THE BOILING SPRINGS OF ICELAND

of steam rolling over each other as they ascend, and through which, columns of water, shivering into foam, are seen spreading in all directions. Much of the water is lost in vapour; but the greatest part falls to the ground in heavy showers of spray. As the jets rise out of the basin, the water reflects the most beautiful colours; sometimes the purest and most brilliant blue; at others, a bright sea-green: but in the further ascent, all distinction of colour is lost; and the jets, broken into a thousand parts, appear as white as snow. Some of them are forced upwards perpendicularly; but many are thrown out in beautiful curves. eruption thus continues, changing its form at every instant, till the force which drives it from beneath is exhausted. The water then subsides through the pipe, and disappears, but immediately rises again, and fills the basin to the extent already mentioned; and in this state it remains till the next eruption.

The

Such are the general features of these eruptions, as described by all writers. Some spectators appear to have seen them in different states of activity and magnitude from others; and all of them strain their powers of language to give an idea of the grandeur and beauty of the scene, and the impressions of religious awe which it produces.-"While the jets," it is eloquently said by Dr. Henderson, "were rushing up towards heaven with the velocity of an arrow, my mind was forcibly borne along with them to the contemplation of the great and omnipotent JEHOVAH, in comparison with whom, these, and all the wonders scattered over the immensity of existence, dwindle into absolute insignificance; whose Almighty command spake the universe into being; and at whose sovereign fiat the whole fabric might be reduced in an instant to its original nothing."

Mr. Lyell adopts the general, and highly probable supposition of a hollow cave at a great depth beneath the earth where water and steam collect, and where the free escape of the steam is prevented till it acquires sufficient force to discharge the water.Suppose water from the surface of the earth to penetrate into this cavity beneath, represented at the letters A D, by the cracks or rents, FF; while, at the same time, steam, at an extremely high tem

At a short distance from the Great Geyser, is situated the New Geyser, also called, from its continual noise, the Roaring Geyser. By the natives it is called Strockn, a word which literally means 'a churn.'perature, rises upwards through the cracks CC; The outward appearance of this spring is different from that of the Great Geyser. The pipe, which is about forty-four feet in depth, and nine in diameter, is not entirely circular, nor is it so perpendicular as the other. Instead of opening into a basin, it is defended on one side by a low incrusted wall, while, on the other, it is level with the surface of the ground. The eruptions of this spring differ little from those of the Great Geyser, except in their lesser size.

when this steam reaches the cold water in the cavity, a portion of it is at first condensed into water, while it gradually raises the temperature of the water already in the cavity; till at last the lower part of the cavity is filled with boiling water, and the upper part with steam under high pressure. As the pressure of the steam increases, its expansive force becomes greater and greater, and at Dr. Hender-length it forces the boiling water up the fissure or pipe E B, and a considerable quantity runs over the rim of the basin. When the pressure on the steam in the upper part of the cavity A, is thus diminished, it expands till all the water D, is driven to E, the bottom of the pipe. When this happens, the steam rushes up with great velocity, as on the opening of the valve of a steam boiler. If the pipe be choked up artificially with stones, (as was done by Dr. Henderson) a great increase of heat must take place, for it is prevented from escaping in steam; so that the water is made to boil up in a few minutes, and this brings on an eruption.

