Chapter M: P. Huber is the only modern author that appears to have been witness to (12)

We now proceed to some curious particulars, under the term HURRICANE.--This is indeed a general name for any violent storm of wind, but is peculiarly applied to those storms which happen in the warmer climates, and which greatly exceed the most violent ones known in this country. Dr. Mosely, in his Treatise on Tropical Diseases, observes, that the ruin and desolation accompanying a hurricane can scarcely be described. Like fire, its resistless force consumes every thing in its track, in the most terrible and rapid manner. It is generally preceded by an awful stillness of the elements, and a closeness and mistiness in the atmosphere, which makes the sun appear red, and the stars larger. But a dreadful reverse succeeds: the sky is suddenly overcast and wild; the sea rises at once from a profound calm into mountains; the wind rages and roars like the noise of cannon; the rain descends in a deluge; a dismal obscurity envelops the earth with darkness; and the superior regions appear rent with lightning and thunder. The earth on these occasions often does, and always seems to tremble; whilst terror and consternation distract all nature: birds are carried from the woods into the ocean; and those whose element is the sea, seek for refuge on land; the frightened animals in the field assemble together, and are almost suffocated by the impetuosity of the wind in searching for shelter, which, when found, is but the prelude to destruction. The roofs of houses are carried to vast distances from their walls, which are beat to the ground, burying their inhabitants under them. Large trees are torn up by the roots, and huge branches shivered off, and driven through the air in every direction with immense velocity. Every tree and shrub that withstands the shock is stripped of its boughs and foliage; plants and grass are laid flat on the earth; and luxuriant spring is changed in a moment to dreary winter. This direful tragedy ended, (when it happens in a town,) the devastation is surveyed with accumulated horror: the harbour is covered with wrecks of boats and vessels; and the shore has not a vestige of its former state remaining. Mounds of rubbish and rafters in one place; heaps of earth and trunks of trees in another; deep gullies from torrents of water; and the dead and dying bodies of men, women, and children, half buried, and scattered about, where streets stood but an hour before,--present the miserable survivors with the shocking conclusion of a spectacle, to be followed by famine, and, when accompanied by an earthquake, by mortal diseases.

Philosophers are now inclined to attribute these terrible phenomena to electricity, though the manner in which it acts in this case is by no means known. It seems probable, indeed, that not only hurricanes, but even the most gentle gales of wind, are produced by the action of the electric fluid.

In the next place we shall treat of MONSOONS, or TRADE-WINDS.

"Trade-winds, observing well their stated course,
To human good employ their pow'rful force;
The loaded ships across the ocean fann'd
By steady gales, spread commerce through the land:
These you observe--but have you no desire
The hidden spring of such effects t'inquire?
Or, when contending winds around you blow,
Do you ne'er wish the cause of them to know?"

Monsoons are those winds which blow six months constantly the same way, and the contrary way the other six months.

Mr. Olinthus Gregory observes, that "though the winds in a temperate zone of the earth are very inconstant and changeable, yet this is not the case in every part of the terrestrial globe; for in the torrid zone, and some other parts, the winds are generally very uniform and constant in their direction, as will appear from the following facts relative thereto:--

"1. Over the Atlantic, and Pacific oceans, particularly between thirty degrees of north and thirty degrees of south latitude, the trade-winds, as they are called, blow uniformly from east to west, all the year round, with a small variation in the different seasons.

"2. When the sun is on the equator, the trade-winds, in sailing northward, veer more and more from the east towards the north; so that about their limit they become nearly north-east; and _vice versa_ in sailing southward, they become at last nearly south-east. 3. When the sun is near the tropic of Cancer, the trade-winds north of the equator become more nearly east than at other times, and those south of the equator more nearly south; and _vice versa_, when the sun is near the tropic of Capricorn. 4. The trade-winds are not due east upon the equator, but about four degrees to the north of it.

"To account for these facts relative to the winds, is a most curious and important, though mysterious, inquiry; having employed the pens of several very eminent philosophers: but amongst all the explanations I have seen, there is none in my opinion more agreeable to nature than one given by Mr. John Dalton, of Manchester, in his "Meteorological Observations and Essays." The method of reasoning applied to the subject in that work, I shall here make use of.

"The inequality of heat in the different climates and places, and the earth's rotation on its axis, appears to be the principal causes of all winds, regular and irregular. It may be observed, that whenever the heat is greatest, there the air will ascend, and a supply of colder air will be received from the neighbouring parts: it will be willingly allowed, that the heat is at all times greatest in the torrid zone, and decreases gradually in proceeding northward or southward; also that the poles may at all times be considered as the centres of cold. Hence it reasonably follows, that abstracting from accidental circumstances, there will be a constant ascent of air over the torrid zone, which air will afterwards fall northward and southward, whilst the colder air below is determined by a continual impulse towards the equator.

"When the effects of the earth's rotation are taken into consideration, our reasoning must be as follows: the air over any part of the earth's surface, when apparently at rest, or calm, will have the same rotatory velocity as that part; but if a quantity of air in the northern hemisphere receive an impulse in the direction of the meridian, either northward or southward, its rotatory velocity will be greater in the former case, and less in the latter, than that of the air into which it moves; consequently, if it move northward, it will have a greater velocity eastward than the air, or surface of the earth over which it moves, and will therefore become a south-west wind, or a wind between the south and west; and, _vice versa_, if it move southward, it becomes a north-east wind. From similar considerations it will appear, that in the southern hemisphere the winds will be north-west and south-east respectively.

