The first picture which attracted the little girls’ attention, on their entrance into the gallery this morning, was the representation of an eruption of Mount Vesuvius. They instantly applied for information to Mr. Wilmot, which he as willingly gave them, in the following words:

“This celebrated volcano is situated a few miles east of Naples, in Italy. The first eruption on record, happened on the twenty-seventh of August, A.D. 79. It was accompanied by an earthquake, which overturned several cities. Pliny, the naturalist, being too curious in observing the effects of this violent convulsion of nature, was suffocated by the sulphureous smoke.”

“Who was Pliny?” asked Susan.

“Pliny the Elder,” replied Mr. Wilmot, “was one of the most learned of the Roman writers; and was born at Verona in Italy, A.D. 23. But a letter from his nephew to a friend, describing his character and the event, will give you a more perfect idea of both, than any other means I can adopt. This amiable and learned man first enters into an account of his uncle’s surprising application, as well as great mental powers; and after relating the nature of his employments, he proceeds to say:

“‘You will wonder how a man, so engaged as he was, could find time to compose such a number of books as he did; and some of them, too, upon abstruse subjects. But your surprise will rise still higher, when you hear that, for some time, he engaged in the profession of an advocate; that he died in the fifty-sixth year of his age; that, from the time of his quitting the bar, to his death, he was employed, partly in the execution of the highest posts, and partly in personal attendance on those emperors who honoured him with their friendship.”

“‘But he had a quick apprehension, joined to unwearied application. In summer, he always began his studies as soon as it was night; in winter, generally at one in the morning, but never later than two, and sometimes at midnight. No man ever spent less time in bed; insomuch, that, without retiring from his book, he would sometimes take a short nap, and then pursue his studies. Before day-break he used to wait upon Vespasian, who, likewise, chose these seasons to transact business. When he had finished the affairs which that emperor transmitted to his charge, he returned home again to his studies.

“‘After a short and light repast, at noon, according to the good old custom of the ancients, he would frequently, in the summer, if disengaged from business, repose himself in the sun; during which time, some author was read to him, from which he made extracts and observations; as, indeed, this was his constant method, whatever book he read; for it was a maxim of his, ‘that no book was so bad but that something might be learned from it.’

“‘When this was over, he generally went into the cold bath; and, as soon as he came out of it, generally took a slight refreshment, and then reposed himself for a little while. Thus, as if it had been a new day, he renewed his studies till supper-time; when a book was again read to him, upon which he would make some slight remarks. I remember once, his reader having pronounced a word wrong, somebody at table made him repeat it again; upon which my uncle asked his friend, if he understood it? who, acknowledging that he did: ‘Why, then,’ said he, ‘would you make him go back again? We have lost, by this interruption, above ten lines;’ covetous was this great man of time!

“‘In summer he always rose from supper by day-light, and in winter as soon as it was dark; and he observed this rule as strictly as if it had been a law of the state.

“‘Such was his manner of life amidst the noise and hurry of the town; but, in the country, his whole time was devoted to study, without intermission, excepting only when he bathed. In this exception I include no more than the time he was actually in the bath; for, while he was rubbed and wiped, he was employed in hearing some book read to him, or in dictating. In his journeys he lost no time from his studies; but his mind, at those seasons, being disengaged from all other business, applied itself wholly to that single pursuit.

“‘A secretary constantly attended him in his chariot, who, in the winter, wore a kind of warm gloves, that the sharpness of the weather might not occasion any intermission to my uncle’s studies; and for the same reason, when at Rome, he was always carried in a chair. I remember, he once reproved me for walking. ‘You might,’ said he, ‘employ those hours to more advantage;’ for he thought every hour lost, that was not given to study. By this extraordinary application he found time to compose the several treatises I have mentioned; besides one hundred and sixty volumes, which he left me by his will, consisting of a kind of common-place, written on both sides, in a very small character; so that one might fairly reckon the number considerably more. I have heard him say that, when he was comptroller of the revenue in Spain, Largius Licinius offered him 400,000 sesterces (about £.3200 of our money) for those manuscripts, and yet they were not then quite so numerous.’”

“What a remarkably industrious man he must have been!” said Ann.

“Yes,” replied Mr. Wilmot; “and although it would not be possible for the generality of men to pursue his plans, yet I think we may all learn something from his diligence, and his (may I not say) miserly care of time. But to proceed with the narration.

