Moors, but the kingdom was dissolved in 1221. In 1236, fresh bands pouring over from Africa, Granada became the seat of opulence and splendour, and the Moorish capital of Spain. In speaking of Granada, historians and geographers become poetical, and describe in glowing terms its fertile valley, bounded by mountains, and watered by the Genil and the Guadalquivir; its hills covered with groves of orange, of mulberry, and of olive; the magnificence of its palaces, and the splendour of its court, where the manners of chivalry received a peculiar colouring from the luxury of Africa. At the time mentioned in the poem, the sceptre of Granada was held by Jusef Hacen Hamet, the seventh king of Granada. Those who are fond of romantic history will be gratified by the translation of the Civil Wars of Granada, by Mr. Rodd. ↩

This is an anachronism. The apartment here alluded to was not added to the Alhambra till the reign of Muley Hascem, the father of Boabdelin, who lost his crown to Ferdinand and Isabella. The walls had the appearance of gold, and are supposed to have been a composition of the yolks of eggs, Muley Hascem also built the celebrated court of Lions. ↩

The Sierra Nevada, or snowy mountain. ↩

This was a martial game, in which the young nobles fought in squadrons, and canes supplied the place of lances. Tilting was usually performed with canes, but at the tournament lances were used. ↩

It was the custom for the Moorish or Spanish youth to denote their affection by wearing the favourite colours of their ladies. The language of flowers is still so well understood by the ladies of Spain, that it might be dangerous for the uninitiated to present a nosegay. ↩

Alfonzo XI obtained a signal victory over the Moors in 1340, at which time Alziras was taken, and the kingdom of Granada made tributary. He was killed in the siege of Gibraltar, which he had lost before, and succeeded by his son, Peter the Cruel. — Puffendorf. ↩

“Là, j’entendois rouler sous mes pieds un torrent qui se frayoit, à travers les glaces et les neiges, une route invisible, dont il ne sortoit que cinquante toises plus bas, pour se précipiter du haut d’un escarpement de rocliers, dans le grand vallon de neige. La position pouvoit devenir dangereuse, à la longue; je la quittai bientôt.” — Ramond’s Observations faites dans les Pyrenees. ↩

See Spenser and Ariosto. ↩

These lines allude to the law of definite proportions, as started by Mr. Dalton, and farther developed by Professor Davy, and also to the rules of crystallization as lately defined. The French chemists have asserted that bodies do not combine in fixed proportions, but in proportion to their relative quantities; for instance, that carbonate of lime would, according to the relative quantities of its elements at its formation, contain a greater or less proportion of carbonic acid, or of lime. But the experiments of Davy and others appear completely to disprove this assertion, and establish Mr. Dalton’s theory. Carbonate of lime is uniformly found to consist of 44 parts of carbonic acid and 56 of lime. Nor does a body capriciously combine in different proportions with different substances. Whatever may be the definite proportion of the body with which it enters into combination, its own remains the same; or should it be augmented, the portion added is always either a multiple or a divisor of the original quantity. Thus oxygen, in all its various unions, with hydrogen, with nitrogen, or with the metals, preserves its fixed proportion of 15 parts by weight, and where more is added, the extra portion is always equal either to 7½ or to 15. Thus nitrous oxyde consists of one proportion or 26 grains of nitrogen united to one proportion, or 15 grains of oxygen, making together 41, which is the proportion in which nitrous oxyde again combines with other bodies to make a tertiary compound. Nitric oxyde consists of 26 grains of nitrogen, united to two proportions, or 30 grains of oxygen, making together 56. Nitrous acid consists of 26 grains of nitrogen, united with four proportions, or 60 grains of oxygen, making together 86. And nitric acid consists of 26 grains of nitrogen united with five proportions, or 75 grains of oxygen, making together 101. Thus in all these combinations the same law is observed.

Nor are the laws of crystallization less denned. A body unexamined may be known by the form of its crystals, and even where the general shape, as in different rhomboids, appears the same, the angles are found to differ. Thus in calcareous spar, from whatever quarter procured, however small or however large the crystals, whether whole, as taken from the mine, or broke: into a number of smaller ones, the form procured is always the rhomboic and that rhomboid has always the same angle, 105 degrees. Other bodies have a rhomboidal crystal, but no other rhomboid has the same angle. — Davy and Brande’s Lectures. ↩

Gold was in all probability the first metal discovered, as it is much more frequently found native than any of the others, and if so, the age of gold, the age of silver, &c. have probably derived their names not so much from any supposed alteration in the state or character of man, as from the discovery of the metals whose name they bear. Davy’s Lectures. ↩

Brass is an artificial metal, formed by the union of copper and zinc, which is an operation of some nicety; for if the fire, that is necessary to unite them, be too long continued, the zinc flies off, and leaves the copper again pure. This is attempted to be allegorically expressed in the poem. ↩

Copper is more frequently found united with sulphur than with any other substance. ↩

The six primitive rocks; granite, porphyry, marble, serpentine, schist, and sienite. ↩

The word Γεϱανιτς, geranites, granite, has sometimes been derived from Γεϱανος, geranos, a crane, as its colours are supposed to resemble those of the stork’s neck; but its name is more commonly supposed to have originated in its granular structure. ↩

Porphyry is usually found in smaller blocks than granite, and porphyrytic mountains do not attain so great a height. ↩

Pure primitive marble is distinguished by its sparkling, or sparry fracture, and unblemished whiteness. ↩

The various and beautiful tints frequently observed in ophites, or serpentine, are owing to the admixture of steatite, or soap rock. ↩

Schist is said to derive its name from its bright and shining appearance. Sienite, not differing greally in its composition from granite, is frequently of a dull crimson. ↩

The ores of copper are remarkable for the variety and brilliancy of their hues. ↩

Stypterion, from Στυπτηρια, alumine or clay, pure argillaceous earth, one of the most indestructible substances in nature, and parent of all the gems known by the name of oriental, and included in the barbarous term Corundum: the oriental topaz, emerald, and sapphire, &c. &c.

Nothing can be more different than the characters which alumine imparts to the gems and to the earths; in the first, hard, brittle, brilliant, and pellucid; in the second, opaque, devoid of lustre, and exhibiting, when broken, an earthy fracture. The argillaceous earths are soft to the touch, but harden by fire, absorb water greedily, retain it obstinately, and form, when moistened, a ductile and tenacious mass. When exposed to the action of heat they become, first of a bluish black, then white; they contract and exhibit variou? cracks and fissures, but fire has no farther action upon them, except in increasing the contraction. On this account pyrometers have been constructed of clay, with the hope of being able to measure very high degrees of temperature; but they are uncertain, as the clay does not contract uniformly in the same heat, and is almost as much affected by the duration, as the increase of temperature. ↩

Titanos, chalk. There is a general similarity in the appearance of all the calcareous stones. They are usually nearly white, opaque, and devoid of lustre, and are not sufficiently hard to scratch glass. ↩

Silex is one of the hardest substances in nature, and the bodies in which it abounds are abundantly diffused. It enters into the composition of the primitive rocks> but is not generally soluble in water, though the Geysers of Iceland, and some springs near Bath, prove that peculiar circumstances may render it so. Siliceous stones are more or less transparent,,nave a fine polish, and scratch glass. To this order belong all those gems which the lapidaries distinguish by the term occidental, in opposition to the oriental, or aluminous gems: also the carnelian, sardonyx, agate, opal, mocha, jasper, chalcedony, garnet, &c. &c. ↩