"The trade-winds may therefore be explained thus: The two general masses of air proceeding from both hemispheres towards the equator, as they advance are constantly deflected more and more towards the east, by reason of the earth's rotation; that from the southern hemisphere, originally a south wind, is made to veer more and more towards the east; in like manner, that from the northern hemisphere is made to change its directions from the north towards the east: these two masses meeting near the equator, their velocities south and north destroy each other, and they proceed afterwards with their common velocity from east to west round the torrid zone, excepting the irregularities produced by the continents. The equator is not in reality the place of concourse, but the northern parallel of four degrees; because the centre of heat is thereabouts, the sun being longer on the north side of the equator, than on the south side. Moreover, when the sun is near one of the tropics, the centre of heat upon the earth's surface is then nearer that tropic than usual, and therefore the winds about the tropic are more nearly east at that time, and those about the other tropic more nearly north and south.

"If all the terrestrial globe were covered with water, or if the variations of the earth's surface in heat were regular and constant, so that the heat was the same in every part of the same parallel of latitude, the winds would then be very nearly regular also: but this is not the case; for we find the irregularities of heat, arising from the interspersion of land and sea, are such, that though all the parts of the atmosphere in some measure conspire to produce regular winds about the torrid zone, yet very striking irregularities are often found to take place. A remarkable instance we have in monsoons, which are winds that in the Indian ocean, &c. blow for six months together one way, and the next six months the contrary way: these, with sea and land breezes, do not seem easily to be accounted for on any other principle than that of rarefaction.

"Perhaps some persons may be led to suppose, that the winds in the northern temperate zone should be between the north and east towards the poles, and between the south and west nearer the equator, almost as regular as the trade-winds: but when the change of seasons, the different capacities of land and water for heat, the interference and opposition of the two general currents, be considered, it might be concluded almost next to impossible that the winds in the temperate zone should exhibit any thing like regularity: however, notwithstanding this, observations sufficiently evince, that the winds therein are, for the most part, in the direction of one of the general currents; namely, somewhere between the south and west, or more commonly between the north and east; and that winds in other directions happen only as accidental varieties, chiefly in unsettled weather.

The engraving represents an extraordinary shower of these remarkable meteors, which took place at the Falls of Niagara. The view comprises the entire falls, with Goat Island in the centre.]

"We may have frequently taken notice, that several winds, particularly stormy ones, are attended with a cloudy sky; to this it may be added, that we have more winds than usually occur in rather less latitudes, where the atmosphere is generally more serene: these considered, make it exceedingly probable, that the aqueous vapours which are sustained by the air, from whence come clouds and rains, may be one great cause of irregular winds. It has been determined, from very accurate experiments, that one inch of water when evaporated will fill more than 2000 inches of space: hence it appears that the water which falls in drops of rain, &c. occupied more than 2000 times the space when it floated in the atmosphere in vapours; the condensation thereof must therefore occasion vacua of such a nature, as will cause winds of different kinds and degrees, according to the deficiency which is to be supplied.

"The economy of winds, an illustration of which has been here attempted, is admirably adapted to the various purposes of nature, and to the general intercourse of mankind:--if the earth had been fixed, and the sun had revolved about it, the air over the torrid zone, and particularly about the equator, would have been almost always stagnant; and in the other zones the winds would have had little variation either in direction or strength; in this case navigation would have been greatly impeded, and a communication between the two hemispheres by sea, rendered impracticable. On the present system of things, however, the irregularity of winds is of the happiest consequence, by being subservient to navigation: and a general circulation of air constantly takes place between the eastern and western hemispheres, as well as between the polar and equatorial regions; by reason of which, that diffusion and intermixture of the different aërial fluids, so necessary for the life, health, and prosperity of the animal and vegetable kingdoms, is accomplished:--such is the transcendent wisdom and providential care of the beneficent Father of all!"

The following interesting description of the SOUTH-WEST MONSOON IN INDIA, is taken from Elphinstone's Account of Cabul.--The most remarkable rainy season, is that called in India the South-west Monsoon. It extends from Africa to the Malay Peninsula, and deluges all the intermediate countries within certain lines of latitude, for four months in the year. In the south of India, this monsoon commences about the beginning of June, but it gets later as we advance towards the north. Its approach is announced by vast masses of clouds that rise from the Indian ocean, and advance towards the north-east, gathering and thickening as they approach the land. After some threatening days, the sky assumes a troubled appearance in the evenings, and the monsoon in general sets in during the night. It is attended with such a thunder-storm as can scarcely be imagined by those who have only seen that phenomenon in a temperate climate. It generally begins with violent blasts of wind, which are succeeded by floods of rain. For some hours, lightning is seen almost without intermission; sometimes it only illuminates the sky, and shews the clouds near the horizon; at others, it discovers the distant hills, and again leaves all in darkness; when in an instant it re-appears in vivid and successive flashes, and exhibits the nearest objects in all the brightness of day. During all this time the distant thunder never ceases to roll, and is only silenced by some nearer peal, which bursts on the ear with such a sudden and tremendous crash, as can scarcely fail to strike the most insensible heart with awe. At length the thunder ceases, and nothing is heard but the continued pouring of the rain, and the rushing of the rising streams. The next day presents a gloomy spectacle: the rain still descends in torrents, and scarcely allows a view of the blackened fields; the rivers are swollen and discoloured, and sweep down along with them the hedges, the huts, and the remains of the cultivation, which was carried on during the dry season, into their beds.