“‘My uncle was at this time, with the fleet under his command, at Misenum, in the gulf of Naples. On the twenty-fourth of August, at about one in the afternoon, my mother desired him to observe a cloud, which appeared of a very unusual shape and size. He had just returned from enjoying the benefit of the sun; and, after bathing in cold water, and taking a slight repast, was retired to his study: he immediately arose, and went out upon an eminence, from which he might more distinctly view the phenomenon. It was not, at this distance, discernible from what mountain the cloud issued; but it was found afterwards to proceed from Vesuvius, about six miles distant from Naples. I cannot give you a more correct, or exact description of its figure, than to represent it by that of a pine-tree; for it shot up a great height, in the form of a tall trunk, which spread at the top into a sort of branches; occasioned, I suppose, either by the force of the internal vapour, which impelled the cloud upwards, decreasing in strength as it advanced, or, that the cloud, being pressed back by its own weight, expanded itself in the manner I have mentioned: it appeared sometimes dark and spotted, and sometimes bright, as it was either more or less impregnated with earth and cinders.

“‘This uncommon appearance excited my uncle’s philosophical curiosity to take a nearer view of it. He accordingly ordered a light vessel to be prepared; and offered me the liberty, if I thought proper, to attend him. I chose rather to continue the employment in which I was engaged; for it happened that he had given me a certain writing to copy.

“‘As he was going out of the house, with his tablets in his hand, he was met by the mariners, belonging to the galleys stationed at Retina, from which they had fled in the uttermost terror; for that port being situated at the foot of Vesuvius, they had no other way than to escape by sea. They conjured him, therefore, not to proceed, and expose his life to imminent and inevitable danger. In compliance with this advice, he exchanged his original intentions; and, instead of gratifying his philosophical spirit, he resigned it to the more magnanimous principle of aiding the distressed.

“‘With this view he ordered the fleet immediately to put to sea, and went himself on board, with an intention of assisting, not only Retina, but the several other towns, which stood thick upon that beautiful coast.

“‘Hastening to the place, therefore, from which others fled with the utmost terror, he steered his direct course to the point of danger; and with so much calmness and presence of mind, as to be able to make and dictate his observations upon the appearance and progress of that dreadful scene. He was now so near the mountain, that the cinders, which grew thicker and stronger the more he advanced, fell into the ships; together with pumice-stone and black pieces of burning rock. They were, likewise, in danger of being aground by the sudden retreat of the sea; and also from the vast fragments which rolled down from the mountains, and obstructed all the shore. Here he stopped, to consider whether he should return back. On which the pilot addressing him, ‘Fortune,’ said he, ‘attends the brave: steer to Pompianus.’

“‘Pompianus was then at StabiÆ, (now called Castel È nar di Stabia, in the gulf of Naples,) separated by a gulf, which the sea, after several windings, forms upon that shore.

“‘Pompianus had already sent his baggage on board; for though he was not at the time in actual danger, yet, being within the view of it, and indeed extremely near, he was determined, if it should in the least increase, to put to sea as soon as the wind should change. It was favourable, however, for carrying my uncle to Pompianus, whom he found in the greatest consternation; and, embracing him with tenderness, he encouraged and exhorted him to keep up his spirits. The more to dissipate his fears, he ordered his servants, with an air of unconcern, to carry him to the baths; and, having bathed, he sat down to supper (with great, or at least what is equally heroic) with all the appearance of cheerfulness. In the meanwhile, the fire from Vesuvius flamed forth, from several parts of the mountain, with great violence; which the darkness of the night contributed to render still more visible and dreadful. But my uncle, in order to calm the apprehensions of his friend, assured him it was only the conflagration of the villages, which the country people had abandoned. After this he retired to rest, and, it is most certain, was so little discomposed as to fall into a deep sleep; for being corpulent, and breathing hard, the attendants in the anti-chamber actually heard him snore.