Adamas, the diamond, which, though usually placed at the head of the gems, is very different in its composition. No bodies can differ more in external appearance, than charcoal, plumbago or black lead, and the diamond, yet their chemical analysis affords similar results. The diamond burns, like plumbago and charcoal, into pure carbonic acid, and the difference in their aspect probably arises, either from a slight excess or deficiency in the oxygen combined with the carbon, or perhaps only from the different form and arrangement of the particles in crystallization. In coal mines, the stratum of coal is occasionally seen passing, by sensible gradations, into plumbago. Some have supposed plumbago to be charcoal united with iron. Charcoal and plumbago are excellent conductors of electricity, but the diamond is a perfect non-conductor, which strengthens the idea that it contains a portion of oxygen combined with its carbonaceous basis, as this gas, however small in quantity, always destroys conducting power in the body with which it is combined. ↩

The magnesian stones have almost all a green colour, and a shining, or silky appearance. They are soft and may be cut with a knife, and are seldom more than semi-transparent. They do not contract or harden on exposure to heat. ↩

Barytes and strontia have not long been added to the catalogue of earths, and the stones in which they are predominant are not numerous. The barytic stones are particularly distinguished for their weight, which long before the discovery of the metal barium, by Professor Davy, gave rise to the suspicion that they must contain a metallic basis. They have a spongy appearance; when exposed to heat they emit a phosphorescent light, and they may be scratched with a knife.

The colour of strontia is generally whitish or light green. Its surface is a little shining in parts, it is brittle, has a slight transparency, and may be scratched with a knife. ↩

The earth called ittria is only found in gadolinite; zircon only in the stone which bears its name, and in the hyacinth; glucine is found in the beryl, in the Peruvian emerald, or smaragd, and in the euclase.

It is to be wished, that it were practicable to avoid the mixture of the barbarous nomenclature of modern mineralogy with the more sonorous names of the Greek. ↩

The amianthus is more flexible than the asbestos. The ancients possessed the art of weaving its fibres into a kind of cloth which, when cleansed by fire, was of a dazzling whiteness, and, from its incombustibility, was purchased, in the days of Roman luxury, at an exorbitant price, to wrap the bodies of persons of superior rank on the funeral pyre. Their ashes were thus prevented from mingling with those of the wood. The art of weaving amianthine cloth is now lost, or at least neglected. The Tarantaise amianthus is most celebrated; but it is found in many countries: in Cornwall and Anglesea; in the islands of Corsica and Elba; in Saxony and in Sweden, &c. &c. &c. ↩

See Ariosto. ↩

Nitre detonates with a slight heat. ↩

No artificial heat has hitherto been sufficient to fuse charcoal, but under the action of the immense Voltaic apparatus at the Royal Institution, directed by Professor Davy, it became much hardened, and a small portion assumed the gaseous form. Were it possible to fuse charcoal, it is probable that, by the addition of a minute portion of oxygen, and suffering it to cool very slowly, artificial diamonds might be formed. ↩

The oriental amethyst is a variety of corundum, differing only in colour from the oriental sapphire, topaz, and ruby. When exposed to heat it loses its colour, and is of such dazzling brilliancy as to be frequently mistaken for the diamond. The occidental or common amethyst is merely quartz, tinged naturally of a deep violet hue, by iron or manganese. It likewise loses its colour in the fire, but at the same time is deprived of its lustre, becomes opaque, and of a milky white, owing to an infinity of small cracks which are discoverable by the microscope. It is chiefly found in the neighbourhood of Carthagena in Spain. The Greeks and Arabians wore the amethyst as an amulet to prevent drunkenness, whence its name ἅμεθυστος. ↩

Advantage is here taken of the flexibility of the asbestos to give a little variety to the costume. ↩

The pumices of the island of Santorine and others appear from analysis to have originated in the combustion of asbestos, and the refractory nature of that mineral proves the great potency of the volcanic fire which has produced them. ↩

Πυραφλεκτος, pyraphlectos, burning, but not consumed by fire. ↩

Cambuscan. ↩

The zinc, which gives to brass its yellow colour, flies off at a much lower temperature than the copper. ↩

When acted upon by fire, iron, cobalt, nickel, tellurium, and most of the metals, fly off in sparks, but zinc burns with a beautiful green flame, and its gaseous oxyde rises in clouds of white smoke. ↩

The aventurine is a beautiful stone, consisting of brown, green, or red quartz or felspar, interspersed with small laminae of mica, which give it a spangled appearance: it is very brittle. It comes from France and from Siberia. ↩

The diamond, when exposed to the action of fire, burns (as already stated) into pure carbonic acid. This gas possesses the property of extinguishing flame, and is equally destructive to the slow combustion of animal respiration. It is heavier than common air, in the proportion of 47 to 31, and this density in some degree opposes the tendency of gaseous bodies to universal diffusion, so that an accumulation of carbonic acid gas is frequently found near the floors of caverns, (as in the celebrated Grotto del Cane, at Naples,) at the bottom of deep wells, and of large beer vats; also in mines, where it passes by the name of the Choak Damp, and is often productive of the most fatal effects, as persons who inhale this poisonous air have no power to withdraw themselves from its influence, but fall instantly senseless, and those who hasten to their assistance arrive but to share their fate. In descending to such places, it is always prudent first to lower a candle, as a test of the atmosphere, as wherever that will burn, man may breathe. ↩

The fixed alcalies, potash and soda, were known to the chemists of Bagdad as early as the reign of the Caliph Haroun Alraschid, and the word alcali is of Arabian origin. The alcalies are possessed of the highest degree of negative electricity. As oxygen, even in minute quantities, destroys conducting power, and as the alcalies are perfect non-conductors, it was supposed that they consisted of oxygen united with a basis, but of what nature was unknown, since they successfully resisted every effort that was made to decompose them, and had hence obtained the name of fixed alcalies. Professor Davy happily thought of applying to them the energies of voltaic electricity, and triumphing by his ingenuity over the difficulties presented by their want of conducting power, he obtained the most glorious and unexpected results in the discovery of their metallic bases, which he denominated sodium and potassium. The discovery of the alcaline metals quickly led to that of four others, which he named from their parent earths, calcium, magnium, barium, and strontium. These metals have all a high metallic lustre, but on exposure to the air they immediately begin to tarnish, in a few minutes they are covered with a white crust, and by combining with the oxygen in the atmosphere return to their original earth or alcali. When thrown into water, the avidity with which they enter into combination with oxygen is so great that they take fire and burn in the fluid. Potassium alone, which is lighter than water in the proportion of six to ten, floats and burns on the surface. From this eagerness of combination in these metals, and from their lightness, it is necessary to keep them in naphtha, the lightest fluid known. Silex, alumine, zircon, and glucine, have, like the other earths, given indications of metallic bases, but as these have not been obtained pure, Professor Davy does not think himself authorized to call them metals.

In addition to the six metals that owe their birth to Professor Davy, M. Berzelius, the Swedish chemist, has obtained a seventh more unlooked for than any, in the metallic basis of ammonia, the volatile alcali. If a few drops of solution of ammonia be poured on a large globule of mercury, or if the mercury be placed in a cup of carbonate or muriate of ammonia, it immediately expands to six times its former bulk, and is converted into a soft solid, which is an amalgam of ammonium. As yet this metal has not been obtained pure, and its proportion in the amalgam is so small, that the least contact with the air is sufficient to regenerate the ammonia.

The metallization of ammonia has opened new views in chemistry, and appears to prove that neither the gases nor the metals are simple substances. Ammonia consists of hydrogen and nitrogen; these gases therefore are capable of becoming metallic, and as in so doing they must suffer decomposition, they cannot be simple substances, neither can the metal which is formed by their union. Hydrogen, which, from its extreme levity, has been assumed as unity in the scale of definite proportions, is probably simple, while nitrogen, which bears the higher number of 26, must be supposed a compound.