This lasts for some days, after which the sky clears, and discovers the face of nature, changed as if by enchantment. Before the storm, the fields were parched up, and, except in the beds of the rivers, scarce a blade of vegetation was to be seen; the clearness of the sky was not interrupted by a single cloud, but the atmosphere was loaded with dust, which was sufficient to render distant objects dim, as in a mist, and to make the sun appear dull and discoloured, till he attained a considerable elevation: a parching wind blew like a blast from a furnace, and heated wood, iron, and every other solid material, even in the shade; and immediately before the monsoon, this wind had been succeeded by still more sultry calms. But when the first violence of the storm is over, the whole earth is covered with a sudden but luxuriant verdure: the rivers are full and tranquil, the air is pure and delicious; and the sky is varied, and embellished with clouds. The effect of the change is visible on all the animal creation, and can only be imagined in Europe, by supposing the depth of a dreary winter to start at once into all the freshness and brilliancy of spring. From this time the rain falls at intervals for about a month, when it comes on again with great violence, and in July the rains are at their height; during the third month, they rather diminish, but are still heavy; and in September they gradually abate, and are often entirely suspended till near the end of the month, when they depart amidst thunders and tempests, as they came.

The following Table, which gives some particulars respecting the VELOCITY OF THE WIND, was calculated by Mr. John Smeaton, the celebrated engineer, and is founded on a correct series of practical observations:--

Miles Feet
per hour. per second.
1 1.47
2 2.93 } Light airs.
3 4.40 }
4 5.87 } Breeze.
5 7.33 }
10 14.67 } Brisk gale.
15 22. }
20 29.34 } Fresh gale.
25 36.67 }
30 40.01 } Strong gale.
35 51.34 }
40 58.68 } Hard gale.
45 66.01 }
50 73.35 } Storm.
60 88.02 }
80 117.36 } Hurricane, tearing
100 146.70 } up trees, &c.

We conclude this chapter with a poetical enumeration of the benefits arising from the wind:--

"Of what important use to human kind,
To what great ends subservient, is the wind!
Where'er the aërial active vapour flies,
It drives the clouds, and ventilates the skies;
Sweeps from the earth infection's noxious train,
And swells to wholesome rage the sluggish main.
For should the sea unagitated stand,
Death, with huge strides, would desolate the land;
The scorching sun, with unpropitious beam,
Would give to grief an everlasting theme;
And baneful vapours, lurking in the veins,
Would fiercely burn with unabating pains.
Nor thus alone air purities the seas,
O'er torrid climes it pours the healthful breeze:
Climes where the sun direct flings scorching day,
Feel cooling air his sultry rage allay;
Unceasing goodness, with unceasing skill,
Educing certain good from seeming ill.
His guardian care extends o'er ev'ry shore,
And blends his favours with what men deplore;
The sable nations hence, and burning skies,
See luscious fruits in varying beauty rise;
Spontaneous Nature laugh at culture's toil,
And rich luxuriance bless the grateful soil."

CHAP. L.

CURIOSITIES RESPECTING SHOWERS, STORMS, &c.

_Surprising Showers of Hail--Singular Effects of a Storm--The
Mirage--Sand Floods--Showers of Gossamers--Winter in Russia._

Ye vapours, hail, and snow,
Praise ye th' Almighty Lord,
And stormy winds that blow
To execute his word.
_Watts._

Then from aërial treasures downwards pours
Sheets of unsully'd snow in lucid show'rs;
Flake after flake, thro' air thick wav'ring flies
'Till one vast shining waste all nature lies.
Then the proud hills a virgin whiteness shed,
A dazzling brightness glitters from the mead;
The hoary trees reflect a silver show,
And groves beneath the lovely burden low.
_Broome._

SURPRISING SHOWERS OF HAIL.

Natural historians record various instances of surprising showers of hail, in which the hailstones were of extraordinary magnitude. Mezeray, speaking of the war of Lewis XII. in Italy, in 1510, relates, that there was for some time a horrible darkness, thicker than that of night; after which the clouds broke into thunder and lightning, and there fell a shower of hailstones, or rather (as he calls them) pebble-stones, which destroyed all the fish, birds, and beasts, of the country. It was attended with a strong smell of sulphur; and the stones were of a bluish colour, some of them weighing 100lb.--_Hist. de France_, tom. ii. p. 339.

At Lisle, in Flanders, in 1686, hailstones fell of a very large size; some of which contained in the middle, a dark brown matter, which, thrown on the fire, gave a very great report.--_Phil. Trans._ No. 203.

Dr. Halley and others relate, that in Cheshire, Lancashire, &c. April 29, 1697, a thick black cloud, coming from Carnarvonshire, disposed the vapours to congeal in such a manner, that for about the breadth of two miles, which was the limit of the cloud, in its progress for sixty miles it did inconceivable damage; not only killing all sorts of fowls and other small animals, but splitting trees, knocking down horses and men, and even ploughing up the earth, so that the hailstones buried themselves underground an inch or an inch and a half deep. The hailstones, many of which weighed five ounces, and some half a pound, being five or six inches in circumference, were of various figures; some round, others half round; some smooth, others embossed and crenated; the icy substance of them was very transparent and hard, but there was a snowy kernel in the centre.

