the guide then stooping carefully down, with his aid I immediately raised myself. At length we gained the long-desired point, and we were at once overwhelmed with astonishment at the wonderful and sublime prospect that presented itself, to which no power of description can do justice, or imagination paint. The point on which we stood, nearly 11,000 feet above the level of the sea, is composed of loose sulphur, which continually gave way with us, and through which we could feel the heat of the eternal fires of Etna which raged beneath. Within a few feet of us, partly in front and partly to our right, was the yawning mouth of the volcano, vomiting forth a dense cloud of sulphurous smoke; within a pace or two to our left, and extending in front and behind us, was the vast abyss of the crater, with its precipitous sides and almost fathomless bottom. Towards the east the horizon was already one mass of crimson, gold, and purple; and the queenly moon, whose friendly rays had lighted our path, was dimmed by the near approach of her more brilliant rival; and the stars, shortly before so bright and numerous, had become few and pale. Far, far below us, appeared a track of white, which I thought at first was snow, but which proved to be clouds hanging over the lofty summits of the volcanic islands of Lepari, Stromboli, &c. Still further in the distance, and again quite below us, all appeared dark and indiscernible—a perfect chaos, in which it was impossible to distinguish the earth from the sea, or the sky from either. Shout after shout, and exclamation after exclamation, burst from us as we gazed on this wonderful scene; and it was not for some time that our excitement had sufficiently calmed down to allow us to ask our guide any questions; and when we did they were not, perhaps, the most reasonable, and evidently puzzled him. What is that mass of white far below us? Which is the sea? and which is Italy, the crimson or the purple? What are those dark black specks -ships or clouds? In what direction is Malta? and in which the African coast? Having at last completely bewildered our good-natured Cyclops with these and many other questions, he advised us, as the sun would not rise for some little time, and the cold was intense, to descend and examine the crater. This we did, and were astonished at its vast depth and the awful abyss it presented. In form it is an amphitheatre, nearly four miles (I believe) in circumference, and its shelving sides are formed of hot sulphur, from many places of which issue sulphurous smoke. Afraid of losing the sunrise, we rushed up to our lofty point. That grand pinnacle! what other mountain in Europe, perhaps in the world, can be compared to it? Consider, gentle reader, that it is a single insulated point, covering an eternal and raging fire, which has been the terror and wonder of all ages. No other mountain rising near vies with it in height or grandeur, as is the case with Mont Blanc and other mountains: but Etna's hoary head, raised high above the clouds and impurities of the earth, towering into the heavens, stands alone in its grandeur, and proudly surveys, as a monarch of a vast domain, the lovely shores of the bright and sunny Mediterranean, dotted with innumerable fair isles. From what other point, too, do such classic scenes present themselves ?-Sicily, the site of so many of the fables of mythology; Sicily, the favoured land of Ceres, whose daughter Proserpine was carried off by Pluto, whilst delighting in the "flowery meadows and limpid streams which beautified the plains of Enna;" Sicily, the scene of the loves of Acis and Galatea and of the fables of the nymphs Thalia, Cyane, and Arethusa; Sicily,

sung of by Homer, who, in his "Odyssey," lays the site of the cave of Polyphemus, and of the adventures of Ulysses with the Giant, in it; sung of also by Virgil, who lands his hero at the foot of Etna, and whose beautiful description of the mountain in the third Æneid must be fresh in the recollection of all!-lay before us. Beneath this point, too, was the tomb of the giants, when thrown under the mountain for conspiring against the gods; the throes and convulsions of the mountain being considered by the ancients to be caused by their struggles to release themselves. Here on Etna, too, were placed the workshops of Vulcan, the swarthy husband of Venus, and the dwellings of his workmen, the Cyclops, the fabricators of Jove's thunder-bolts; and here, too, on this lofty point, took refuge Deucalion and Pyrrha, when the earth was overwhelmed with the classic deluge. Crouching down on the hot sulphur, we gazed in silent contemplation on the changing hues of the sky, and the sublime scene around us. The mass of crimson, gold, and purple towards the east, had now become so brilliant and clear, that it appeared like a lake of liquid fire; and the little black specks of clouds that now and then appeared in the atmosphere, as vessels floating in it.