Professor Davy thinks there is probably one basis for all the metals, and one for the gases. Some time since he said that he thought he had found a path which would lead to the discovery. It is much to be wished he would pursue it. ↩

If a drop of water be thrown into a crucible containing melted lead or tin, the metal is immediately thrown out with great violence to a distance, of many feet. This is peculiar to these two metals. ↩

The Peruvians are said to have imitated in gold the productions of their soil, and to have formed artificial gardens with trees and flowers of gold, fields of maize, and granaries filled with grains of this metal. ↩

Vide the Spectator, No. 379. ↩

Vide Pope’s Rape of the Lock. ↩

Vide Serjent’s “Mine.” ↩

These lines allude to a superstition of the Arabs respecting the carbuncle, which is fully detailed in a note on Thalaba. ↩

The story of Cambuscan, the brazen steed, the virtuous sabre, ring, and glass, as begun by Chaucer, are well known; but this passage alludes more particularly to its continuation and conclusion by Mr. Wharton.

Cambuscan, released, by the assistance of the falcon, from his aerial pilgrimage, having by these enchanted gifts discovered the treachery of Acban and Erbol, and conquered the invading array commanded by Aulum, the sovereign of Ophir, becomes touched by religious scruples respecting the use of magic, and resolves not to be indebted to it for his future safety or glory. He therefore vows, as soon as the nuptials of Algarsife and Theodora, of Ca- nace and Al Kabal, (the gentle heir of Ophir’s throne,) and of Cambal with Zelica, (formerly the falcon,) have been solemnized, that he will bestride, for the last time, the brazen steed, and ascend the highest summit of Caucasus, there to leave, beyond the reach of mortal hands, the sabre, glass, and ring. Hence Albruno redeemed the glass. ↩

Lambent flames on the surface often indicate metallic veins, particu- larly of gold, even at a considerable depth. They are supposed to arise from the evolution of hydrogen, or other inflammable gases, in consequence of the decomposition of the ore. Saussure and others mention this phenomenon. ↩

This peculiar character is the property of a species of leaden ore, with a smooth and shining face. The slightest scratch on the surface spreads gradually through the mass, and, after some hours, it bursts with a violent explosion, and its fragments are dispersed in all directions. In one of our mines in Derbyshire, the ore is of this description. The miners scratch it slightly, in various directions, and then leave the mine, and await the explosion, which, perhaps, does not take place till two days after, and usually makes a great chasm. ↩

See “The Three Sisters,” a tale, translated from the German. Bertha, the third daughter of the Baron,is the wife of Ufo; who, for six months, is enchanted in the form of an immense dolphin, violent and implacable, and retaining no vestige of humanity but his speech. During this time, his only amusement is in swimming round a little island, on which is built a small habitation of the clearest crystal, where his lady resides, and boils her solitary cup of coffee. The seventh month, however, restores the enchanted Ufo to his shape; he becomes a gay and powerful prince, a kind complacent husband. The lake spreads, the isle expands, Bertha’s ceil grows a splendid palace; the trout and other fishes jump out of the water, and become courtiers, and all is splendour and hilarity till the expiration of the month again condemns them to the waves. One pleasant circumstance attending this mode of life is, that Bertha, though married one-and-twenty years, and not undergoing any transformation, has, in that time, like her husband, grown only three years older. ↩

Darwin has given a description of the salt mines at Cracow, in Poland: but our own at Northwich, near Chester, though, perhaps, not so beautiful, appear to be of greater importance, and their produce of finer quality, as it is exported even to the neighbourhood of Cracow. Mr. Holland has published a long and very interesting account of the rock-salt of Cheshire, in the first volume of the Geological Transactions. The salt is confined to the southern or central part of the Cheshire plain, and chiefly to the valley of the Weaver and its tributary streams, and is generally indicated by salt springs. At Lawton there are three beds, separated by strata of indurated clay. The first bed, at the depth of 42 yards, four feet thick; a second, 10 yards lower, 12 feet; a third, 15 yards lower, has been sunk into 24 yards, but its depth has not been ascertained. In every part of the rock are found separate crystalline concretions of muriate of soda, sometimes cubical, and sometimes in large irregular masses, usually of a greyish or milk-white colour; and possessing greater or less transparency: the salt no where appears stratified. The great body of the rock presents only a confused red mass, varied here and there by the crystalline portions. No marine exuviæ, or organic remains, or impressions, are found either in the salt, or in the argillaceous strata. In some parts where pillars, six or eight yards square, form the supports of the mine, the effect, when lighted up, is so splendid as to realize the magic palaces of Arabian fiction. Eleven or twelve mines are now worked, and from 50,000 to 60,000 tons raised annually. The greatest part is exported to Ireland, the Baltic, and Prussia; the remainder is manufactured in Cheshire.

There are many other salt mines, in Spain and Portugal, in Transylvania, and in Austria, and also in Africa. The mountains and beds of salt, between Tripoli and the Pillars of Hercules, have been noticed by Herodotus, but they are not so regularly situated as he has described. He also mentions, that the inhabitants built their houses of salt, a custom they still retain. “It never rains,” he observes, “otherwise such structures could not be durable.” A sudden shower would in that country injure the houses of the inhabitants more than the wear and tear of many years. This salt, like that of Portugal, is usually of a purple colour, but that which is washed down by the dews from the mountains becomes white when it crystallizes, and loses the bitterness which usually characterizes fossil salt.

Mr. Bruce speaks of salt as very abundant in Abyssinia; mines are worked near Azab and at Dancali. The salt, cut into solid bricks of eight or ten inches long, supplies the place of our small money. A very portable currency! perhaps rather more so than the iron money of Lycurgus. ↩

Even a slight attempt to discuss the long contested theory of the formation of basaltic pillars, would far exceed the compass of a note. Perhaps both the Neptunists and Plutonists might spare their labours and renounce their alternate triumphs. The most commonly received opinion is, that the basalt, rolled in a semifluid stream from the mouth of a volcano, and coming in contact with the sea, contracts in its sudden refrigeration into the prismatic form: but unfortunately, prismatic basalt is found in many parts of the world, and even in our own island, in situations where there appear not the slightest traces of volcanic fire, and again where it would be as difficult to account for the presence of water at its formation. But perhaps these columns, though similar in appearance, may not always be alike in origin: and fire and water, separately, or in conjunction, may equally have been concerned in their production. The basalt, rendered fluid either by the agency of water or volcanic fire, and suffered slowly either to evaporate or to cool, would, by the laws of crystallization, naturally assume a regular form, and the perfection of the columns would depend on the length of time allowed in their formation.

Saussure, in his Travels in the Alps, speaks of many sandstone rocks having a tendency to split into rhomboids. In the “Passage du Bon Homme,” he says:

“Vers le bas de la descente on trouve des châlets que je m’étonnai de voir construits en pierres de taille, d’une forme très régulière; je demandai la raison de cette recherche, peu commune dans les montagnes, et j’appris que c’étoit la nature qui avoit fait tous les frais de cette taille. Effectivement, je trouvai un peu plus bas une profonde ravine, creusée par les eaux dans des couches d’un beau grès, qui se divise de lui-même, et que Ton voit dans sa position originelle, actuellement divisé en grands parallélépipèdes rectangles.”