In Hertfordshire, May 4, 1697, after a severe storm of thunder and lightning, a shower of hail succeeded, which far exceeded the former: some persons were killed by it, their bodies beat all black and blue; vast oaks were split, and fields of rye cut down as with a scythe. The stones measured from ten to fourteen inches round. Their figures were various, some oval, some flat, &c.--_Phil. Trans._ No. 229.

The following account of the SINGULAR EFFECTS OF A STORM, was communicated to the Dublin Philosophical Society, by the secretary:--

"Mrs. Close gave Mr. Molyneux the following account of the effects of thunder and lightning on her house at New Forge, in the county of Down, in Ireland, on August 9, 1707: She observed, that the whole day was close, hot, and sultry, with little or no wind stirring till towards the evening, when there was a small breeze, with some mizzling rain, which lasted about an hour; that as the air darkened after sunset, she saw several faint flashes of lightning, and heard some thunder-claps at a distance; that between ten and eleven o'clock, both were very violent and terrible, and so increased, and came on more frequently until a little before twelve o'clock; that one flash of lightning and clap of thunder came both at the same time, louder and more dreadful than the rest, which, as she thought, shook and inflamed the whole house; and being sensible at that instant of a violent strong sulphureous smell in her chamber, and feeling a thick gross dust falling on her hands and face as she lay in bed, she concluded that part of her house was thrown down by the thunder, or set on fire by the lightning; that, arising in this fright, she called up her family, and candles being lighted, she found her bedchamber, and the kitchen beneath it, full of smoke and dust, and the looking-glass in her chamber was broken.

"The next day she found, that part of the cornice of the chimney, which stood without the gabel-end of the house where her chamber was, had been struck off; that part of the coping of the splay of the gable-end itself was broken down, and twelve or sixteen of the shingles on the adjoining roof were raised or ruffled, but none shattered or carried away; that a part of the ceiling in her chamber beneath those shingles was forced down, and part of the plaster and pinning stones of the adjoining wall was also broken off and loosened, the whole breach being sixteen or twenty inches broad; that at this place there was left on the wall a smutted scar or trace, as if blacked by the smoke of a candle, which pointed downwards towards another place on the same wall, where a like breach was made, partly behind the place of the looking-glass; that the boards on the back of a large hair-trunk, full of linen, standing beneath the looking-glass, were forced in, and splintered as if by the blow of a smith's sledge; that two-thirds of the linen within this trunk were pierced or cut through, the cut appearing of a quadrangular figure, and between two or three inches over; that one end of the trunk was forced out, as the back was driven in; that at about two feet distance from the end of the trunk, where the floor and the side-wall of the house joined, there was a breach made in the plaster, where a small chink or crevice was to be seen between the sideboard of the floor and the wall, so wide that a man could thrust his lingers down; and that just beneath this, in the kitchen, the ceiling was forced down, and some of the plaster of the wall broken off; that exactly under this there stood a large tub or vessel of wood, inclosed with a crib of brick and lime, which was broken and splintered all to pieces, and most of the brick and lime work of it scattered about the kitchen.

"The looking-glass was broken with such violence, that there was not a piece of it to be found of the size of half-a-crown, and several pieces of it were sticking like hail-shot in the chamber door, which was of oak, and on the other side of the room; several of the edges and corners of some of the pieces of the broken glass were tinged of a light flame colour, as if heated in the fire; the curtains of the bed were cut in several places, supposed to be done by the pieces of the glass. Several pieces of muslin and wearing linen, left on the large hair-trunk, were thrown about the room, no way singed or scorched, and yet the hair on the back of the trunk, where the breach was made, was singed; the uppermost part of the linen within the trunk was not touched, and the lowermost parcel, consisting of more than 350 ply of linen, was pierced through, of which none was anywise smutted, except the uppermost ply of a tablecloth, that lay over all the rest; there was a yellow tinge or stain perceivable on some part of the damaged linen, and the whole smelt strongly of sulphur; the glass of two windows in the bed-chamber above, and two windows in the kitchen below, were so shattered, that there was scarcely one whole frame left, in many of them. The pewter, brass, and iron furniture in the kitchen, were thrown down, and scattered about; particularly, a large girdle, about twenty pounds weight, that hung upon an iron hook near the ceiling, was found lying on the floor. A cat was found dead next morning in the kitchen, with her legs extended in a moving posture, with no other sign of being hurt, than that the fur was singed a little about the rump.

"It was further remarkable, that the wall, both above and below a little window in the same gable-end, was so shattered, that the light could be seen through the crevices in the wall, and upon a large stone on the outside of the wall; beneath this window was a mark, as if made by the stroke of a smith's, sledge, and a splinter of the stone was broken off, of some pounds weight. I was further informed, that from the time of the great thunder-clap, both the thunder and lightning diminished gradually, so that in an hour's time all was still and quiet again."

We proceed to give an account of THE MIRAGE.--From Belzoni's Narrative.