“‘The court which led to his apartment being now almost filled with stones and ashes, it would have been impossible for him, if he had continued there any longer, to have made his way out; it was thought proper, therefore, to awaken him. He got up, and joined Pompianus and the rest of the company, who had not been sufficiently unconcerned to think of going to bed. They consulted together, whether it would be most prudent to trust to the houses, which now shook from side to side, with frequent and violent concussions; or flee to the open fields, where the calcined stones and cinders, though levigated indeed, yet fell in large showers, threatening them with instant destruction. In this distress they resolved for the fields, as the less dangerous situation of the two: a resolution which, while the rest of the company were hurried into by their fears, my uncle embraced upon cool and deliberate consideration. They went out then, having pillows tied upon their heads with napkins; and this was the whole defence against the storm of stones that fell around them.

“‘It was now day every where else; but there a deeper darkness prevailed than in the blackest night; which was, however, in some degree, dissipated by torches and other lights of various kinds. They thought it expedient to go down further upon the shore, in order to observe if they might safely put out to sea; but they found the waves still run extremely high and boisterous.

“‘There my uncle, having drunk a draught or two of cold water, laid himself down upon a sail-cloth, which was spread for him; when, immediately, the flames, preceded by a strong smell of sulphur, dispersed the rest of the company, and obliged him to rise. He raised himself with the assistance of the servants, and instantly fell down dead; suffocated, I suppose, by some great and noxious vapour, having always had weak lungs, and frequently subject to a difficulty of breathing. As soon as it was light again, which was not till the third day after this melancholy accident, his body was found entire, and without any marks of violence, exactly in the same posture in which he fell, and looking more like a man asleep than dead.’”

“And what became of the younger Pliny, Sir?” asked Ann, “during this dreadful scene.”

“I will give you his narration in his own words,” answered Mr. Wilmot.

“‘My uncle having left us, I continued the employment which prevented my going with him, till it was time to bathe: after which, I went to supper, and then fell into a short and uneasy sleep. There had, during many days before, been some shocks of an earthquake, which the less alarmed us, as they are frequent in Campania; but they were so particularly violent that night, that they not only shook every thing about us, but seemed to threaten total destruction. My mother flew to my chamber, where she found me rising in order to awaken her. We went out into a small court belonging to the house, which separated the sea from the buildings.

“‘As I was at that time but eighteen years of age, I know not whether I can call my behaviour, in this perilous conjuncture, courage or rashness; but I took up Livy, and amused myself with turning over that author, and even in making extracts from him, as if I had been perfectly at my ease. While we were in that situation, a friend of my uncle’s, who was just come from Spain to pay him a visit, joined us; and observing me sitting by my mother, with a book in my hand, reproved her patience and my security: nevertheless, I still went on with my author.

“‘It was now morning, but the light was exceedingly faint and languid; the buildings all around tottered; and though we stood upon open ground, yet, as the place was narrow and confined, there was no remaining without imminent danger: we therefore resolved to leave the town. The people followed us in the utmost consternation, and (as to a mind distracted with terror, every suggestion seems more prudent than its own) pressed in great crowds about us, in our way out. Being advanced at a considerable distance from the houses, we stood still, in the midst of a most hazardous and tremendous scene. The chariots which we had ordered out, were so agitated backwards and forwards, though upon the most level ground, that we could not keep them steady, even by supporting them with large stones.

“‘The sea seemed to roll back upon itself, and to be driven from the banks by the convulsive motion of the earth: it is certain, at least, that the shore was considerably enlarged, and several sea-animals were left upon it.

“‘On the other side, a black and dreadful cloud, bursting with an igneous serpentine vapour, darted out a long train of fire, resembling flashes of lightning, but much longer. Upon this, our Spanish friend, whom I mentioned above, addressing himself to my mother and me with great warmth and earnestness, said, ‘If your brother and your uncle is safe, he earnestly wishes that you may be so too; but if he perished, it was, doubtless, his desire that you might both survive him. Why, therefore, do you delay your escape a moment?’

“‘We could never think of our own safety,’ we replied, ‘whilst we were uncertain of his.’ Upon which our friend left us, and withdrew from the danger with the utmost precipitation. Soon afterwards, the cloud seemed to descend and cover the whole ocean; as, indeed, it entirely hid the island of Caprea, (an island near Naples, now called Capri,) and the promontory of Misenum. My mother conjured me to make my escape any way, which, as I was young, I might easily effect. As for herself, she said, her age and corpulency rendered all attempts of that sort impossible: however, she would willingly meet death, if she could have the satisfaction of seeing that she was not the cause of mine. But I resolutely refused to leave her, and taking her by the hand, led her on. She complied with great reluctance, and not without many reproaches to herself, for being the occasion of retarding my flight.

