shortly after ensues; our thunder generally rolls on one quarter of the sky, and one stroke pursues another. But here it is otherwise; the whole sky seems illuminated with unremitted flashes of lightning; every part of the air seems productive of its own thunders; and every cloud produces its own shock. The strokes come so thick that the inhabitants can scarce mark the intervals, but all is one unremitted roar of elementary confusion. It would seem, however, that the lightning of those countries is not so fatal nor so dangerous as with us; since in this case the torrid zone would be uninhabitable. When these terrors have ceased-with which, however, the natives are familiar-meteors of another kind begin to make their appearance. The intense beams of the sun, darting upon stagnant waters that generally cover the surface of the country, raise vapours of various kinds. Floating bodies of fire, which assume different names (rather from their accidental forms than from any real difference between them), are seen without surprise. The "draco volans," or flying dragon, as it is called; the "ignis-fatuus," or wandering fire; the "fires of St. Helmo," or the mariner's light," are everywhere frequent; and of these we have numberless descriptions. "As I was riding in Jamaica," says Mr. Barbham, "one morning from my habitation, situated about three miles north-west from Jago de la Vega, I saw a ball of fire, appearing to me about the size of a bomb, swiftly falling down with a great blaze. At first I thought it fell into the town; but when I came nearer I saw my people gathered together, a little to the southward, in the Savannah, to whom I rode up to inquire the cause of their meeting. They were admiring, as I found, the ground's being strangely broken up and ploughed by a ball of fire, which, as they said, fell down there. I observed there were many holes in the ground-one in the middle of the bigness of a man's head, and five or six smaller ones round about of the size of one's fist, and so deep as not to be fathomed by such implements as were at hand. It was observed, also, that all the green herbage was burnt up near the holes; and there continued a strong smell of sulphur near the place for some time after." Ulloa gives an account of one of a similar kind at Quito. About nine at night," he says, a globe of fire appeared to rise from the side of the mountain Pichinca, and so large, that it spread a light over all the part of the city facing that mountain. The house in which I lodged looking that way, I was surprised with an extraordinary light darting through the crevices of the windowshutters. On this appearance, and the bustle of the people in the street, I hastened to the window, and came time enough to see it in the middle of its career, which continued from west to south till I lost sight of it, being intercepted by a mountain which lay between. It was round, and its apparent diameter about a foot. I observed it to rise from the sides of Pichinca; although, to judge from its course, it was behind that mountain where this congeries of inflammable matter was kindled. In the first half of its visible course it emitted a prodigious effulgence, then it began gradually to grow dim; so that, upon its disappearing behind the intervening mountain, its light was very faint."

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Meteors of this kind are very frequently seen between the tropics; but they sometimes also visit the more temperate regions of Europe. We have the description of à very extraordinary one given us by Montanari, that serves to show to what great heights in our atmosphere these vapours are found to ascend. In the year 1676, a great globe of fire was seen at Bononia, in Italy, about three quarters of an hour after sun-set. It passed westward with a most rapid course, at the rate of not less than a hundred and sixty miles in a minute, which is much swifter than the force of a cannon-ball, and at last stood over the Adriatic Sea. In its course it crossed over all Italy; and by computation it could not have been less than thirty-eight miles above the surface of

the earth. In the whole line of its course, wherever it approached, the inhabitants below could distinctly hear it, with a hissing noise resembling that of a firework. Having passed away to sea towards Corsica, it was heard at last to go off with a violent explosion, much louder than that of a cannon; and immediately after another noise was heard, like the rattling of a heavy cart upon a stony pavement-which was probably nothing more than the echo of the former sound. Its magnitude when at Bononia appeared to be twice as long as the moon one way, and as broad the other; so that, considering its height, it could not have been less than a mile long and half a mile broad. From the height at which this was seen, and there being no volcano in that quarter of the world from whence it came, it is more than probable that this terrible globe was kindled on some part of the contrary side of the globe, in those regions of vapours which we have been just describing; and thus, rising above the air, and passing in a course opposite to that of the earth's motion, in this manner it acquired its amazing rapidity.