"This phenomenon is often described by travellers, who assert having been deceived by it, as at a distance it appears to them like water. This is certainly the fact, and I must confess that I have been deceived myself, even after I was aware of it. The perfect resemblance to water, and the strong desire for this element, made me conclude, in spite of all my caution not to be deceived, that it was really water I saw. It generally appears like a still lake, so unmoved by the wind, that every thing above it is to be seen most distinctly reflected, which is the principal cause of the deception. If the wind agitate any of the plants that rise above the horizon of the mirage, the motion is seen perfectly at a great distance. If the traveller stands elevated much above the mirage, the water seems less united and less deep, for, as the eyes look down upon it, there is not thickness enough in the vapour of the surface of the ground to conceal the earth from the sight; but if the traveller be on a level with the horizon of the mirage, he cannot see through it, so that it appears to him clear water. By putting my head first to the ground, and then mounting a camel, the height of which from the ground might have been ten feet at the most, I found a great difference in the appearance of the mirage. On approaching it, it becomes thinner, and appears as if agitated by the wind, like a field of ripe corn. It gradually vanishes as the traveller approaches, and at last entirely disappears when he is on the spot."

We shall now introduce to the reader a curious account of SAND FLOODS; a name given to the flowing of sand so common in the deserts of Arabia. Mr. Bruce gives the following description of some that he saw in travelling through that long and dreary desert.--"At one o'clock (says he) we alighted among some acacia trees at Waadi el Halboub, having gone twenty-one miles. We were here at once surprised and terrified by a sight, surely one of the most magnificent in the world. In that vast expanse of desert from west to north-west of us, we saw a number of prodigious pillars of sand at different distances, at times moving with great celerity, at others stalking on with a majestic slowness: at intervals we thought they were coming in a few minutes to overwhelm us; and small quantities of sand did actually more than once reach us. Again they would retreat so as to be almost out of sight, their tops reaching to the very clouds. Here the tops often separated from the bodies; and these, once disjoined, dispersed in the air, and did not appear more. Sometimes they were broken near the middle, as if struck with a large cannon-shot. About noon they began to advance with considerable swiftness upon us, the wind being very strong at north. Eleven of them ranged alongside of us about the distance of three miles. The greatest diameter of the largest appeared to me, at that distance, as if it would measure ten feet. They retired from us with a wind at south-east, leaving an impression upon my mind to which I can give no name, though surely one ingredient in it was fear, with a considerable deal of wonder and astonishment. It was in vain to think of flying; the swiftest horse, or fastest sailing ship, could not carry us out of this danger; and the full persuasion of this riveted me as if to the spot where I stood, and let the camels gain on me so much in my state of lameness, that it was with some difficulty I could overtake them. The same appearance of moving pillars of sand presented themselves to us this day, in form and disposition like those we had seen at Waadi el Halboub, only they seemed to be more in number and less in size. They came several times in a direction close upon us, that is, I believe, within less than two miles. They became, immediately after sun-rise, like a thick wood, and almost darkened the sun: his rays shining through them for near an hour, gave them an appearance of pillars of fire. Our people now became desperate: the Greek shrieked out, and said it was the day of judgment; Ismael pronounced it to be hell; and the Tucorories, that the world was on fire. I asked Idris if ever he had before seen such a sight? He said he had often seen them as terrible, though never worse; but what he feared most was that extreme redness in the air, which was a sure presage of the coming of the simoom."

The flowing of sand, though far from being so tremendous and hurtful as in Arabia, is of very bad consequences in Britain, as many valuable pieces of land have thus been entirely lost; of which we give the following instances from Mr. Pennant, together with a probable means of preventing them in future.--"I have more than once (says he) on the east coasts of Scotland, observed the calamitous state of several extensive tracts, formerly in a most flourishing condition, at present covered with sands, unstable as those of the deserts of Arabia. The parish of Fyrie, in the county of Aberdeen, is now reduced to two farms, and above five hundred pounds a year lost to the Errol family, as appears by the oath of the factor in 1600, made before the court of session, to ascertain the minister's salary: not a vestige is to be seen of any buildings, unless a fragment of the church. The estate of Coubin, near Forres, is another melancholy instance. This tract was once worth three hundred pounds a year, but at this time is overwhelmed with sand. This strange inundation was still in motion in 1769, chiefly when a strong wind prevailed. Its motion is so rapid, that I have been assured, that an apple-tree has been so covered with it one season, that only the very summit appeared. This distress was brought on about ninety years ago and was occasioned by the cutting down some trees, and pulling up the bent or star which grew on the sand-hills; which at last gave rise to the act of 15 George II. c. 33. to prohibit the destruction of this useful plant.

"I beg leave to suggest to the public a possible means of putting a stop to these destructive ravages. Providence has kindly formed this plant to grow only in pure sand. Mankind was left to make, in after times, an application of it suitable to their wants. The sand-hills on a portion of the Flintshire shores, in the parish of Llanasa, are covered with it naturally, and kept firm in their place. The Dutch perhaps owe the existence of part at least of their country, to the sowing of it on the _mobile solum_, their sand-banks. My humane and amiable friend, the late Benjamin Stillingfleet, Esq. recommended the sowing of this plant on the sandy wilds of Norfolk, that its matted roots might prevent the deluges of sand which that country experiences. It has been already remarked, that wheresoever this plant grows, the salutary effects are soon observed to follow. A single plant will fix the sand, and gather it into a hillock; these, by the increase of vegetation, are formed into larger, till by degrees a barrier is often made against the encroachments of the sea, and might often prove preventive of the calamity in question. I cannot, therefore, but recommend the trial to the inhabitants of many parts of North Britain: the plant grows in most places near the sea, and is known to the Highlanders by the name of _murah_, and to the English by that of _bent-star_."