Is not this the effect of crystallization? and may it not throw some light on the formation of basaltic columns? for no one would think of referring the production of sandstone to volcanic fires. ↩

Volcanic eruptions are known to be connected with the flowing of water into subterranean caverns, and therefore probably owe their origin to the contention of fire and water, and the expansive force of steam. This conjecture appears to derive strength from the Geysers, or boiling fountains of Iceland, which throw up immense columns of steam to the height of 100 feet, with such force as to sustain bodies of considerable weight, and which undoubtedly arise from an immense reservoir of water continually boiling beneath that wonderful island; that strange mixture of frost and flame, where the inhabitants of the pole and of the equator might find their accustomed temperatures without losing sight of each other. The Geysers, with the ex- ception of some springs near Bath, are the only known waters which contain silcx in solution. Sir George Mackenzie, in the account of his Travels in Iceland, has given a very interesting description of these intermittent fountains of steam, and a probable theory of their origin.

Professor, now Sir H. Davy, has imagined volcanic eruptions to arise from the metals of the earth, which existing in a pure state, beyond the contact of air and oxygen, are suddenly inflamed at the influx of water. The conflagration thus kindled might afterwards be extended and supported by other substances. ↩

Animals are usually observed to anticipate thunder and other such phenomena. It is probable that they are warned by some peculiarity in the atmosphere, or by some sign that escapes the notice of man. ↩

The famous throne of Hlidskialfa is in the palace, not of Valhalla, but of Valaskialf. This throne was so situated, that any one sitting upon it might behold all the regions of the world. It properly belonged to Odin and Frigga. — Cottle’s Edda. ↩

Sir John Pringle has imagined meteors to be a sort of minor planets rolling through various systems, and kindling on their entrance into our atmosphere. During their inflammation, they throw off those bodies called meteoric stones. That these bodies actually fall from the clouds appears now scarcely to admit a doubt, both from their peculiar composition, and the number of evidences that attest the fact. Meteoric stones have been frequently found hot, immediately after the passage of a meteor. Their elements invariably consist of iron, silex, magnesia, and nickel. The three latter ingredients are sometimes in such small quantities, as to leave the iron almost pure, and constituting what is called native iron. This iron is very different from that procured from the ore, which seems to arise from the mixture of nickel: it is harder, takes a fine polish, resists tarnishing, and is always magnetic. There is a large mass of this iron in Siberia, weighing 650 pounds; in Peru there is another of the enormous weight of 15 tons, and there is one similar at the Cape.

Professor Davy has imagined, that meteors, whether planets or otherwise, may have consisted originally of the pure metals of silex and magnesia, united with iron and nickel. The two former would necessarily ignite on meeting with the oxygen of our atmosphere, and the meteors passing off to other systems, leave a part of their substance as a compensation for the weight of oxygen acquired. ↩

The inhabitants of the sea are usually depicted by poets as far exceeding in wealth and splendour the denizens of earth.

Water is a very bad conductor of heat, whence the beams of the sun must play upon its surface long before their influence penetrates to the interior; and, from its peculiar law of density, it must be equally long before the influence of cold can be severely felt at any great depth. The bottom of the sea must therefore be much more equal in its temperature than the surface of the earth. Its temperature is probably nearly as low as 42° of Fahrenheit, that at which water acquires its greatest density. The specific gravity of all other bodies, fluid or solid, increases in regular progression with the abstraction of heat, but water, which contracts in bulk down to 42°, afterwards again expands, and is, at 32°, the point of congelation, specifically lighter. A cold breeze blowing over the ocean soon cools the upper stratum of water to 42°, and renders it heavier than those below. It sinks, and another warmer and lighter usurps its place; this becoming cool, in its turn again descends, and the process continues till the whole body of water becomes cooled to 42°, and congelation commences at the surface. From this peculiar law, that no part of a body of water can freeze until the whole mass be cooled down to 42°, many tracts of ocean, that would otherwise be impassable half the year, are hardly ever frozen, and the congealed surface itself serves as a protection to the interior.

Many of the smaller tribes of marine animals are luminous in the night, and their light may be useful at depths which the sun’s rays hardly penetrate. ↩

The walrus, a large sea animal, by some called the sea-cow, by others the old man of the sea, on account of its white or hoary appearance. Its hind legs are united together like those of the seal, and one species is supposed to have been the poetical dolphin of the ancients. The walrus has two tusks, which are reckoned the finest ivory in the world, much superior to that of the elephant. — Dr. Smith’s Lectures. ↩

The shells of the chama gigas, farther mentioned in a note on the next book, would have made no contemptible shield, even for the gigantic Ajax. ↩

The horns of the xiphias, or sword-fish, are exceedingly beautiful, and so strong that they often do great injury to vessels by piercing their sides. ↩

Sir Gawaine's name is familiar to all the lovers of romance. He was the nephew of King Arthur, and the model of courtesy and eloquence to all the knights of the Round Table. He still lives in fairy-land, and perhaps his instructions in the art of politeness may have taught the fairies not to molest poor wayworn travellers so frequently of late, as when every son of song beheld their midnight revels, and every unwary wanderer was in danger of suffering from their pranks. The existence of these playful spirits is so dear to the imagination, that one can hardly bear to part with them, and during a moonlight ramble, it is difficult not to hope, and almost to fancy, their presence. ↩

The magic girdle of Fiorimel must be well remembered by all the readers of Spenser. ↩

Unlike the dangers of Charybdis, those of the Maelstrom are said to have increased very much of late years. ↩

The lotus of Egypt, sacred as the emblem of fertility, and honoured with the title of the Spouse of the Nile, is a large aquatic plant of the genus nyraphea. The. seed is made into a kind of bread and baked, and the root, which is round, and about the size of an apple, is also eaten.

The Egyptian lotus is a very different plant from the lotus of Lybia, whence the lotophagi derived their name. The latter is a shrub, (a species of rhamnus, the rhamnus lotus of Linnæus,) and is disseminated over the borders of the Great Desert, from Cyrene, round by Tripoli and Africa Proper, to the borders of the Atlantic, the Senegal, and the Niger. Its fruit is about the size of an olive, has a purple hue, and is sweet like a date. It is a principal article of food with the tribes bordering on the Desert; and the lotophagi appear to have received that name from the circumstance of living chiefly upon it. A kind of wine is also made from this fruit. ↩

The nelunbium, or sacred Indian bean, the nymphea of Linnæus, and cyamus of Dr. Smith, is a magnificent plant, and its flowers, from their size and colour, are compared by Herodotus to the rose. This plant has, like the lotus, been the theme of much controversy. Herodotus has described it as growing in the Nile, and Dioscorides has said that it abounds in Egypt, but no modern traveller has been able to find it there. In speaking of the root of this plant, which, he says, is eaten, Herodotus has probably confounded it with the colocasia, a plant that grows abundantly in the inundated places near the Nile, and produces at all seasons broad green leaves, not much unlike those of the nymphea lotus, but its flowers are little noticed, as the roots are eaten previous to the period of flowering. The nelunbium is at present common in India, and writers have conjectured that it may have been transplanted thence into Egypt, and not being indigenous in the soil, has subsequently perished. Its fruit, which Herodotus compares to a wasp’s nest, contains numerous esculent seeds, about the size of an olive stone, and somewhat like a bean. These, he says, are eaten, both raw and roasted. Dr. Smith has imagined this plant to be the real mystical bean of Pythagoras, the use of which that philosopher prohibited to his disciples; and supposes that he imbibed this notion of it in India, if ever he travelled thither, or in Egypt, whither it had been transplanted. This plant is held sacred by the Bramins, but the kernels are almost universally eaten by the Hindoos, and are said to be of a pleasanter flavour than almonds. ↩

