VOLCANIC eruptions in Iceland have presented some remarkable features. There are volcanoes that are much higher than any in this country; but, in the amount of lava thrown out at one time, no eruption on record ever equaled that of Skaptar Jokull in 1783. A notice of this may not be considered out of place. In May, about a month before this eruption, a volcano rose up from the bottom of the sea, over seventy miles from land, to the southwest of Cape Reykianes, and more than a hundred and fifty miles from Skaptar Jokull. This was one of the most remarkable submarine eruptions ever recorded. It formed a large island, and ejected vast quantities of pumice, a light, volcanic substance that floated on the surface of the water. It covered the sea for more than a hundred and fifty miles, and in such immense quantities that ships were detained in their progress while sailing along the coast. The sea-birds paused and screamed in their wheeling flight, and the more adventurous took a ride on a new volcanic raft. His Danish Majesty, on hearing of a creation of new territory near his ancient possession of Iceland, sent a ship with orders for its immediate annexation. The commander took formal possession of it in the name of the king. But the end was not yet. The flag of Denmark had not waved above it for a twelve-month, before it sunk back into the ocean and disappeared forever. Soon after this eruption in the sea—from the first to the eighth of June—violent earthquakes were experienced in the vicinity of Skaptar Jokull, and clouds of smoke obscured the sun for some days. It was often so dark in the middle of the day, that a sheet of white paper could not be seen when held up before the eyes. An immense shower of ashes, sand, and sulphur filled the air, and completely covered the land. It poisoned the vegetation, destroying every green thing where it fell. Fortunately the wind carried it to the south, and it soon reached the ocean. Incredible as it may seem, this shower of ashes and sulphur was borne over the Northern Sea to the Faroe Isles, Shetland and Orkney, entirely over Great Britain, across to Holland, and far on to the continent of Europe, nearly two thousand miles from the place where it started. Around the mountain, for many miles, darting flames and lightning filled the air, and the sulphur flashed and burned far up into the heavens. The next effect produced, was the heat of the volcano melting the ice that had shrouded it for centuries; and this caused such a deluge, that the rivers, particularly the SkaptÁ, overflowed their banks, and submerged, washed up, and even carried away farms. On the 10th of June, ten days after the first symptoms of an eruption appeared, the torrent of lava burst forth, and poured down the side of the mountain. This followed so quickly after the flood of water, that in less than twenty-four hours the river was entirely dried up, and people walked across its bed, where, for years, it had only been passable in boats. While the fire was contending with the water, a terrible and deafening, roaring sound was heard, and immense quantities of steam filled the air. The fiery torrent poured down the bed of the river, often from 400 to 600 feet deep, and over two hundred in breadth. Lightning flashed through the heavens, thunder and concussions of the earth were constantly heard and felt, and the volcano kept up a continued and terrible roaring. In its course down the bed of the river, the lava came to an immense chasm or pit, into which for many hours it poured with a deafening noise. The stream of lava flowed first south, then east, destroying farms, houses, and churches, and burning up the thickets of wood near KirkubÆr. Often great chasms in the earth would get filled with the melted lava, and then, as it cooled on top, the heat below would cause it to explode, and blow large masses of it high in the air. For three months the lava continued to flow, but it was not until the next February that the mountain ceased throwing out ashes, sand, flames, and hot stones. The effects of this eruption were more terrible than any thing of the kind that ever happened in Iceland. The showers of ashes, sand, and sulphur, completely destroyed every green thing for a long distance. Another most singular effect of this eruption, extended to the ocean. The fish that had always frequented the coast, were entirely driven away, and never returned. A terrible famine ensued. Within two years, over 190,000 sheep, 28,000 horses, and 11,000 cattle, died of starvation. About 10,000 inhabitants—one-fifth of the entire population of the island—perished from want and exposure. The amount of lava ejected from this volcano was probably greater than that of any eruption of the same duration, ever recorded. It covered a tract of country 500 square miles in extent; and had it lain of equal thickness over the entire surface, would have been over 300 feet deep. The lava would have filled the channels of fifty rivers as large as the Hudson from Albany to New York.

