until motion finally ceases altogether, and the
fresh matter which comes forth finds it a barrier.

The most magnificent spectacle of all, however,
during this eruption, was when the fiery torrent
reached a forest composed chiefly of some
hundred thousand oak, pine, and chesnut trees.
Gradually, the lava ceased to flow, and the
general opinion was that the eruption was at
an end, and there was no further cause of
fear, when, all of a sudden, it burst forth
with greater violence than ever; but from an
opening on the western slope of the mountain;
and speedily spread over a district which had
till that time escaped with trifling damage,
presenting the appearance of a lake of fire.
Long after this second eruption was at an end,
and the surface had hardened, an opening here
and there enabled one to see that the mass
below it was still in a molten condition, and in
some places the surface might be seen rising
and falling like the sea when there is a gentle
swell. This was probably caused by the gases
generated below being unable to find a vent.

But though the serious eruption was at an
end, the mountain was far from quiet; a
prolonged rumbling sound was followed by an
explosion, which threw large quantities of stones
and ashes in the air, mingled with dense masses of
vapour, which, on being liberated, expanded into
enormous volumes, and floated away into the
atmosphere. The din and uproar could hardly have
been equalled if the Cyclops of old had been still
hard at work there with thousands of Nasmyth's
steam hammers. The extent of the atmosphere
is such that we can hardly admit that it can
be affected by any quantity of gas that can be
poured into it from any source; yet it does not
seem improbable that the incalculable quantity
of poisonous gases which have issued from the
mountain since it commenced active operations
must have been sufficient to affect injuriously
the health of the inhabitants over a large district.

An anecdote current respecting a German who
ascended the mountain and looked into the
interior through one of the openings, will assist in
conveying the impression it produces on those
who follow his example. He was seen ascending
the mountain alone, and, after an absence of
several hours, returned; yet not a word would he
utter in reply to the questions addressed to him.
The next day he was found drowned on the edge
of the sea. According to the statement of a friend
of his, he had long meditated suicide, and it is
supposed that he had ascended the mountain
with the intention of throwing himself into the
molten lava, after the fashion of the
well-remembered man of old, whose suicide was
discovered by the mountain throwing out his
sandal, but that the German's mind was so
overpowered by the horrors of the scene he witnessed,
that he could not carry out his intention, and
descended to find a grave in a cooler and more
tranquil fluid.

The effect produced by the decomposition of
water during a volcanic eruption may be gathered
from an occurrence which took place about
twenty-five years ago. A large number of
persons had assembled to watch the descent of a
current of lava, when, all of a sudden, the end of
it was seen to swell into a huge dome. A terrific
explosion instantly ensued, which scattered an
immense quantity of burning vapour and red-hot
stones in every direction. Nearly seventy
persons were killed, and every object in the
neighbourhood levelled with the ground. The
cause was attributed to one of the residents
having omitted to let the water run out of his
tank. Ever since that time, one of the first
things a man does after he has decided on
abandoning his house, is to empty his reservoirs
of water.

We observe from the newspapers that Etna is
still fearfully and dangerously awake.

COLONEL AND MRS. CHUTNEY.

IN FIVE CHAPTERS. CHAPTER IV.

THE day but one after the events last recorded,
Sir Frederic Samperton, M.P., had prepared
himself for his morning ride, and was seated at
his new davenport, making one or two entries
in his note-book, and issuing directions to a
smooth valet who stood respectfully beside him.

Sir Frederic's chambers were not only luxuriously
furnished, but in excellent taste. The
pictures were few; busts and statuettes abounded,
and if some of the latter would have appeared
unsuitable in a lady's boudoir, their classical
grace redeemed them from being too suggestive.
There were books, and looking-glasses, and a few
pieces of rare china. On the whole, a slightly
feminine tone pervaded the apartment, which
yet contrasted strongly with the owner's
appearance.

Sir Frederic Samperton was a tall, large
man, eminently English and aristocratic, with
small hands and feet. No moustaches, but
long tawny whiskers, and keen grey eyes.
He was a healthy, well-tempered man, with
large credit as a " good fellow." He never
offended any one; never was known to have
lost anything by feelings displayed in any
particular direction. He was peculiarly alive
to beauty in every form, and a little eager in
the pursuit of a new whim. As a public man,
he adopted a business aspect and common-sense
tone; which, like most of his adaptations,
answered very well.

"This is a much more convenient davenport
than the first they sent me—there was no room
in it for anything,' he said. "This one looks
better too. Don't you think so, Bowles?"

"Much better, Sir Frederic."

"Let me know if the horses are at the door."
The valet left the room, and Samperton
continued to open and examine various drawers
with a thoughtful air. "It's very odd," he
murmured at last. "I can't find that promissory
note. Where the deuce can I have put it?"
pulling his whiskers meditatively. "What an
infernal young scamp to let me in for fifty
pounds, and I haven't met him three times.
Forgery too! Men ought not to ask these