The valisneria has perhaps little right to a place with the large and spe- cious flowers already mentioned, but the wonderful mechanism it displays will always render it dear to the botanist. Valisneria is of the class dioecia, or two houses, having the male and female flowers on separate plants. It is an aquatic plant, and grows at the bottom of rivers and ponds in Norway, in France, in parts of Italy, and in the East Indies. The female, or fertile flower, has a spiral stalk which remains coiled up at the bottom of the water, till the flower is perfected. It then uncurls, and the flower rising floats on the surface. The male flowers, on the contrary, have a very short stalk, which breaks off close to the stem previous to their expansion, and they spring up to the surface. Their petals are there unfolded, and the pollen of the anthers is wafted on the stigma of the female flower, which being fertilized, its stalk coils up, and it descends again to the bottom of the water, where the seeds are ripened. Dr. Smith is of opinion, that if the flower be not rendered fertile, its stem loses its irritability, and neglects to coil itself up again. The male flowers, though small, are so numerous as often to cover the surface of the water for a considerable distance. ↩

The flowering rush or sagittaria, so called from the dart-like shape of its leaves, is a plant very different from the common rush, and its flowers are often a great ornament to our shallow waters. ↩

The cornua Ammonis or horn of Jove, is a very beautiful shell, of the nautilus genus. The living animal is no where found, but the shell is very common in a fossil state. It has a pearly lustre on the outside, and the section exhibits a beautiful camerated structure. ↩

There is no shell that has acquired more celebrity than the paper nautilus, which is supposed to have given to man the first hint of the art of sailing. The tenant of this shell expanding a thin membrane to the influence of the wind, and at the same time moving its tentaculæ, sails with rapidity over the ocean. I have said the tenant of this shell, for the animal usually found in it, does not appear to have been its builder, and neither in form nor structure corresponds with the mansion it inhabits, or with the inhabitants of the other nautili. It is a species of cuttle fish, which probably, like the soldier crab, and some others, seizes the discarded shell of the nautilus, and converts it to its own uses. The different cameras of the shell are perfectly useless to this animal, and could never have been formed or inhabited by it: it resides only in the outer chamber. — Roget and Shaw’s Lectures. ↩

Chama gigas, the largest of testaceous productions, the pair of these shells often weighing from 120 to 140 pounds. The force of the shell in closing is sufficient to separate a cable, or lop off a limb, and the water spouts up to three or four feet distance. The chama gigas is a native of the Pacific Ocean, and is very frequent in museums. ↩

The murex was employed by the Romans in dyeing their Tyrian purple. ↩

This thought is borrowed from Spenser. It has also been used to advantage in Jamieson's “Mermaid, or Maid of Colonsay."

Florimel is imprisoned by Proteus.

 “Deepe in the bottome of an huge great rocke
 The dongeon was, in which her bound he left.
 That neither yron barres, nor brasen locke
 Did neede to gard from force or secret theft,
 Of all her lovers which would her have reft;
 For wall’d it was with waves, which rag’d and ror’d
 As they the cliffe in peeces would have cleft.
 Besides ten thousand monsters foule abhor’d
 Did waite about it, gaping, griesly, all begor’d.” ↩

In the water-spider, which forms its nest at the bottom of water, we find a very curious contrivance to supply it with air in this situation. This animal has the power of swimming. It ascends to the surface of the water, and returns laden with a large bubble of air, which it preserves unbroken amid the pressure of surrounding waves. This operation is frequently repeated, till a considerable reservoir of air is collected around the nest, in which the spider lives and rears its little family, surrounded by their own peculiar atmosphere, and literally “insulated amid the waves.” The spider has the power occasionally of dividing this reservoir into two or three cells. — Roget’s Lectures. ↩

This description is exactly copied from an account accompanied by a sketch, given by Mr. Este in his Lectures at the Royal Institution in 1809, of the sea-snake that was stranded on one of the Orkneys in 1808. Its length was fifty-five feet; but as part of the tail was wanting, the animal had probably measured at least sixty, when perfect. The head resembled that of a horse. The neck was ten feet long, but only two feet in circumference. It had six flat feet. The colour was a dusky green, and a thick yellow mane stood up on its back. ↩

The castoreum, or castor, may be called an animal gum resin. It is a peculiar secretion of the beaver. It usually comes to England in small balls of a reddish brown colour, and covered with a tough membrane; it has a bitter unpleasant taste, and a very peculiar and strongly disagreeable odour. The best castor comes from Russia, and the ordinary sort from Canada. The pilots of the north are said to provide themselves with this drug, to preserve them from the attacks of the sea-snakes, infesting the Arctic Ocean, to whom its smell is particularly offensive. ↩

The Hircynian forest, formerly celebrated as the haunt of large ferocious beasts, contains stupendous monuments of their existence. For two hundred leagues extend an immense number of caverns lined with stalactitious concretions, and their floors covered with bones. Two thirds of these belong to two species of bear which no longer exist. These animals must have lived and died in the caverns where their remains are found; and as carnivorous animals are solitary, each cavern must have contained only one, or perhaps a pair. What a long succession of generations does this render necessary, to produce the accumulation of bones which has long supplied the apothecaries of Germany with phosphate of lime, and still remains to excite the wonder of the naturalist! Cuvier, &c. ↩

The power of water and of ice, as conductors of sound, is much superior to that of air. The noise of cannon has often been transmitted by the waves to an incredible distance, and vessels sailing among the islands of ice, in high latitudes, often hear a double report, first and loudest from the ice, and afterwards, much more faintly, from the air. Davy. ↩

Even whales and other animals, coming within the influence of the Mäelstrom, appear instantly sensible of their danger, struggling and making a frightful noise but in vain. They are borne along with increasing rapidity, by the resistless force of the vortex. ↩

The power of oil, in stilling troubled waters, is well known; though without the assistance of a sea-nymph, it might not be advisable to try its efficacy in the Mäelstrom. At the turn of the tide, it is said, that the waters are for a few minutes nearly calm, and that fragments of shivered timber are then “refunded on the refluent wave.” ↩

In the Arabian Nights Entertainments, Saleh, a king of the sea, previous to plunging with his nephew, Prince Beder, into the water, places on his finger a ring, engraved with the same words as those on Solomon’s seal, by virtue of which he is endowed with the power of breathing in the water. ↩

The actiniæ or sea anemones, and sea marigolds, have received the name of zoanthæ or animal flowers. They are of an oblong form, and when closed, resemble a truncated cone. They are fixed by the base, and the upper part is surrounded with many tentacula?, in the centre of which is the mouth. Many of them are of very brilliant colours, and when their tentaculæ are expanded, they have the appearance of full blown flowers. They feed on small shell-fish and other marine animals, which coming within reach of the expanded tentaculæ, are immediately seized and drawn into the mouth, which closes over them. The shells, and other indigestible parts, are afterwards returned through the mouth. ↩

The coral islands are formed with a rapidity that is astonishing, whether we consider the great depth from which they rise, or the extreme minuteness of the animals that produce them. It is chiefly in the Pacific Ocean that this growth of coral takes place, where many large islands are continually forming, and rise up, from immense depths almost perpendicularly, to the surface of the water. The sea then gradually filling up the interstices of the coral with mud and sand, a soil is formed, and by degrees the islands become the rich and fertile abodes of man and animals.

Captain Flinders seems to have been particularly struck with the variety of form and colour presented by the corallines on the reefs of New Holland, or Australasia, “equalling in beauty, and excelling in grandeur, the most favourite parterre of the curious florist.”

Some of the animals that form the coral, seem to live in a kind of commonwealth, their bodies being connected by a network of nerves. It should appear, that the food received by one affords benefit to the whole community, so that if one of them be indisposed to eat, he may subsist on the nutriment communicated by others.