son gives the following picture-like description of a joint eruption of both these fountains:-"About ten minutes past five in the morning we were aroused by the roaring of Strockn, which blew up a great quantity of steam; and when my watch stood at the full quarter, a crash took place as if the earth had burst, which was instantaneously succeeded by jets of water and spray rising in a perpendicular column to the height of sixty feet. As the sun happened to be behind a cloud, we had no expectation of witnessing any thing more sublime than we had already seen. But Strockn had not been in action above twenty minutes, when the Great Geyser, apparently jealous of her reputation, and indignant at our bestowing so much of our time and applause on her rival, began to thunder tremendously, and emitted such quantities of water and steam, that we could not be satisfied with a distant view, but hastened to the mound with as much curiosity as if it had been the first eruption we had beheld. However, if she was more interesting in point of magnitude, she gave the less satisfaction in point of THE life of Pascal is memorable, as exhibiting the duration, having again become tranquil in the course singular fame, various ability, and extensive knowof five minutes; whereas her less gaudy but more ledge, which may be acquired at an age scarcely steady companion continued to play till within four beyond boyhood. Born in 1623, at Clermont in Auminutes of six o'clock." Dr. Henderson adds the sin-vergne, his father a lawyer of rank in the province,

Mr. Lyell applies the same principle, the agency of steam upon melted lava accumulated in cavities in the bowels of the earth-to account for the eruptions of volcanoes, and, though not absolutely demonstrated, there is every presumption in favour of its probability.

PASCAL.

1832.J

perceived such indications of genius in the child, that he gave up his profession, for the purpose of educating him in Paris. A man of literature and intelligence, he wished to fix his son's attention on the classics. But the boy had already chosen a study for himself, and had unconsciously mastered the rudiments of geometry. This science was so strongly opposed to his father's objects, that he was forbidden ever to speak of it. But the ruling passion prevailed. In solitude his mind teemed with questions and problems; and, in a short period, with only a piece of charcoal and the wall of his chamber for his apparatus, he had formed diagrams of a set of propositions up to the thirty-second of the first book of Euclid: at twelve, he had been as it were the discoverer of a science! The celebrated Descartes was then at the head of scientific fame. The boy, at the age of sixteen, pre"Treatise on the Section of the sented him with a Cone." It won the philosopher's highest applause. His father's reluctance was now overcome; and this extraordinary boy was suffered to pursue his triumphs at his will.

The discoveries of Torricelli had attracted general attention. The invention of the air-pump and of the barometer, which is now become our weather-glass, had The power just awoke the whole scientific world. of grasping the impalpable air, of reducing the whirlwind to weight and measure, of expelling it at pleasure from space, of guaging the heights and depths of the valley and the mountain, of foretelling the capricious changes of the elements, all formed a magnificent addition to the command of man Pascal applied himself to the study over Nature. with his characteristic vigour; and, in a series of admirable experiments, showed an equal skill in practical science and in its abstract studies. He was now twentyfour, and had established his rank among the most eminent names. Five years earlier, he had invented a calculating machine, which proved his mechanical dexterity, and to which even the skill of our later day has ventured to add but little. It was the custom at this period to circulate problems or questions to be answered by the leading mathematicians. Father Mersenne had circulated a problem, demanding to find out the laws and properties of a curve formed by the movement of a point in a coach-wheel. That such a problem should have puzzled men of science may raise a smile; but difficulties are to be judged of in reference to their time. Pascal fixed his mind on the problem; and to the surprise, and perhaps the chagrin, of the proposer, answered him by a complete solution.

But a painful and melancholy change was soon to show the uncertainty of human genius, vigour, and wisdom. The quarrels of the Jansenists and Jesuits convulsed France. The retired habits and metaphysical mind of Pascal found a kindred spirit in the reveries of Jansenism. He became a member of the celebrated Society of Port Royal, and rapidly distinguished himself by his zeal in their defence, his ardent adoption of their principles, and his submission to Of an infirm constitution, and even their austerities. that constitution exhausted by labour, he put himself under the most rigid and exhausting discipline. He is said to have worn an iron chain next his skin: he fasted, practised various mortifications to wean himself from what he termed the evils of the world, and, at length, by one of those extravagances which form the character and the punishment of religious enthusiasm, he broke off all intercourse with his relations and friends. He was now but thirty, but mentally His frame, and bodily he was in advanced age. withering away under discomfort, solitude, and cheerless study, and his mind wandering in airy speculations.