To these meteors, common enough southward, we will add one more of a very uncommon kind, which was seen by Ulloa at Quito, in Peru-the beauty of which will in some measure serve to relieve us, after the description of those hideous ones preceding. "At day-break," he observes, "the whole mountain of Pambamarca, where we then resided, was encompassed with very thick clouds, which the rising of the sun dispersed so far as to leave only some vapours too fine to be seen. On the side opposite to the rising sun, and about ten fathoms distant from the place where we were standing, we saw, as in a looking-glass, each his own image-the head being, as it were, the centre of three circular rainbows, one without the other, and just near enough to each other as that the colours of the internal verged upon those more external; while round all was a circle of white, but with a greater space between. In this manner these circles were erected like a mirror before us; and as we moved, they moved in disposition and order. But what is most remarkable, though we were six in number, every one saw the phenomenon with regard to himself, and not that relating to others. The diameter of the arches gradually altered as the sun rose above the horizon; and the whole, after continuing a long time, insensibly faded away. In the beginning, the diameter of the inward iris, taken from its last colour, was about five degrees and a half; and that of the white arch, which surrounded the rest, was not lest than sixty-seven degrees. At the beginning of the phenomenon the arches seemed of an oval or eliptical figure, like the disk of the sun; and afterwards became perfectly circular. Each of these was of a red colour, bordered with orange; and the last bordered by a bright yellow, which altered into a straw-colour, and this turned to a green; but in all, the external colour remained red." Such is the description of one of the most beautiful illusions that has ever been seen in Nature. This alone seems to have combined all the splendours of optics in one view. To understand the manner, therefore, how this phenomenon was produced would require a perfect knowledge of optics; which it is not our present province to enter upon. It will be sufficient, therefore, only to observe, that all these appearances arise from the density of the cloud, together with its uncommon and peculiar situation with respect to the spectator and the sun. It may be observed, that but one of these three rainbows was real, the rest being only reflections thereof. It may also be observed that whenever the spectator stands between the sun and a cloud of falling rain, a rainbow is seen, which is nothing more than a reflection of the different coloured rays of light from the bosom of the cloud. If, for instance, we take a glass globe filled with water, and hand it up before us opposite the sun, in many situations it will appear transparent; but if it is raised higher, or

sideways, to an angle of forty-five degrees, it will at first appear red; a very little higher, yellow; then green, then blue, then violet colour; in short, it will assume successively all the colours of the rainbow; but, if raised higher, still it will become transparent again. A falling shower may be considered as an infinite number of these little transparent globes, assuming different colours by being placed at the proper heights. The rest of the shower will appear transparent, and no part of it will seem coloured-but such as are angles of forty-five degrees from the eye, forty-five degrees upward, forty five degrees on each side, forty-five degrees downward, did not the plane of the earth prevent us. We therefore see only an arch of the rainbow, the lower part being cut off from our sight by the earth's interposition. How ever, upon the tops of very high mountains circular rainbows are seen, because we can see to an angle of forty-five degrees downward, as well as upward or sideways, and therefore we take in the rainbow's complete circle.

In those forlorn regions round the poles, the meteors, though of another kind, are not less numerous and alarming. When the winter begins, and the cold prepares to set in, the same misty appearance which is produced in the southern climates by the heat is there produced by the contrary extreme. The sea smokes like an oven, and a fog arises, which mariners call the "frostsmoke." This cutting mist commonly raises blisters on several parts of the body; and as soon as it is wafted to some colder part of the atmosphere it freezes into little icy particles, which are driven by the wind, and create such an intense cold on land that the limbs of the inhabitants are sometimes frozen, and drop off.

There, also, haloes, or luminous circles round the moon, are oftener seen than in any other part of the earth, being formed by the frost-smoke--although the air in other respects seems to be clear. A lunar rainbow, also, is often seen there, though rather different from that common to us, as it appears of a pale white striped with grey. In these countries, also, the aurora-borealis streams with peculiar lustre and variety of colours. In Greenland it generally arises in the east, and darts its sportive fires in variegated beauty over the whole horizon. Its appearance is almost constant in winter; and at those seasons when the sun departs, to return no more for half a year, this meteor kindly rises to supply its beams, and affords sufficient light for all the purposes of existence. However, in the very midst of their tedious night the inhabitants are not entirely forsaken. The tops of the mountains are often seen painted with the red rays of the sun; and the poor Greenlander from thence begins to date his chronology. It would appear whimsical to read a Greenland calendar, in which we might be told-That one of their chiefs, having lived forty days, died at last of a good old age; and that his widow continued for half a day to deplore his loss with great fidelity, and then-admitted a second husband.

The meteors of the day in these countries are not less extraordinary than those of the night. Mock suns are often reflected upon an opposite cloud; and the ignorant spectator fancies that there are often three or four real suns in the firmament at the same time. In this splendid appearance the real sun is always readily known by its superior brightness, every reflection being seen with diminished splendour. The solar rainbow there is often seen different from ours: instead of a pleasing variety of colours, it appears of a pale white, edged with a stripe of dusky yellow-the whole being reflected from the bosom of a frozen cloud.