The following is a singular but authentic account of the curious phenomenon of a SHOWER OF GOSSAMERS.--From White's Natural History of Selborne.

"On September 21, 1741, being intent on field diversions, I rose before daybreak: when I came into the inclosures, I found the stubbles and clover grounds matted all over with a thick coat of cobweb, in the meshes of which a copious and heavy dew hung so plentifully, that the whole face of the country seemed, as it were, covered with two or three setting nets, drawn one over another. When the dogs attempted to hunt, their eyes were so blinded and hoodwinked, that they could not proceed, but were obliged to lie down and scrape the incumbrances from their faces with their fore feet. As the morning advanced, the sun became bright and warm, and the day turned out one of those most lovely ones, which no season but the autumn produces; cloudless, calm, serene, and worthy the south of France itself. About nine, an appearance, very unusual, began to demand our attention; a shower of cobwebs falling from very elevated regions, and continuing without any interruption till the close of day. There webs were not single filmy threads, floating in the air in all directions, but perfect flakes or rags, some near an inch broad, and five or six long. On every side, as the observer turned his eyes, might he behold a continual succession of fresh flakes falling into his sight, and twinkling like stars as they turned their sides towards the sun. Neither before nor after, was any shower observed; but on this day the flakes hung on the trees and hedges so thick, that a diligent person might have gathered baskets full."

This chapter closes with a description of WINTER IN RUSSIA.--The winter, in the climate of Russia, approaches very suddenly. There is something very wonderful in the instantaneous change of weather about the time of winter. On one day the warmth shall be that of spring, while on the following day the winter shall break forth in all its horrors; snow and ice are spread in the course of a few hours, and the abruptness of this instant change affects even a Russian constitution. Nothing can defend the shivering inhabitant, but the artificial heat of his own house; where he seals himself up during the hibernal rigours, yet even there they reach him.

There is a pleasing description of these sudden winters in one of the letters of the poet Metastasio, while residing at Vienna. The passage is very interesting, and finely describes the instantaneous change which occurred.

"Within these few days the Teutonic winter has unexpectedly appeared, with all his magnificent train, and without the least precursor to announce his arrival. All is covered with snow. The rivers, as well as lakes, were instantly frozen in a most solid manner; and the cold blown from the seven neighbouring hills is so subtle and penetrating, that we cannot exclude it from our warmest apartment. But notwithstanding all this unforeseen and violent change of nature, I still find much amusement here, having been more formed for Arcadian tranquillity than the bustle and magnificence of courts. I am pleased with the silent concord of all existence; the roving about in search of well-known paths, fields, bushes, pastoral borders, and every known object, of which, though the fall of snow has changed the colouring, yet the design is still faithfully preserved. I reflect with sentiments of gratitude, that the friendly forest, which by its shade but lately defended me from the burning rays of the sun, now affords me materials for combating the extreme fury of the season. I laugh at winter with all its horrors, which I see without feeling, having it in our power to compose an artificial spring in our apartments at pleasure; but by an impulse of self-love, what pleases me more is, the finding out, that, compared with other seasons, winter has still its conveniences, beauties, and advantages."

CHAP. LI.

CURIOSITIES RESPECTING ICE.

_On the Greenland, or Polar Ice--On the Tremendous Concussion of
Fields of Ice--Icebergs--Magnitude of Icebergs--The Glaciers--Shower
of Ice--Remarkable Frosts._

There winter, arm'd with terrors here unknown,
Sits absolute on his unshaken throne;
Piles up his stores amid the frozen waste,
And bids the mountains he has built, stand fast;
Beckons the legions of his storms away
From happier scenes, to make this land a prey;
Proclaims the soil a conquest he has won,
And scorns to share it with the distant sun.
_Cowper._

Another poet thus describes the polar regions:--

Vast regions, dreary, bleak, and bare!
There on an icy mountain's height,
Seen only by the moon's pale light,
Stern winter rears his giant form,
His robe a mist, his voice a storm:
His frown the shiv'ring nations fly,
And, hid for half the year, in smoky caverns lie.
_Scott._

THE GREENLAND, OR POLAR ICE.

The following account of the Greenland, or Polar Ice, is abridged by the Editor of this work from a paper, by W. Scoresby, jun. M. W. S. published in The Memoirs of the Wernerian Natural-History Society:--

"Greenland is a country where every object is strikingly singular, or highly magnificent. The atmosphere, the land, and the ocean, each exhibit remarkable or sublime appearances.

"With regard to the atmosphere, several peculiarities may be noticed, viz. its darkness of colour, and density; its frequent production of crystallized snow in a wonderful perfection and variety of form and texture; and its astonishingly sudden changes from calm to storm, from fair weather to foul, and _vice versâ_.

"The land is of itself a sublime object; its stupendous mountains rising by steep acclivities from the very margin of the ocean to an immense height, terminating in rigid, conical, or pyramidical summits; its surface, contrasting its native protruding dark-coloured rocks, with its burden of purest snow;--the whole viewed, under the density of a gloomy sky, forms a picture impressive and grand.