27

An accident, in the year 1654, added earthly terror to the gloom and fears of the invisible world. His decaying health had rendered exercise necessary, which he was in the habit of taking in a carriage. One day the horses took fright, and ran into the Seine. The carriage was fortunately checked on the edge of the bank, and Pascal was saved: but from this moment the remembrance of his danger never left his mind. A precipice seemed perpetually to open before him; and, even when in his chamber, he dreaded to look over the side of his chair, lest he should see the gulph yawning for him below. He now saw visions, and dreamed dreams, lay in trances, and held converse with things not of earth, Pascal was mad.

Yet in the midst of this life of severity, by one of those splendid efforts by which genius vindicates itself in its lowest humiliation, Pascal produced the Provincial Letters," a satire on Jesuitism, one of the most powerful and popular achievements in the history It was the first resolute blow given to of literature.

the Jesuits in Europe, and it was effectual: it laid
the axe to the root of the tree. But its author was
soon to be insensible to the applause which showered
on him from every part of Europe. He was a broken
old man, a recluse, and sunk into hopeless melancholy.
During his latter years he was accustomed to think
His object was one which
and talk much of religion, and to record his thoughts
on fragments of paper.
might have well and worthily occupied the highest
In this occu-
mind,-a defence and illustration of Christianity;
but his powers were now worn away.
pation he lingered down to the grave, dying, in 1662,
at the age of thirty-nine; a period at which the hu-
man intellect has scarcely more than reached its
vigour, and is little more than beginning to acquire
the experience which alone can render the spring and
elasticity of genius, safe, dignified, and wise.

His works were collected soon after his death, and
His death was universally regretted,
received by the learned world with the honours due
to his name.
as the premature extinction of one of the lights of his
country. Yet he cannot be said to have fallen short
of the years of man, who has accomplished in few,
more than thousands and tens of thousands accom-
And Pascal, at thirty-nine, loaded
plish in many.
with the palms of science, literature, and religion, had
justly earned his title to immortality.

LINES ON A BROOK.

Look at this brook, so blithe, so free!

Thus hath it been, fair boy! for evet,
A shining, dancing, babbling river;
And thus 'twill ever be ;-
"Twill run,

from mountain to the main,
With just the same sweet babbling voice
That now sings out, “Rejoice, rejoice!"
Perhaps 'twill be a chain

That will a thousand years remain;
Ay, through all times and changes last,
And link the present to the past:
Perhaps upon this self-same spot,
Hereafter may a merry knot

(My children's children!) meet and play,
And think on me, some summer's day;
And smile (perhaps through youth's brief tears,
While thinking back through wastes of years,)
And softly say-

""Twas here the old man used to stray,
And gaze upon the sky; and dream,
(Long, long ago!) by this same stream.
He's in his grave! Ungentle Time
Hath dealt but harshly with his rhyme;
But we will ne'er forget, that he
Taught us to love this river free."

4-2

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horizontally before him to a perpendicular brass bar. This brass bar is fitted into the top of a small four In-legged stool, near one end of it. While in this attitude he appears engaged in prayer, holding in his hand a number of beads, and having his eyes half-closed. As soon as the exhibition, which usually continues only a few minutes, has ended, he is again screened by his attendants till he has dismounted and taken the whole of his apparatus to pieces, when he produces only the stool, the brass bar, and the deer skin for the inspection of the spectators.

THE AIR BRAHMIN. MOST of our readers will recollect the celebrated dian Jugglers, who a few years ago visited England, and performed some very extraordinary feats at public exhibitions. One of them had acquired the astonishing and dangerous power of passing a naked metal blade into his stomach, or, as he himself termed it, of "swallowing a sword." He fell a sacrifice to his temerity: in one of his performances, the blade taking a wrong direction, wounded him internally, and he expired in violent convulsions.