The growth of coral is much less observable in European seas, or in the Atlantic, except near the West Indies and in the Red Sea. There is coral in the Straits of Messina, and Spallanzani has given a long account of ths fishery there. — Roget’s Lectures. ↩

Many of the larger tribes of fishes feed on the smaller kinds, and are exceedingly voracious, but most fishes appear to derive their subsistence from the element which surrounds them. Perhaps the medusæ and other minute animals which inhabit the water, may contribute to their nutrition. Among birds which assemble for periodical migrations, those which fly first of the troop, eat up the country, and are strong and fat, while their unfortunate followers, unable to find sufficient provision, are weak and emaciated, and fall an easy prey to the tigers and hyenas that prowl behind. But in fish, where the shoals are infinitely more numerous, this is never the case, and the last of a shoal of herrings or of mackerel, is in as good condition as its predecessors. Did the majority of fishes require any other food than what is afforded by the water which surrounds them, where would the immense multitudes which inhabit the ocean find provision? It would be greedily devoured by the larger tribes, and they would be left to perish by famine. — Roget’s Lectures. ↩

This is not precisely true with all the bivalve shells; some of them possess a slight power of locomotion. The oyster, for instance, by rapidly opening and closing its shell, is able to effect a slow and laborious motion from place to place, the reflux of the tide impelling it slightly at every action. ↩

A great deal has been said respecting the power of fascination supposed to be exerted by serpents over small animals: Dr. Lichtenstein, in his Travels in Southern Africa, has recorded an instance of it. On the brink of a ditch, he saw a large snake in pursuit of a field-mouse. “The poor animal was just at its hole, when it seemed in an instant to stop, as if unable to proceed, and without being touched by the snake, to be palsied with terror.” The head of the snake was raised over him, the mouth open, and the eyes stedfastly fixed on him. Both remained some time in this position, but as soon as the mouse made a motion to fly, the snake followed it immediately, as if he would stop him. After some minutes, the noise made by Dr. Lichtenstein’s approach alarmed the snake, who snapped up his prey instantly, and glided away into a bush. The Doctor appears rather to ascribe this phenomenon to the poisonous breath of the snake, which he thinks might really paralyse the limbs of the mouse, than to any influence of its fixed eye, or the dread of inevitable death. ↩

Lake Erie, in North America, is said to be particularly troubled with storms of thunder and lightning. One of its bays is called Thunder Bay. ↩

The iron of Elba, like the copper of Paris Mountain in Cornwall, is on the surface. ↩

Alluding to Corsica as the birth-place of Buonaparte, and Elba as the place of his exile. ↩

The eruptions of Vulcano according to Thucydides, Strabo, Diodorus, and others, were formerly strong and frequent: it is now only remarkable for a great column of sulphureous vapour rising from the crater. Sulphureous vapours also abound in every part of the island, and the soil is hot and filled with clods of sulphur. The fumes were much greater in quantity in former times. ↩

In the description of Stromboli, and of the descents of Leonora and Alonzo, the account of Spallanzani is chiefly followed. Stromboli is perhaps the most extraordinary of volcanoes. The island is entirely composed of streams of lava, that, from their direction, have evidently flowed from a crater at the top of the mountain, which is still remaining, but the time of its extinction is unknown. The present crater is about half way up the mountain. Stromboli does not, like other volcanoes, rage only at intervals, but appears, from the earliest times, to have been in unremitted action, yet no lava has ever flowed from the present crater. Strabo and others speak of the brightness of the eruptions, and Diodorus notices their constancy. ↩

The coast of Stromboli is covered to the east and north-east with a black shining sand, which extends to some distance into the sea. It arises from the scoriaceous lava ejected by the mountain, which is very friable and soon be- comes pulverized. — Spallanzani. ↩

Spallanzani notices the attachment of the natives of Stromboli to their rugged shore, and miserable huts, formed of pieces of lava rudely piled together, even in situations where their little vineyards frequently suffered from the sulphureous vapours and explosions of the mountain. ↩

This cave is described by Spallanzani as having sheltered him from the ejections of the mountain, during his observations on the interior of the crater. ↩

This is the appearance of the interior of the crater, as described by Spallanzani; but succeeding travellers have doubted whether, from his situation in the cave, he could possibly have seen the boiling lava. They imagine, that his sight must have been deceived by the vapours in the crater. ↩

This phenomenon is mentioned by Spallanzani, as having occurred during one of his visits to Stromboli, and at first alarmed him considerably. The natives described it as being very rare, and never of long continuance. ↩

Vulcano has in all ages been remarkable for the immense volumes of sulphureous vapour arising in various parts of the island, and in particular from the crater. The soil is in many places so impregnated with them, that on turning it slightly over, large clods of sulphur are found, These were formerly a great article of traffic, but in consequence of the heat of the ground the search is now abandoned, though the sulphur continues as plentiful as formerly. Sulphur is a great agent in the decomposition of lava, which, when exposed to its vapours, becomes soft, is covered by a white crust, and gradually crumbles away. ↩

Sir James Hall made many experiments to ascertain the effect of heat on bodies secured from the access of air, and under considerable pressure. In these circumstances, he found that chalk assumed the crystallized appearance of white marble, and that several of the earths were converted into lava. ↩

However extraordinary it may appear, recent observations seem completely to establish the vegetable origin of coal. That immense forests should suddenly have been overwhelmed, and, by the action of sulphureous and bituminous vapours permeating their centre, have become completely mineralized, is less wonderful than that succeeding and again succeeding forests should have sprung and flourished on the site of their buried ancestors, and at last have shared their fate. Yet such is the scene exhibited by the numerous subjacent strata of our coalmines. ↩

These medusæ are found in great numbers in the Straits of Messina and occasionally in the seas which surround the Eolian Isles. The Abbé Spallanzani has given a very long account of them in the fourth volume of his Travels in the Two Sicilies. He says that they shine like a torch, and that their light is visfble to the distance of some hundred paces. It is also visible when they are thirty-five feet below the water. The light is variable, and appears to depend on the motion of the animal. Sometimes it continues for a quarter of an hour or longer, at others it becomes suddenly extinct, and re-appears after a considerable interval.

Many species of medusæ possess this power of phosphorescence, particularly the medusa scintillans of Mr. Macartney, and they seem to be the most frequent cause of the luminous appearance of the sea during the night, in our own as well as in other latitudes. The largest and most splendid of these animals is the medusa pellucens, discovered by Sir Joseph Banks in the passage from Madeira to Rio de Janeiro, in the first voyage of Captain Cook. It was taken from the sea at the same time with a minute species of crab (the cancer fulgens), also luminous. This medusa measures six inches across the crown, or umbella, which is marked by a number of opaque lines that pass off from the centre to the circumference. It throws out flashes of light during its contractions, which are so vivid as to affect the sight of the beholders. Ten or twelve of these flashes were generally visible at a time. When the water containing these animals, and some of the cancer fulgens, was emptied out of the bucket, it appeared like a stream of fire or melted gold. The light of the medusae always decays and vanishes on the rising of the moon. ↩

The cactus opuntia, or cactus indicus, the Indian fig, is a very curious plant. It appears perfectly indifferent as to soil, if the climate be but sufficiently warm. The stem is formed of a number of articulated divisions growing upon one another, and commonly separated by so deep a contraction, as to have the appearance rather of distinct individuals than of parts of the same plant. Hence these plants are called proliferous. In the species of opuntia described in the poem, the joints swell in the older plants, and acquire an equal thickness with the rest of the stem. The divisions are about a foot long, eight inches broad, green, pulpy, rounded at the edges, and narrow at the stem, and have so much the appearance of leaves, as to be commonly, though not properly, so called. On these, when young, are found a number of little knobs, which afterwards swell and become covered with bristles. They contain the rudiments of future divisions. At the edges of the divisions grow the flowers, which in some species are scarlet, but in this yellow, and produce a fruit nearly of their own colour, of delicious flavour, and a principal article of food with the natives of Stromboli and the other Vulcanian isles. ↩

Campo Bianco, or the White Field, is one of the principal mountains of Lipari. It is an aggregate of pumice-balls, and has all the appearance of snow; whence its name. The pumices of Campo Bianco are a principal article of commerce with the Liparese. They cut them in large oblong blocks, which are piled on the shore to await the arrival of vessels that convey them to various parts of Europe.