But of all the metors which mock the imagination with an appearance of reality, those strange illusions that are seen there in fine serene weather are the most extraordinary and entertaining. "Nothing," says Krantz, ever surprised me more than, on a fine warm summer's day, to perceive the islands that lie four leagues west

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of our shore putting on a form quite different from what they are known to have. As I stood gazing upon them, they appeared at first infinitely greater than what they naturally are, and seemed as if I viewed them through a large magnifying-glass. They were thus not only made larger, but brought nearer to me. I plainly descried every stone upon the land, and all the furrows filled with ice, as if I stood close by. When this illusion had lasted for a while the prospect seemed to break up, and a new scene of wonder to present itself. The islands seemed to travel to the shore, and represented a wood, or a tall cut hedge. The scene then shifted, and showed the appearance of all sorts of curious figures, as ships with sails, streamers, and flags; antique elevated castles, with decayed turrets; and a thousand forms for which fancy found a resemblance in Nature. When the eye had been satisfied with gazing, the whole groupe of riches seemed to rise in air, and at length vanish into nothing At such times the weather is quite serene and clear; but, compressed with such subtle vapours as it is in very hot weather, and these appearing between the object, give it all that variety of appearances which glasses of different refrangibilities would have done." Mr. Krantz observes, that commonly a couple of hours afterwards a gentle west wind and a visible mist follows, which puts an end to this "lusus naturæ."

It were easy to swell this catalogue of meteors with the names of many others, both in our own climate and in other parts of the world—such as falling stars, which are thought to be no more than unctuous vapours raised from the earth to small heights, and continuing to shine till that matter which first raised and supported them being burnt out, they fall back again to the earth with extinguished flame; burning spears, which are a peculiar kind of aurora-borealis; bloody rains, which are said to be the excrements of an insect that at that time has been raised into the air; showers of stones, fishes, and ivy-berries-at first, no doubt, raised into the air by tempests in one country, and falling at some considerable distance, in the manner of rain, to astonish another. But omitting these-of which we know little more than what is thus briefly mentioned-I will conclude this chapter with the description of a water-spout-a most surprising phenomenon, not less dreadful to mariners than astonishing to the observer of Nature.

These spouts are seen very commonly in the tropical seas, and sometimes in our own. Those seen by Tourne fort in the Mediterranean he has described as follows:The first of these," says this great botanist,“ that we saw was about a musket-shot from our ship. There we perceived the water began to boil, and to rise about a foot above its level. The water was agitated and whit ish; and above its surface there seemed to stand a smoke, such as might be imagined to come from wet straw before it begins to blaze. It made a sort of murmuring sound, like that of a torrent heard at a distance, mixed with a hissing noise like that of a serpent; shortly after we perceived a column of this smoke rise up to the clouds, at the same time whirling about with great rapidity. It appeared to be as thick as one's finger, and the former sound still continued. When this disappeared, after lasting for about eight minutes, upon turning to the opposite quarter of the sky we perceived another, which began in the manner of the former; presently after a third appeared in the west; and instantly beside it still another arose. The most distant of these three could not be above a musket-shot from the ship. They all appeared like so many heaps of wet straw set on fire, that continued to smoke, and to make the same noise as before. We soon after perceived each, with its respective canal. mounting up in the clouds, and spreading where it touched-the cloud, like the mouth of a trumpet, making a figure, to express it intelligibly, as if the tail of an animal were pulled at one end by a weight. These canals were of a whitish colour. and so tinged, as I sup

pose, by the water which was contained in them; for previous to this they were apparently empty, and of the colour of transparent glass. These canals were not straight, but bent in some parts, and far from being perpendicular, but rising in their clouds with a very inelined ascent. But what is the most particular, the cloud to which one of them was pointed happening to be driven by the wind, the spout still continued to follow its motion without being broken; and, passing behind one of the others, the saouts crossed each other in the form of St. Andrew's cross. In the beginning they were all about as thick as one's finger, except at the top, where they were broader; and two of them disappeared; but shortly after the last of the three increased considerably, and its canal, which was at first so small, soon became as thick as a man's arm, then as his leg, and at last thicker than his whole body. We saw distinctly through this transparent body the water, which rose up with a kind of spiral motion; and it sometimes diminished a little of its thickness, and again resumed the same; sometimes widening at top, and sometimes at bottom; exactly resembling a gut filled with water, pressed with the fingers to make the fluid rise or fall; and I am well convinced that this alteration in the spout was caused by the wind, which pressed the cloud and impelled it to give up its contents. After some time its bulk was so diminished as to be no thicker than a man's arm again; and thus, swelling and diminishing, it at last became very small. In the end, I observed the sea which was raised about it to resume its level by degrees, and the end of the canal that touched it to become as small as if it had been tied round with a cord; and this continued till the light, striking through the cloud, took away the view. I still, however, continued to look, expecting that its parts would join again, as I had before seen in one of the others, in which the spout was more than once broken, and yet again came together; but I was disappointed, for the spout appeared no more."