When we had almost become speechless from the cold, a hint from the guide, who seemed as much excited with the scene as ourselves, announced that the sun was visible. At first, but a deep crimson semicircular mass was seen; but in another minute the whole orb, radiant in glory, arose, putting to shame the modest light of the moon and the numerous stars, then tinging with its golden rays the sulphurous smoke from the volcano, which reflected a variety of colours, and then lighting up the spot on which we stood. Still all below us was one dark chaos; but by degrees, as Sol proceeded in his course, the chaos that reigned below was dispelled, and the earth and sea seemed recreated anew. Now could be defined the distant mountains of Calabria; at their base the Mediterranean, still of a deep purple hue, in which floated the numerous volcanic isles that surround Sicily. Proceeding still higher in its course, the mass of clouds that hung over the mountains of the Lepari were brilliantly illuminated and began to disperse, and the dark purple hue of the sea was changed to a deep blue, and Sicily and the fertile base of Old Etna stood smiling out to view. That which before the rising of the sun was dark, desolate, and confused, now stood revealed to sight in the bright sunshine, full of life and animation. No wonder that in the East there were so many nations worshippers of the sun. What other object in nature is more worthy of worship, or is more likely to be worshipped by a savage, ignorant of the Supreme Being, than that fiery orb,-which he feels warns himself, and sees that it fructifies the earth? Surely, there is something more rational in such a worship, and more to be admired, than the worship of a molten image, or decorated doll! But to return to my narrative: not the least beautiful of the sublime scene I have attempted to describe, was the shadow of old Etna, clearly defined in the air of a dark, grayish blue; and Sicily appearing as a map laid out at our feet; on which we could trace the course of the various rivers, and ranges of mountains, that intersect it. We were unable, however, to distinguish Malta, or the African coast. The intense cold and high wind now forced us to descend, my hands and feet being completely benumbed, and my friends, notwithstanding their having huddled together with the guide, wrapped in a large Sicilian cloak, nearly as bad. Some idea of the cold may be

imagined when it is remembered that we were several hundred feet above eternal snow, which here seems to wage war with the fiery regions of the crater. As we passed the mouth of the volcano we crouched down, and seizing the opportunity when a gust of wind blew away the smoke, leant over, and looked into the bottomless, awful abyss, full of a dense cloud of sulphurous smoke, which, as it waved to and fro, revealed streaks of light far down in the bowels of the mountain; and I shuddered when I thought of the narrow escape my friend had from walking into this awful gulph. It was here that Empedocles fell in, or, as it is more generally supposed, threw himself in, in the hopes that it might be thought that he had been taken up to heaven by the gods, and be then, of course, worshipped as one; but the volcano threw up his shoes, which, being found, showed that he had either fallen or thrown himself in. Here, too, we saw that the crust on which we rested was not above a few inches in thickness. The fumes, however, quickly obliged us to withdraw. When we came to the part we had ascended, I could hardly believe we had climbed up it, so precipitous was it; but the guide convinced me by showing me the marks of my hobnailed shoes in the sulphur, into which we buried our hands to restore circulation, but the heat was so great that we soon withdrew them tingling with pain. Our guide here detached large masses of hardened sulphur, whose course we watched as they plunged down the side of the mountain, detaching in their course other pieces, which following the same course, raised the loose sulphur and ashes, so that we could trace the track they had taken long after they were lost to view. Arrived at the Casa Inglesi, we seized upon the remains of our provisions, and in a little time, with the assistance of guide and muleteer, did not leave a bone unpicked, or a bottle that was not emptied of its contents. Refreshed with our breakfast, we examined the form and appearance of the mountain around the base of the cone. The cone, which seems to rise out of the crater, has on more than one occasion fallen in, but has always again been reproduced. The soil, if soil it can be termed, immediately around the base is formed of scoriæ and ashes. Immense masses of lava and rock, which have been thrown up by the volcano, lay immediately under the cone, close to a large track of snow. But there were few, if any, appearances of eruptions of lava, which have generally burst out lower down; sometimes below the Bosco, from the various cones that have been formed. The views from several of the points round here were very fine, particularly from a rather elevated one, a short distance in front of the Casa, from which I could look completely down into Sicily; and, although the prospect could not be compared for grandeur with that obtained from the summit of the cone, yet it was, perhaps, more pleasing. From here I could distinguish the different regions into which the mountain is divided; the immense number of picturesque volcanoes, so diversified in shape and appearance, that cover Etna; and the many small villages that are situate about the fertile base. Here I could trace the distant coast of Calabria, and the nearer one of Sicily, on which could be distinguished the towns of Catania, Agosta, and Syracuse. Again, looking inland, numerous small towns and villages dotted the mountainous country, and all appeared fertile and smiling. I was particularly struck with the circle of mountains that seemed to surround Etna, and the volcanic look that the whole country presented. Not far distant from the Casa we passed some ruins,