"Of the inanimate productions of Greenland, none perhaps excites so much interest and astonishment in a stranger, as the ice, in its great abundance and variety. The stupendous masses known by the name of Ice Islands, Floating Mountains, or Icebergs, common to Davis' Straits, and sometimes met with here, from their height, various forms, and the depth of water in which they ground, are calculated to strike the beholder with wonder: yet the fields of ice, more peculiar to Greenland, are not less astonishing. Their deficiency in elevation is sufficiently compensated by their amazing extent of surface. Some of them have been observed near 100 miles in length, and more than half that breadth; each consisting of a single sheet of ice, having its surface raised in general four or six feet above the level of the water, and its base depressed to the depth of nearly twenty feet beneath."

The various kinds of Ice described.--"The ice in general is designated by a variety of appellations, distinguishing it according to the size or number of pieces, their form of aggregation, thickness, transparency, &c. I perhaps cannot better explain the terms in common acceptation amongst the whale-fishers, than by marking the disruption of a field. The thickest and strongest field cannot resist the power of a heavy swell; indeed, such are much less capable of bending without being dissevered, than the thinner ice, which is more pliable. When a field, by the set of the current, drives to the southward, and, being deserted by the loose ice, becomes exposed to the effects of a ground swell, it presently breaks into a great many pieces, few of which will exceed forty or fifty yards in diameter. Now, such a number of these pieces collected together in close contact, so that they cannot, from the top of the ship's mast, be seen over, are termed a _pack_.

"When the collection of pieces can be seen across, if it assume a circular or polygonal form, the name of _patch_ is applied, and it is called a _stream_ when its shape is more of an oblong, how narrow soever it may be, provided the continuity of the pieces is preserved.

"Pieces of very large dimensions, but smaller than fields, are denominated _floes_: thus, a field may be compared to a pack, and a floe to a patch, as far as regards their size and external form.

"Small pieces which break off, and are separated from the larger masses by the effect of attrition are called _brash-ice_, and may be collected into streams or patches.

"Ice is said to be loose or open, when the pieces are so far separated as to allow a ship to sail freely amongst them: this has likewise been called _drift-ice_.

"A _hummock_ is a protuberance raised upon any plane of ice above the common level. It is frequently produced by pressure, where one piece is squeezed upon another, often set upon its edge, and in that position cemented by the frost. Hummocks are likewise formed by pieces of ice mutually crushing each other, the wreck being heaped upon one or both of them. To hummocks, the ice is indebted for its variety of fanciful shapes, and its picturesque appearance. They occur in great numbers in heavy packs, on the edges, and occasionally in the middle of, fields and floes. They often attain the height of thirty feet or upwards.

"A _calf_, is a portion of ice which has been depressed by the same means as a hummock is elevated. It is kept down by some larger mass, from beneath which it shews itself on one side. I have seen a calf so deep and broad, that the ship sailed over it without touching, when it might be observed on both sides of the vessel at the same time: this, however, is attended with considerable danger, and necessity alone warrants the experiment, as calves have not unfrequently (by a ship's touching them, or disturbing the sea near them) been called from their submarine situation to the surface, and with such an accelerated velocity, as to stave the planks and timbers of the ship, and in some instances to reduce the vessel to a wreck.

"Any part of the upper superficies of a piece of ice, which comes to be immersed beneath the surface of the water, obtains the name of a _tongue_.

"A _bight_ signifies a bay or sinuosity, on the border of any large mass or body of ice. It is supposed to be called bight, from the low word _bite_, to take in, or entrap; because, in this situation, ships are sometimes so caught by a change of wind, that the ice cannot be cleared on either tack; and in some cases, a total loss has been the consequence."

ON THE TREMENDOUS CONCUSSIONS OF FIELDS OF ICE.--The occasional rapid motion of fields, with the strange effects produced on any opposing substance, exhibited by such immense bodies, is one of the most striking objects this country presents, and is certainly the most terrific. They not unfrequently acquire a rotary movement, whereby the circumference attains a velocity of several miles per hour. A field, thus in motion, coming in contact with another at rest, or, more especially, with a contrary direction of movement, produces a dreadful shock. The consequences of a body of more than ten thousand millions of tons in weight, meeting with resistance when in motion, may be better conceived than expressed! The weaker field is crushed with an awful noise; sometimes the destruction is mutual: pieces of huge dimensions and weight are not unfrequently piled upon the top, to the height of twenty or thirty feet, whilst doubtless a proportionate quantity is depressed beneath. The view of these stupendous effects, in safety, exhibits a picture sublimely grand; but where there is danger of being overwhelmed, terror and dismay must be the predominant feelings. The whale-fishers at all times require unremitting vigilance to secure their safety, but scarcely in any situation so much, as when navigating amidst those fields: in foggy weather, they are particularly dangerous, as their motions cannot then be distinctly observed. It may easily be imagined, that the strongest ship can no more withstand the shock of two fields, than a sheet of paper can stop a musket-ball. Numbers of vessels, since the establishment of the fishery, have been thus destroyed; some have been thrown upon the ice, some have had their hulls completely torn open, and others have been buried beneath the heaped fragments of the ice.