Many have been the solutions offered for this surprising appearance. Mr. Buffon supposes the spout here described to proceed from the operation of fire beneath the bed of the sea, as the waters at the surface are thus seen agitated. However, the solution of Dr. Stuart is not divested of probability, who thinks it may be accounted for by suction, as in the application of a cuping-glass to the skin.

Wherever spouts of this kind are seen they are extremely dreaded by mariners; for if they happen to fall upon a ship they most commonly dash it to the bottom. But if the ship be large enough to sustain the deluge, they are at least sure to destroy its sails and rigging, and render it unfit for sailing. It is said that vessels of any force usually fire their guns at them, loaded with a bar of iron; and, if so happy as to hit them, the water is instantly seen to fall from them with a dreadful noise, though without any further mischief.

I am at a loss whether we ought to reckon these spouts, called "typhons" (which are sometimes seen on land), of the same kind with those so often described by mariners at sea, as they seem to differ in several respects. That, for instance, observed at Hatfield, in Yorkshire, in 1687, as it is described by the person who saw it, seems rather to have been a whirlwind than a water-spout. The season in which it appeared was very dry, the weather extremely hot, and the air very cloudy. After the wind had blown for some time with considerable force, and condensed the black clouds one upon another, a great whirling of the air ensued; upon which the centre of the clouds every now and then darted down in the shape of a thick, long, black pipe, in which the relator could distinctly see a motion, like that of a screw, continually screwing up to itself, as it were, whatever it happened to touch." In its progress it moved slowly over a grove of young trees, which it violently bent in a circular motion. Going forward to a barn, it in less

than a minute stript it of all the thatch, and filled the whole air with the same. As it came nearer the relator, he perceived that its blackness proceeded from a gyration of the clouds, by contrary winds meeting in a point or centre; and where the greatest force was exerted, there darting down, like an Archimedes' screw, to suck up all that came in its way. Another which he saw some time after was attended with still more terrible effects-levelling or tearing up great oak trees, catching up the birds in its vortex, and dashing them against the ground. In this manner it proceeded, with an audible whirling noise like that of a mill; and at length dissolved, after having done much mischief.

But we must still continue to suspend our assent as to the nature of even these land-spouts, since they have been sometimes found to drop in a great column of water at once upon the earth, and produce an instantaneous inundation, which could not readily have happened had they been caused by the gyration of a whirlwind only. Indeed, every conjectures regarding these meteors seems to me entirely unsatisfactory. They sometimes appear in the calmest weather at sea, of which I have been an eye-witness; and therefore these are not caused by a whirlwind. They are always capped by a cloud; and therefore are not likely to proceed from fires at the bottom. They change place; and therefore suction seems impracticable. In short, we still want facts upon which to build a rational theory; and instead of knowledge we must be contented with admiration. To be well acquainted with the appearances of Nature, even though we are ignorant of their causes, often constitutes the most useful wisdom.

CHAP. XXII.

THE CONCLUSION.

Having thus gone through a particular description of the earth, let us now pause for a moment to contemplate the great picture before us. The universe may be considered as the palace in which the Deity resides; and this earth is one of its aparments. In this, all the meaner races of Animated Nature mechanically obey Him; and stand ready to execute His commands without hesitation. Man alone is found refractory; he is the only being endued with a power of contradicting these mandates. The Deity was pleased to exert superior power in creating him a superior being-a being endued. with a choice of good and evil, and capable, in some measure, of co-operating with his own intentions. Man, therefore, may be considered as a limited creature endued with powers imitative of those residing in the Deity. He is thrown into a world that stands in need of his help, and has been granted a power of producing harmony from partial confusion.

