4 Ascent of Mt. Etna, February, 1 S32. 



One proof was derived from observation of the times and distances 

 of the successive explosions from the sides of Etna during an erup- 

 tion. Those nearer the top precede those farther down, by a space 

 of time proportioned to the distances of the discharges from the 

 summit. He argued to the same conclusion from the heights of 

 the jets. The lower down they are, the greater the force of projec- 

 tion, according to the laws of gravity respecting a fluid descending 

 an inclined plane. Taking some of the charts and pamphlets we 

 bid adieu to Sign. Gemmellaro. 



We found our room cold and our beds hard, but soon forgot every 

 thing in sleep. Owing to some cause I awoke during the night and 

 heard a sound like a faint but deep murmur, as if from the struggling 

 elements beneath. Whether real or imaginary, it unfortunately suffi- 

 ced to dispel slumber, and to excite in my mind a feverish and ill- 

 timed activity. Every image that memory had preserved of the old 

 mythology, was passed in distinct review. The giants groaning and 

 heaving under their uncomfortable loads, and the din of Vulcan and 

 his huge one-eyed smiths, seemed no more fabulous than this vast 

 smoking furnace, and the now audible roar of its fires : well might 

 the Trojans tremble as they neared even the shore. Fancy then 

 followed Empedocles into the crater, down which he had leapt 

 that men might believe him a god translated to heaven ; but his 

 brazen sandal, either vomited up by the mountain, or tossed out 

 by some malicious Cyclops in scorn of its human workmanship, re- 

 vealed the fate of the philosopher to mankind and changed their 

 worship into laughter. The phantoms of antiquity finally vanished 

 before the images of real life; I saw priestly processions alternating 

 with motley troops of masquers, and mummery and antics absorbing 

 by turns the pleasure-loving populace of Sicily : now they were on 

 their knees in silent adoration of the passing host, now throwing their 

 caps in air, and shouting on one leg, as if convulsed with delight at 

 some inconceivable oddity of a harlequin out-monkeying Jacko. The 

 rumbling of the mountain itself seemed drowned by the sound of 

 the song and the dance, from the thousand villages which hang on the 

 skirts of Mongibello.* 



At length I sprung from my bed impatient of the ceaseless train of 

 associations, which at any other time I should have enjoyed but now 



Among the Sicilians, the popular name for Etna. 