“‘The ashes now began to fall upon us, though in no great quantity. I turned my head, and observed behind me a thick smoke, which came rolling after us like a torrent. I proposed, while we had yet any light, to turn out of the high road, lest she should be pressed to death by the crowd that followed us.

“‘We had scarcely stepped out of the path when darkness overspread us: not like that of a cloudy night, or when there is no moon; but of a room that is shut up, and all the lights extinct. Nothing then was to be heard but the shrieks of women, the screams of children, and the cries of men; some calling for their children, others for their husbands, others for their parents, and only distinguishing them by their voices. One lamenting his own fate, another that of his family; some wishing to die, from the very fear of dying; some lifting their hands to the gods; but the greatest part imagining that the last and eternal night was come, which was to destroy the gods and the world together. Amongst these, were some who augmented the real terrors by imaginary ones, and made the frighted multitude believe that Misenum was actually in flames.

“‘At length a glimmering light appeared, which we imagined rather the forerunner of another burst of flame, (as in fact it was,) than the return of day. However, the fire fell at a distance from us; and then again we were immersed in thick darkness, and a heavy shower of ashes rained upon us, which we were obliged every now and then to shake off, otherwise we should have been overwhelmed and buried in the heap.

“‘I might boast that, during all this scene of horror, not a sigh or expression of fear escaped from me, had not my support been founded on that miserable, though strong consolation, that all mankind were involved in the same calamity, and that I imagined that I was perishing with the world itself. At last this terrible darkness was dissipated by degrees, like a cloud or smoke; the real day returned, and even the sun appeared, though very faintly, as when an eclipse is coming on. Every object which presented itself to our eyes (which were extremely weakened) seemed changed, being covered with white ashes, as with a deep snow.

“‘We returned to Misenum, where we refreshed ourselves as well as we could, and passed our anxious night between hope and fear: though, indeed, with a much larger share of the latter; for the earth still continued to shake, while several enthusiastic persons ran wildly among the people, and making a kind of frantic sport of their own and their friends’ wretched situation. However, my mother and I, notwithstanding the danger we had passed, and that which threatened us, had no intention of leaving Misenum till we should receive some account of my uncle.’”

“How singular it was,” said Susan, “that Pliny should read an historical work, at a moment of such imminent danger. Do you call it fortitude, Sir?”

“I am something, my dear, of lord Lyttelton’s opinion, respecting this part of this really amiable man’s conduct: ‘That, when all nature seemed falling into final destruction, to be reading Livy and making extracts was an absurd affectation. To meet danger with courage is manly, but to be insensible to it is brutal stupidity; and to pretend insensibility where it cannot be supposed, is ridiculous falseness.’”

“But his conduct, in refusing to leave his mother, you will allow, was noble,” remarked Mrs. Spencer.

“Undoubtedly it was a beautiful act of filial piety; and whilst I have passed a censure on the one act mentioned, I wish it to be remembered, that no Roman ever excelled him in sincere integrity of heart and greatness of sentiment; although there was a mixture of vanity blended with his virtue, which impaired and disgraced it.”

“I think, Sir,” said Ann, “you spoke of some cities being destroyed at this time.”

“Yes, my dear, and Herculaneum was one. Like Pompeii and other cities, it was thought to be utterly destroyed, till the beginning of the eighteenth century, when it was discovered; and many of the houses were found perfectly furnished, and the furniture in good preservation.”

“Do volcanic eruptions ever occur in other countries?” asked Susan.

“The principal apertures of this kind,” replied Mr. Wilmot, “besides Vesuvius, are, Etna in Sicily; Stromboli, one of the Lipari Islands, north of Sicily; and Hecla in Iceland.

“So late as the year 1783, a volcanic eruption in Iceland surpassed any thing recorded in history. The lava spouted up to the height of two miles perpendicular, and continued thus for two months; during which time it covered a tract of three thousand six hundred square miles of ground, in some places more than one hundred feet deep; and this tremendous visitation was followed by a train of consequences, the most direful and melancholy, some of which continue to be felt to this day.