In person he is a slender, middle sized man, and Another person of this description, but of a higher has attained a considerable age. He wears a long native caste, has lately appeared in India. His per-chintz gown, a yellow dyed turban, and a high waistformance, though of a no less astonishing, is altoge- band. Around his neck is suspended a row of large ther of a harmless, nature. By the kindness of a Pundaram beads. friend we are enabled to present our readers with an engraving, from the original drawing of an Indian artist, together with an account, which may be relied upon, of this singular person, as he appears when exhibiting this strange feat.

The drawing was taken at the Government House at Madras, and represents the Cuddapah Brahmin, named Sheshal, in the act of sitting in the air, apparently without any support, an exploit which he performs with great address. When he is about to exhibit, his attendants surround him with a blanket so as to screen him from the view of the spectators till he is mounted; a signal is then given, the blanket is removed and he is beheld sitting in the posture represented in the sketch.

Sheshal is frequently invited to the gardens of gentlemen residing at Madras, for the purpose of exhibiting his singular skill. By this means he obtains a considerable sum of money. A friend who has witnessed his performance, writes us the following account of it from Tanjore.

"He exhibited before me in the following manner : he first allowed me to examine a stool about 18 inches in height, on the seat of which were two brass stars inlaid, a little larger than a dollar; he then displayed a hollow bamboo 2 feet in length and 2 inches in diameter. The next article was a roll of antelope skin, perhaps 4 inches in circumference, and 2 feet in length. The man then concealed himself in a large shawl, with these three articles and a large bag; after a delay of five minutes, during which he appeared very busy under the shawl, he ordered the covering to be taken off him, and he was discovered actually sitting cross-legged on the air; but leaning his right arm on the end of the antelope skin, which communicated horizontally with the hollow bamboo, which again was connected perpendicularly with the stool immediately over one of the brass stars. sat for more than half an hour, counting his beads in his right hand, and without once changing the expression of his countenance which was quite calm, and as if this new mode of sitting was no exertion to him.

He

"I saw him exhibit four times, and each time tried my utmost to discover the secret but without success. A large bribe was offered to induce him to reveal his mode of performance, but he declined the explanation.

"I account for it thus. The brass stars conceal a receptacle for a steel bar passing through the hollow bamboo; the antelope skin conceals another steel rod which is screwed into the one in the bamboo; other machinery of the same kind passes through the man's sleeves and down his body, and supports a ring on which he sits."

MILTON'S RETREAT DURING THE PLAGUE. WHEN the Great Plague was ravaging the metropolis, Milton removed to the small house which is here represented, and which is situated at Chalfont St. Giles, in Buckinghamshire. It had been hired for him by his friend Elwood, the Quaker, who was then residing in the vicinity, having been driven from London by the persecutions he experienced on account of his peculiar tenets. "Here," says Dr. Symmons, in his Life of Milton, "the young quaker called upon his friend and received from him a manuscript, which the author desired him to carry home and to read at his The only part of his body which appears to have leisure. This manuscript was that of Paradise Lost. any support whatever is the wrist of his right arm, After I had with the best attention read it through,' which rests upon a deer skin rolled up and fixed | says the respectable Elwood, "I made him another

visit, and returned him his book, with due aknowledg- | blest individual in the country-he who knows the ment of the favour he had done me in communicating least and fares the worst-owes far more to society it to me. He asked me how I liked it, and what I than he does to himself. The good institutions, and thought of it: which I modestly and freely told him; all that is excellent in society, are the result of the and, after some further discourse, I pleasantly said to labours of the wise and the good through many him, Thou hast said much here of Paradise lost; but ages,-from the very beginning of civilization indeed; what hast thou to say of Paradise found? He made for nations are the scholars and imitators of nations, me no answer, but sat some time in a muse: then just as men are the scholars and imitators of men. broke off that discourse, and fell upon another subject. After the sickness was over, and the city well cleansed and become safely habitable again, he returned thither; and when afterwards I went to wait. upon him, which I seldom failed of doing whenever my occasions led me to London) he showed me his second poem, called Paradise Regained, and in a pleasant tone said to me, this is owing to you, for you put into my head by the question you put to me at Chal-which the planting and the sowing could be done to font, what before I had not thought of.'