Monte Castagna is a mountain composed entirely of volcanic glass or obsidian, and has the appearance of a vast river suddenly congealed. These two mountains are perhaps the most wonderful trophies of the power of volcanic fire in the world. In some parts of Iceland, portions of obsidian are found, but no where is there any thing that can be compared with Castagna. The activity of the fire that formed the island of Lipari must have been very great. There are no traces of either pumice or glass in any other of the Vulcanian isles, or among the lavas of Etna and Vesuvius. Perhaps Santori, in the archipelago, is the only island that vies with Lipari in its pumices. — Spallanzani. ↩

St. Angelo is the highest mountain in Lipari, and its dark and rugged steeps, only interspersed by a few cultivated spots, form a striking contrast to its neighbour and rival Monte Guardia, whose sides are covered with vines and verdure. This difference in the two mountains arises from the difference of the lavas which compose them. Those of Monte Guardia have been de-compounded and rendered fertile by the action of the atmosphere and the labour of man, while those of St. Angelo have hitherto resisted both. — Spallanzani. ↩

The grape producing the celebrated malmsey of Lipari is large, and of a bright amber hue. It is chiefly grown in Lipari, particularly on the side of Monte Guardia, but a few vines are reared in Vulcano, and some other of the Lipari isles. The vintage is to the natives a season of festivity. They leave their dwellings on the shore and repair to cottages on the mountain, and the lights from them have an unexpected and very pleasing appearance to the voyager during the night. Malmsey and pumice are the only exports of Lipari. — Spallanzani. ↩

The seas surrounding the Eolian isles are peculiarly liable to storms, and often without any apparent cause. It is probably from this circumstance, and from the violence and fluctuation of the winds, that they derived their name, and that the ancients there fixed the dwelling of Eolus. There is a celebrated cavern in Vulcano, called the cave of the winds, whence a considerable blast still issues. ↩

What particular species of cttaceous fish Spallanzani has here mentioned by the name of dolphin, I know not, but he particularly notices the swiftness and apparent playfulness of their motions, as they sported round the felucca which conveyed him from Lipari to Stromboli. ↩

The sword-fish, xiphias ensis of Linnæus, pass in large shoals twice a year through the Straits of Messina, where there is a considerable fishery for them. From the beginning of April to the middle of June they pass to the Genoese seas, where they propagate. From July to September they return by the Sicilian side of the Straits of Messina, where the fishery is then carried on. ↩

The Fata, or Fairy, Morgana, supposed by the inhabitants to be the cause of a singular and beautiful phenomenon sometimes seen in the Faro of Messina. It occurs at the time when the sun surmounts the eastern hills behind Reggio, and rises high enough to form an angle of forty-five degrees on the water before the city, which at these times is smooth and glassy. The spectator standing with his back to the sun, on a sudden beholds in the water numberless series of pilasters, arches, castles, towers, magnificent palaces, groves of trees, plains covered with herds and flocks, armies of men, on foot and on horseback, &c. &c. in their natural colours, passing rapidly in succession along the surface of the sea.

Sometimes, if the air be slightly hazy, these objects are surrounded with prismatic fringes; and sometimes, when the atmosphere is highly impregnated with vapour, the objects observed on the water are repeated, though more faintly, at a considerable height in the air.

These images appear to be merely the multiplied reflexions of objects on shore. They probably, like the rainbow, owe their origin to the adverse sun, aided by very peculiar circumstances in the atmosphere; and like it, are precisely the same to no two spectators. A curious appearance is sometimes observable on Alpine heights. A company of adventurers ascending the brow of a mountain, with their backs to the rising sun, each person perceives, on a frozen cloud before him, his own shadow, but not that of any of his companions; its head crowned with a glory, and surrounded by various concentric rainbows. During the dense fogs which obumbrated London in January, 1814, many persons walking in the streets, and unable to distinguish their neighbours, were thus surprised by the company of their own shadows which started up at their sides as they past the lamps. All these phenomena appear to have a similar origin, but they are not sufficiently frequent for much investigation. ↩

St. Catharine is a favourite saint with the Italians, and her marriage has afforded a subject to many of their best painters. ↩

When the scirocco, or south-east wind prevails, Stromboli is covered by a great cloud of lurid smoke, impervious to the sun, except at the very edges, which are white. This cloud, composed of hot sulphureous vapours, often extends half way down the mountain, and a mile above it, and renders the ascent impracticable. During the north, or north-west wind, this cloud vanishes almost entirely, and the mountain may be ascended with safety. — Spallanzani. ↩

The subject of meteors and meteoric stones, and the numerous theories respecting them have been considered in a note on the Third Book, page 120. ↩

The rapidity with which light is transmitted is surpassed by nothing but electricity, which in its passage along a very extended chain, always appears to be in every part at the same instant. Whether light be a substance or an action, has been often debated, yet never decided; but its extreme swiftness cannot be better illustrated than by the simple fact, that the time in which it passes from the sun to the earth, a distance of nearly one hundred millions of miles, does not exceed eight minutes and a half. ↩

Light and heat though usually, are not inseparably, connected, which is proved by the analysis of the ray by the prism. At the violet end of the spectrum, scarcely any heat is perceptible; but it increases gradually towards the red rays, and is strongest in certain invisible rays which extend beyond them. In a similar way, the chemical effects produced by the beams of the sun appear not to depend either on light or heat, but on a peculiar set of rays, different though connected with them. Horn, silver, or any other body, whose colour is changed or blackened by exposure to the sun, is scarcely affected by the red rays, but changes more rapidly when it approaches the violet end of the spectrum, and in certain invisible rays beyond them the effect is much the strongest.

The nature of heat, whether it be a substance or an action, a peculiar subtle fluid that insinuates itself between the particles of bodies, and incites them to repel each other, or merely a series of pulsations or undulations, received arid transmitted by them, appears to be as little ascertained as the nature of light, and the French and English chemists have, as usual, embraced opposite sides of the question. — Davy and Brande. ↩

The nature of sound cannot be better illustrated than by throwing a pebble into the water, and observing the concentric circles that immediately begin to spread, and becoming wider and fainter, cease at a considerable distance. Sound consists of a number of vibrations transmitted by the particles of air in concentric circles around the body which impels them. Denser bodies convey sound better and more rapidly than air, for instance, water, ice, the metals, &c. ↩

The spirits presiding over electricity are here intended. The phenomena of the Auroras Borealis and Australis are generally believed to be owing to the passage of electricity through the rare atmosphere of the poles. ↩

It has been supposed that oxygen is the chief agent in producing the vivid hues of flowers, particularly the red tints. Its presence is necessary to combustion and to respiration, which appear to be of the same nature, carbonic acid being the result of both. It was formerly believed that oxygen entered into combination with the blood during respiration, and that it was absorbed; but experiment has proved this opinion to be incorrect, and that the whole of the oxygen, consumed in respiration, is employed in the formation of the carbonic acid evolved. It has been stated in a former note, that oxygen, on entering into combination with a body, destroys its conducting power; it is, therefore, said in the poem to obstruct the progress of electricity. Davy, Brande,and Roget’s Lectures. ↩

This alludes to the formation of water by the combination of oxygen and hydrogen, or inflammable air. It is a curious circumstance, that water, the greatest enemy to combustion, should be formed by the union of the greatest, and till lately believed, the sole supporter of combustion, with a gas itself inflammable. ↩

The snow which fell last January, 1814, contained many beautiful little flat feathery stars, having usually six points. The largest were about a quarter of an inch in diameter, but the size varied. Dr. Clarke in the first volume of his travels states that, while he was at St. Petersburgh, the thermometer of Celsius, being at 5° below the freezing point, with little or no wind, snow fell for three hours in the most beautiful and regular crystals, each being about the size of a split pea, and consisting of a star with six points. During this time no other snow fell.