It is said that the personal appearance of a certain quadruped does not give an unfailing indication of the distance he can jump. This can scarcely be true of Skaptar Jokull. If size is an indication of power, the vast magnitude of this mountain would seem to show that its eruptions would be terrible. It is over one hundred miles in diameter at the base, and more than three hundred and thirty in circumference. The most of it is wrapped in a pall of eternal snow, and centuries sometimes elapse without an eruption. Inaccessible, except in some places around the edges, it appears from different points of view like several distinct mountains; and in different parts it goes by different names. On the west, it is known as Skaptar Jokull; and on this side the great eruption occurred. On the south, it is called OrÆfa Jokull; and at this point it is the highest mountain in Iceland, being over seven thousand feet above the level of the sea. Its vast central surface, and all throughout its northern boundary, is known as Vatna Jokull or Klofa Jokull, and is supposed to contain in its hollows large pools of standing water. This particular account I had given me in a conversation with Herre Biarni Gunnlaugson, the indefatigable Icelandic geographer, who traveled over every part of Iceland for a period of twelve years. During this time, he saw the entire country, and gathered the information and executed the drawings for his most elaborate and valuable map of the island. I can lay claim to some personal acquaintance with Skaptar Jokull. Standing on the summit of Hekla, I could look directly over nearly the entire surface of the mountain. It does not rise from all sides to one peak in the center, like Ætna, Stromboli, Hekla, and Vesuvius; but to the eye it presents the appearance of one vast, glittering plain of snow. The few travelers who have ascended the jokulls of Iceland, have described them as presenting immense cracks in the snow and ice; making their ascent more dangerous, in proportion to their height, than probably any other mountains in the world. The enormous bulk of Skaptar Jokull may be imagined from one comparison. Were it as steep and high in proportion to its breadth of base, as the Peak of Teneriffe, its perpendicular height would be more than ten miles above the level of the sea. Next to this mountain and Hekla, the most noted in Iceland are the Eyjafjalla and Tindfjalla Jokulls, in the south, and SnÆfell Jokull in the west.

As an instance of the effects of volcanic eruptions, and also of the inaccuracy of geographers respecting Iceland, one fact may be mentioned. On nearly every English or American map where Iceland is represented, there will be noticed a large lake called the “Fiske Vatn,” or Fish Lake. There is not such a lake in existence, nor has not been for many years. There was such a lake, long ago—I have not the date, but think it was nearly a hundred years since; and a volcano rose up from the bottom, filled its entire bed, and literally drank it up at a draught! Now there is no vestige of a lake in the vicinity; but there is a mountain, and I saw it. It lies between Hekla and Skaptar Jokull, and goes by the name of FISKIVATNAVEGR, or “Fish-lake-mountain.” Nature works by general laws, but this particular sample of its work seems to us rather singular. Now, this is a geographical and historical fact, and poetry can be quoted to prove things that are quite as strange. Festus, in describing his tour in “giant-land,” related some of the customs of the inhabitants, and told how they lived.

Now, either of these can be taken to prove the other. The poetry is consistent, for it agrees, in all essential particulars, with the natural phenomena in this case.

Mount Hekla has a greater celebrity than any other mountain in Iceland, owing to the frequency of its eruptions. All of these, for eight hundred and fifty years, are said to be recorded, and amount to twenty-four in number. They have averaged about three in a century; and, though occurring at irregular intervals, at no time has more than seventy-seven years elapsed from one eruption to another. The following are the periods of

According to the Icelandic records, the surface of the land in the vicinity of Mount Hekla has been entirely changed by the eruptions. Formerly, there were beautiful farms on every side, and the country was thickly settled close up to the base of the mountain. The successive eruptions or inundations of lava have covered the land for many miles around, with a charred and blackened mass.

The Icelanders are much more devoted to history and poetry than to exact science; and on this account the various eruptions of their volcanoes, and other remarkable natural phenomena, have received much less attention, and been recorded with far less accuracy and minuteness, than historical events. Owing to this, we have not as many records of their volcanoes, spouting springs, and submarine eruptions, as would be desirable. Had we a more extended series of facts, much that now seems irregular and mysterious, could be reduced to system.