Thus, when we reflect duly, we discover that every man who earns his bread in society, is indebted to society for it. Take a man who digs the ground:how did he find out that digging the ground would make it more fertile? Where did he obtain a spade? Who taught him how to use it? Who instructed him as to the roots which it is best to plant, and the seeds which it is best to sow; or who told him the times at

the greatest advantage? Certainly not himself; for before any man could have found out the way and the time of doing the very simplest thing that the humblest labourer has occasion to do, the term of his life would have been out, and he would have been in his grave. Indeed his term would have been but short, for he would have died of hunger before he had been long. in existence.

This debt to society is not confined to those in humble life; for the higher the station, the debt is the greater; because all civilization, all knowledge, and all enjoyment, except those which man has in common with the beasts, had their origin in society, and were by society brought to the condition in which we find them. We are, in fact, debtors to society for the wisdom and the improvements of more ages than

"The term of Milton's residence at Chalfont has we have years to spend in it. That wisdom and those not been precisely specified; but from the circum-improvements are talents committed to our care, and stances to which it was accommodated, the prevalence if we do not hand them down to the generation which and the extirpation of the plague in the capital, we is to come after us, in a more valuable condition than may infer that it extended from the June or the July we ourselves received them in, we are shamefully unof 1665 to the March or the April of the following grateful to our fathers, and cruelly unjust to our year. In this period, as I fully concur in opinion children. with its editor, Mr. Dunster, was the poem of Paradise Regained not only begun, but brought to its conclusion. It was shown, as we have just been informed, to Elwood on his first visit to London after the author's return from Chalfont; and there is nothing in the poem, whether we respect its length or the style of its composition, evidently marked with the characters of haste, which can induce us to reject as improbable the fact of its production, by a mind like Milton's, in the space of ten months.

NO. I. INTRODUCTORY.

IF people always knew and kept in mind the obligations they are under to society, they would be much better members of it, and much happier in every respect. Robinson Crusoe, on the desert island, before he got his man "Friday," is a picture of solitude which every body knows. But the picture of solitude there given, though it be pleasantly painted, is far from being true. All the arts, stratagems, and contrivances which Crusoe puts in execution, are derived from society. Crusoe is not a solitary, nor even a savage; and though his means of gratification are different, his desires are just the same as if he had been all the time in England.

The common boast of a rich man that, " he can pay his way, and is obliged to nobody," is a very silly boast; for the man is a debtor to others for all that he possesses; and of course the larger his possessions are, the more he is in debt. That debt is, however, due only to society generally; and therefore no individual member of society is entitled to ask payment of it. It is not a debt which can be paid with money. It must be paid in conduct; and in doing those particular duties which belong to his station.

In like manner, the man who is destitute, who possesses nothing, and has nothing to do, is not independent of society, for to society he is indebted for his very powers of doing; and if he has had opportunities of turning those powers to account, and has neglected them, he is more deeply and more criminally a debtor. However wretched he may feel, or may be in reality, he is still much better than if he were not in society; for then he would be without the abilities of doing; whereas, the very worst that can happen in society, is being without the opportunity or the will of turning those abilities to account. It is not always very easy to distinguish between the want of opportunity and the want of will, because there is a will to find opportunity, as well as a will to improve it, when it is known; and in both cases, the proverb, "where there is a will there is a way," holds true.

We who have lived all our time in society, can There are only two classes of persons who can be form no notion of what a wretched and destitute strictly said to have claims upon society; those creature man would be if he were alone, and had to whom Providence has denied, or has taken never profited by the aid, the instruction, or the ex-away, those abilities which, called forth as they are ample of others. But it is certain, that the very hum- I by society, may be considered as the stock in trade"