“Immense floods of red hot lava were poured down from the hills, with amazing velocity; and, spreading over the low country, burnt up men, cattle, churches, houses, and every thing they attacked in their progress. Not only was all vegetation in the immediate neighbourhood of the volcano destroyed, by the ashes, brimstone, and pumice which it emitted; but, it being thrown up to an inconceivable height in the atmosphere, they were scattered over the whole island; impregnating the air with noxious vapours, intercepting the genial rays of the sun, and empoisoning whatever could satisfy the hunger or quench the thirst, of man or beast. Even in some of the more distant districts, the quantity of ashes that fell was so great, that they were gathered up by handsful. Upwards of four hundred people were deprived instantly of a home; the fish were driven from the coasts; and the elements seemed to vie with each other, which should commit the greatest depredations: famine and pestilence stalked abroad, and cut down their victims with ruthless cruelty, while death himself was glutted with the prey. In some houses there was scarcely a sound individual left to tend the afflicted, or any who possessed sufficient strength to inter the dead.

“The most miserably emaciated tottering skeletons were seen in every quarter. When the animals that had died of disease and hunger were consumed, the wretched creatures had nothing to eat but raw hides, and old pieces of leather and ropes, which they boiled, and devoured with avidity. The horses eat the flesh off one another; and, for want of other sustenance, had recourse to turf, wood, and even excrementitious substances; while the sheep devoured each other’s wool. In a word, the accumulation of miseries originating in the volcanic eruption, was so dreadful, that, in the short space of two years, not fewer than 9336 human beings, 28,000 horses, 11,461 head of cattle, and 190,488 sheep, perished on the island.

“Such is Dr. Henderson’s account of this melancholy calamity; a visitation which was awful in its nature, and unparalleled in its horrors.”

“What a blessing it is,” said Ann, “that we live in England, where no troubles of the kind ever assail us.”

“Cherish the feeling of thankfulness, my dear girl,” said Mr. Wilmot; “for it is indeed a favoured—a privileged country. And here,” said he, turning to a full-length portrait of George the Third, “is the picture of our late venerable monarch; whose benevolent wish, that every child in his dominions might possess a Bible, and be able to read it, deserves to be transmitted from sire to son.

“The ornament of his domestic circle, his gentle and pious daughter, was taken from him; and his reason lasted only to receive her last farewell, and mingle his blessings with her dying accents.

“Let us compare the experience of this Christian king with that of Abdalrahman, one of the greatest monarchs of his line.

“Cordova, the place of his residence, displayed 600 mosques, 900 baths, and 200,000 houses; and the caliph gave laws to eighty cities of the first, and to three hundred of the second and third order: and twelve thousand villages and hamlets decorated the beautiful banks of the Guadalquiver.

“Three miles from Cordova, in honour of his favourite sultana, the third and greatest of the Abdalrahmans constructed the city, palace, and gardens of Jehrar.

“Twenty-five years, and about three millions sterling, were employed by the founder. His liberal taste invited the most skilful sculptors and architects of the age; and the buildings were sustained or adorned by twelve hundred columns of Spanish and African, of Greek and Italian marble.

“The hall of audience was encrusted with gold and pearls; and a great basin in the centre was surrounded with the curious and costly figures of birds and quadrupeds.

“In a lofty pavilion of the gardens, one of those basins and fountains, so delightful in a sultry climate, was replenished, not with water, but with the purest quicksilver.

“The seraglio of Abdalrahman, his wives, and concubines, and eunuchs, amounted to six thousand three hundred persons; and he was attended to the field by a guard of twelve thousand horse, whose belts and scimeters were studded with gold.

“Our imagination is dazzled by the splendid picture, (says Gibbon,) and whatever may be the cool dictates of reason, there are few among us who would obstinately refuse a trial of the comforts and cares of royalty. It may, therefore, be of some use to borrow the experience of the same Abdalrahman, whose magnificence has, perhaps, excited our admiration and envy, and to transcribe an authentic memorial, which was found in the closet of the deceased caliph.

“‘I have now reigned above fifty years, in victory or peace, beloved by my subjects, and dreaded by my enemies, and respected by my allies. Riches and honour, power and pleasure, have waited on my call: nor does any earthly blessing appear to have been wanting to my felicity. In this situation I have diligently numbered the days of pure and genuine happiness which have fallen to my lot: they amount to fourteen. O man! place not thy confidence in this present world.’

“I will conclude this morning’s entertainment with a few lines by the princess Amelia, whom I mentioned to you in my notice of our late excellent monarch.”