If, therefore, we consider the earth as allotted for our habitation, we shall find that much has been given us to enjoy and much to amend; that we have ample reasons for our gratitude, and still more for our industry. In those great outlines of Nature to which Art cannot reach, and where our greatest efforts must have been ineffectual, God himself has finished these with amazing grandeur and beauty. Our beneficent Father has considered these parts of Nature as peculiarly His own-as parts which no creature could have skill or strength to amend; and therefore made them incapable of alteration or of more perfect regularity. The heavens and the firmament show the wisdom and the glory of the Workman. Astronomers, who are best skilled in the symmetry of systems, can find nothing there that they can alter for the better. God made these perfect, because no subordinate being could correct their defects.

When, therefore, we survey Nature on this side,

the polypus is known to do; so that the vegetable production seems to have the superiority. But, notwith

OF CREATION.

HAVING given an account of the earth in general, and the advantages and inconveniences with which it abounds, we now come to consider it more minutely. Having described the habitation, we are naturally led to inquire after the inhabitants. Amidst the infinitely different productions which the earth offers, and with which it is everywhere covered, animals hold the first rank-as well because of the finer formation of their parts as of their superior power. The vegetable-which is fixed to one spot, and obliged to wait for its accidental supplies of nourishment-may be considered as the prisoner of Nature. Unable to correct the disadvantages of its situation, or to shield itself from the dangers that surround it, every object that has motion may be its destroyer.

But animals are endowed with powers of motion and defence. The greatest part are capable, by changing place, of commanding Nature, and of thus obliging her to furnish that nourishment which is most agreeable to their state. Those few that are fixed on one spot, even in this seemingly helpless situation, are nevertheless protected from external injury by a hard shelly covering, which they often can close at pleasure, and thus defend themselves from every assault. And here, I think, we may draw the line between the animal and vegetable kingdoms. Every animal, by some means or other, finds protection from injury-either from its force or courage, its swiftness or cunning. Some are protected by hiding in convenient places, and others by taking refuge in a hard shell. But vegetables are totally unprotected; they are exposed to every assailant, and are patiently submissive in every attack. In a word, an animal is an organized being that is in some measure provided for its own security; a vegetable is destitute of every protection.

But though it is very easy without the help of definitions to distinguish a plant from an animal, yet both possess many properties so much alike, that the two kingdoms, as they are called, seem mixed with each other.

Hence, it frequently puzzles the naturalist to tell exactly where animal life begins and vegetative terminates; nor indeed is it easy to resolve whether some objects offered to view be of the lowest of the animal or the highest of the vegetable race. The sensitive plant, which moves at the touch, seems to have as much perception as the fresh-water polypus, which is possessed of a still lower share of motion. Besides, the sensitive plant will not reproduce upon cutting in pieces, which

other animals do. It changes its situation; and therefore possesses a power of choosing its food or retreating from danger. Still, therefore, the animal kingdom is far above the vegetable; and its lowest denizen is possessed of very great privileges when compared with the plants with which it is often surrounded.

However, both classes have many resemblances, by which they are raised above the unorganized and inert masses of Nature. Minerals are mere inactive, insensible bodies, entirely motionless of themselves, and waiting some external force to alter their forms or their properties. But it is otherwise with animals and vegetables; these are endued with life and vigour; they have their state of improvement and decay; they are capable of reproducing their kinds; they grow from seeds in some, and from cuttings in others; they seem all possessed of sensation, in a greater or less degree; they both have their enmities and affections; and as some animals are, by nature, impelled to violence, so some plants are found to exterminate all others, and make a wilderness of the places around them. As the lion makes a desert of the forest where it resides, thus no other plant will grow under the shade of the machinel-tree. Thus, also, that plant, in the West-Indies called "caraguata," clings round whatever tree it happens to approach: there it quickly gains the ascendant; and, loading the tree with a verdure not its own, keeps away that nourishment designed to feed the trunk, and at last entirely destroys its supporter. As all animals are ultimately supported upon vegetables, so vegetables are greatly propagated by being made a part of animal food. Birds distribute the seeds wherever they fly, and quadrupeds prune them into greater luxuriance. By these means the quantity of food in a state of nature is kept equal to the number of the consumers; and-lest some of the weaker ranks of animals should find nothing for their support, but all the provisions be devoured by the strong-different vegetables are appropriated to different appetites. If, transgressing this rule, the stronger ranks should invade the rights of the weak, and, breaking through all regard to appetite, should make an indiscriminate use of every vegetable, Nature then punishes the transgression, and poison marks the crime as capital. If again we compare vegetables and animals with respect to the places where they are found, we shall find them bearing a still stronger similitude. The vegetables that grow in a dry and sunny soil are strong and vigorous, though not luxuriant; so also are the animals of such a climate. Those, on the contrary, that are the joint product of heat and moisture are luxuriant and