ICEBERGS.--"The term _icebergs_ has commonly been applied to those immense bodies of ice situated on the land, 'filling the valleys between the high mountains,' and generally exhibiting a square perpendicular towards the sea. They recede backward inland to an extent never explored. Martin, Crantz, Phipps, and others, have described those wonders of nature, and all agree as to their manner of formation, in the congelation of the sleet and rains of summer, and of the accumulated snow, partly dissolved by the summer sun, which, on its decline, freezes to a transparent ice. They are as permanent as the rocks on which they rest: for although large portions may be frequently separated, yet the annual growth replaces the loss, and probably on the whole, produces a perpetual increase. I have seen those styled the _Seven Icebergs_, situated in the valleys of the north-west coast of Spitzbergen; their perpendicular front maybe about 300 feet in height, the green colour, and glistening surface of which, form a pleasing variety in prospect, with the magnificence of the encompassing snow-clad mountains, which, as they recede from the eye, seem to rise 'crag above crag,' in endless perspective.

"Large pieces may be separated from those icebergs in the summer season, when they are particularly fragile, by their ponderous overhanging masses overcoming the force of cohesion; or otherwise, by the powerful expansion of the water, filling any excavation or deep-seated cavity, when its dimensions are enlarged by freezing, thereby exerting a tremendous force, and bursting the whole asunder.

"Pieces thus or otherwise detached, are hurled into the sea with a dreadful crash: if they are received into deep water, they are liable to be drifted off the land, and, under the form of ice-islands, or ice-mountains, they likewise still retain their parent name of icebergs. I much question, however, if all the floating bergs seen in the seas west of Old Greenland, thus derive their origin, their number being so great, and their dimensions so vast."

MAGNITUDE OF ICEBERGS.--"If all the floating islands of ice thus proceed from disruptions of the icebergs generated on the land, how is it that so few are met with in Greenland, and those comparatively so diminutive, whilst Baffin's Bay affords them so plentifully, and of such amazing size? The largest I ever saw in Greenland, was about 1000 yards in circumference, nearly square, of a regular flat surface, twenty feet above the level of the sea; and as it was composed of the most dense kind of ice, it must have been 150 or 160 feet in thickness, and in weight about 2,000,000 of tons. But masses have been repeatedly seen in Davis' Straits, nearly two miles in length, and one-third as broad, whose rugged mountain summits were reared with various spires to the height of more than 100 feet, whilst their base must have reached to the depth of 150 yards beneath the surface of the sea. Others, again, have been observed, possessing an even surface of five or six square miles in area, elevated thirty yards above the sea, and fairly run aground in water of 90 or 100 fathoms in depth; the weight of which must have been upwards of two thousand millions of tons."

THE GLACIERS.--Those vast piles of eternal ice with which it has pleased the Author of nature to crown the immense chasms between the summits of the Alps, are objects more grand, sublime, and terrific, than any others of the phenomena of nature which remain stationary. These tremendous spires and towers, of uncertain and brittle fabric, seem to forbid the attempts of travellers to explore the depth between them, or even the rocks and rich valleys around them; but courage and perseverance have been attended with commensurate success, and we are enabled by their labours to learn previously concealed wonders, and to reason upon the causes which produced them.

Mr. Bourrit, precentor of the cathedral church at Geneva, mentions, in the relation of his journey to the glaciers of Savoy, the enterprise of Messrs. Windham and Pocock, in 1741, who, inspired by the artless relations of the peasants, descriptive of the sublimity of their country, when they descended with honey and crystals for sale, determined to visit those frightful regions of ice which had received the appellation of _Les Montagnes Maudites_; or the Accursed Mountains. The gentlemen alluded to took every precaution for securing their safety; but entertaining many well-grounded fears, naturally arising from a first attempt, they did not reach any considerable distance beyond the edge of the ice in the valley of Montanvert, yet their example operated so powerfully as to induce several others to imitate them, and proceed to the boundary whence they returned: at length M. de Saussure had the resolution and courage to penetrate across the ice to the very extremities of the valleys; Mr. Coxe followed soon after: and from their publications every possible information may be obtained, of which the nature of the subject will admit.

The most astonishing phenomenon attending the glaciers, is their near approach to the usual vegetation of summer; for what can be more wonderful than to view wheat ready for the sickle, parched brown by the rays of the sun, and separated only by the intervention of a few feet, from the chilling influence of an endless bed of ice, which seems impenetrable to its rays.

Many systems and theories have been ingeniously suggested, to ascertain the first cause of the glaciers, their maintenance, and whether they increase or diminish in extent; of which, Gruner's, improved and illustrated with actual observations by M. de Saussure, is the most rational and probable, and Mr. Coxe implicitly adopts it. Admitting that a person could be raised sufficiently above the summits of the Alps of Switzerland, Savoy, and Dauphiny, to comprehend the whole at one view, he would observe a vast chaos of mountains and valleys, with several parallel chains, the highest of which are situated in the centre, and the remainder gradually lessening as they retire from it. The central chain he would find to be surmounted by stupendous fragments of rock, towering in rude masses, which bear vast accumulations of snow and ice, where they are not decidedly perpendicular, or do not overhang their bases: on each side he would see the intervening chasms and gulfs, filled with ice, descending thence even into the verdant valleys, rich with foliage and cultivation. The inferior ranges of mountains, next the central, present the same appearance in a less degree; but in those more remote, the snow and ice are confined to the most elevated points; and others, still farther removed, are covered with grass and plants, which, in their turn, give place to such hills and valleys as are common in any part of the world.