A similar phenomenon occurred at Cambridge on the 16th January, 1810, under precisely similar circumstances, and is recorded in the Cambridge Chronicle. The stars were, if possible, more perfect than at Petersburgh.

Dr. Clarke has given a theory to account for this appearance, but he seems not to have been aware that the crystallization of snow was not a new phenomenon, but had been observed by Descartes and Kepler. The first probable theory of it was given by M. de Mairan, and is neatly illustrated by Dr. Hutton in his Mathematical Recreations. The small needles of ice, which are formed in the progress of congelation, are implanted one into the other in regular and determinate angles which are always 60°. Hence one particle of ice meeting another, unites with it in an angle of 60°; four more are gradually added, and the simple star of six points is formed. If new needles of ice be added, they must place themselves on the first radii, either by making an obtuse or an acute angle towards the centre. In the first case, the result will be a star, the radii of which have a kind of barbs like a feather, or a star having six salient and six re-entering angles. There are also some figures still more complex, but these are rare. ↩

The Baltic is liable to various agitations, but has no regular tides. ↩

The silver mines of Salseberist, and the descent to them, have often been described, and the accounts given of them have been here followed as correctly as possible. The greater part has been drawn from M. Bomare, as quoted by Madam Genlis. ↩

About half way down a tremendous noise is heard of torrents roaring on every side, but they are not visible. ↩

A spacious hall surrounded by galleries is supported by columns of mine silver, which reflect in every direction the lamps that illume this subterranean region. A river passes along the centre of the hall; and the contrast of this scene of light, with the preceding descent, is very striking. — M. de Bomare. ↩

These lines allude to silver, as being the usual standard of value among civilized nations, and determining the price even of gold. ↩

In the mine of Salseberist there is a windmill turned by a subterranean current of air, and employed to raise the water, which might otherwise incommode the miners. ↩

An attempt is here made to give an idea of the phenomenon called by the miners Fire Damp. This is an explosion of hydrogen gas, which not unfrequently takes place in mines where ventilation is not properly attended to, and sometimes produces very fatal consequences. The hydrogen exhaling from some neglected part of the mine, takes fire at the lamps of the workmen, and produces a violent explosion, the effects of which are however less dreadful than those of the air rushing in to supply its place. If the miners have sufficient time, they endeavour to prevent the explosion by extinguishing their lights, or fall on their faces to avoid the return of the blast. Sometimes they observe a white film floating over their heads, which they instantly seize, and crush in their hands, to prevent its explosion. In mines which are much troubled with hydrogen gas, the men are not allowed lamps, but work by the light of a flint-mill, or of sparks struck from a wheel surrounded with blades of iron, like that of a razor-grinder, and turned rapidly round. ↩

Rivers, where the soil is much impregnated with silver, have generally a milky hue. ↩

Intermittent springs are not very frequent, but there are three or four in England; the principal of which are those of Lay well, near Torbay, and of Buxton, in Derbyshire. In the former the water rises and falls twenty times in succession, and afterwards flows uniformly for two hours. In that of Buxton it intermits every quarter of an hour. But the most celebrated of intermittent springs are in the lake of Tschirnitz, in Carniola. This lake is about fourteen miles in length, and five in breadth. It is full of water during the greater part of the year, but about the beginning of July the water runs off by eighteen subterranean conduits; the fish either escape with it, or are destroyed, and cattle soon come to feed on the grass which rises quickly with great luxuriance in the bed of the lake. Three or four months after the water returns suddenly through the holes by which it was absorbed, with such violence that it spouts up to the height of several feet, and the lake is filled in less than twenty-four hours. For a farther account of intermittent fountains, and of the peculiar form of pipe which is necessary to produce them, see the fourth volume of Dr. Hutton’s Mathematical Recreations. ↩

America was not discovered in the time of Edward the Third; it would however be known to the Gnomes. ↩

Anahuac, the great tract extending from Mexico northwards, and nearly the same with New Spain, is rich in ores of every kind, and in precious stones. ↩

Crescitque seges clypeata virorum. — Ovid. Metam. Lib. III. ↩

The Oriental nations believe that the centre, or axis of the earth, is an immense stone, which they call Saxhrat. All the mountains of the earth (among them the celebrated Caucasus) are ramifications of this stone, and it has others within the surface. When God is displeased with any city or nation, he commands this stone to give motion to one of its fibres, and an earthquake instantly takes place. ↩

All the gems are perfect non-conductors, and hence impervious to the electrical sword of Henry. ↩

The agapanthus umbellatus, is a Cape plant, and remarkable for the graceful form of its leaves and flowers. The leaves fall in a curve on each side of the stem, which, rising to the height of two feet, bears on its summit a cluster of blue flowers, that before they expand have a great similarity to the Grecian honey-suckle. ↩

Previous to the discovery of the four new planets, Ceres, Pallas, Juno, and Vesta, Mr. Maclaurin and others, from the general analogy of our system, entertained the idea of the existence of a planet between Mars and Jupiter, and the attention of astronomers was directed to that part of the heavens. In January, 1801, Mr. Piazzi discovered a planet in the expected situation, but not larger than our moon. This planet he named Ceres: but it was so small, that after it was lost in the beams of the sun, there was great difficulty in finding it again; and it was not till 1807 that it was recognized by Dr. Ollbers, of Bremen. In the meantime, Dr. Ollbers and Mr. Harding, in their search for this planet, discovered two others, (Juno and Pallas,) which, upon calculation, appeared to have orbits precisely the same as that of Ceres, in their distance from the sun, and only differing in obliquity. From this singular circumstauce, Dr. Ollbers conceived the idea that these three planets might have been originally combined in one larger orb, which had been divided by some violent commotion. Were this the case, the fragments, from the regulated attraction of the sun and the other planets, would continue to revolve at the same distance from the sun, but the obliquity of their orbits would be determined by the direction in which they were thrown off. These orbits would however possess two common points of intersection, or nodes, namely, the point in which the parent planet was, at the time when it was rent by the convulsion, and the point opposite to it. The orbits of the three new planets being calculated, appeared to have these points of intersection; and Dr. Ollbers, confirmed in his theory, and thinking there might be more planets, continued his observations, which, in September, 1808, were rewarded by the discovery of the planet Vesta. The orbit of Vesta intersects that of Pallas, but not in the place where it is cut by that of Ceres. — Pond’s Lectures.

In the poem the new planets are made use of, but not on the system of Dr. Ollbers. I have supposed them not to be the fragments of one unhappy planet, but coeval in their birth, to have revolved from the beginning in the same sphere. We may presume that any convulsion sufficient to rend a planet would have produced a sensible effect on all parts of the solar system. The reciprocal attractions of the planets must have been altered, they must have been accelerated or retarded in their course, and such an extraordinary event, had it happened since the creation of man, could hardly have been unrecorded, if not in the writings of the learned, at least in the traditions of the vulgar. ↩