which our guide said were those of an ancient temple, but which I fancy were the remains of the Torre del Filosofo, where Empedocles is said to have lived—a fit spot for a philosopher to dwell in. Having now satisfied our curiosity, we commenced the descent, passing on our way the skeleton of a horse that had died three years ago, and was as complete as if it had been dissected by an anatomist. A short distance further our guide stopped us, and, asking for our handkerchiefs, bound our eyes, and then led us, one by one, to a point a few steps from us; when suddenly taking off the handkerchief, a curious and romantic view presented itself. Below us was a vast, desolate valley of lava, partly surrounded by an amphitheatre of mountains; from out this valley, called the "Val del Bore," rose several cones, now mostly covered with vegetation, although from which the lava that filled the valley must formerly have flowed; directly before us, the valley opened out; and beyond was the fertile land that spreads round the base, and in the distance the bright sunny Mediterranean, dotted here and there with the white sails of the picturesque-looking coasting craft. Cyclops seemed highly delighted at our expressions of surprise at this beautiful view. Not liking to trust ourselves on our broken-down horses whilst descending the rugged declivities, we did not remount till we had nearly arrived at the Bosco. Passing the spot where my American friend's horse had fallen with him, we observed the skin from the poor brute's knees sticking on the sharp lava. At the Bosco we stopped a few minutes to take off our extra clothing, which was now oppressively warm, and to take a last lingering look at the romantic scenery; and then made all the haste our tired beasts allowed us to Nicolosi, where we arrived about half-past twelve, and where we were agreeably surprised to find in the little inn plenty of cold water and towels ready for us, and delicious figs and wine.

Having refreshed ourselves, we again called on Signor Gemmelaro, who seemed much pleased when we told him that we considered his plan of making the ascent much the best. He kindly showed us his collection of the various specimens of the lava, sulphur, and other natural productions of the mountain, and explained some parts and peculiarities of it that I had not previously understood. Bidding adieu to, and thanking the worthy signor for his attention, we remounted our horses, when our little friends and fellow-countrywomen made their appearance, and seemed much surprised to see Mr. O'Flanagan (so my friend had called himself) with us, for they said they thought he was to throw himself into the crater. As we were leaving Nicolosi, we met a carriage containing my friends the Austrians, fully armed with pistols in their belts and swords by their sides. After a few minutes' conversation, during which my companions had chartered the carriage to take us back to Catania, not fancying a three-and-a-half hours' ride on tired horses in the broiling sun, I wished my Austrian friends good bye, with mutual expressions of wonder as to what part of the world we should next meet in ; and then again started, and reached Catania about four o'clock (where the eversmiling Placido, in apparent ecstacies at our return, was ready to receive us), rather fagged, but still delighted with our expedition, and the wonders and glories we had seen, which no language can adequately describe, and only a Turner paint. The next morning at six, Mr. O'Flanagan and myself were en route to Syracuse, having parted with regret from our gentlemanlike and agreeable companion, who was going to Palermo.

MEMOIRS OF PRINCE RUPERT.*

THE cause of the Cavaliers, Mr. Eliot Warburton justly remarks, was once the cause of half the men of England. And truly it was fortunate for us that, while that cause was unsuccessful, it still was not altogether lost, for, "shorn, by the Parliament's keen sword, of the despotic and false principle that disgraced it, its nobler and better elements survived, imparting firmer strength and a loftier tone to our constitution." While the Cavalier saw much that he had been taught to reverence struck down, buried, and put away for ever, in the grave of the Stuarts, the Roundhead beheld his glorious visions of liberty eventuating in fierce anarchy and final despotism, from which he was content to seek refuge even in the Restoration.

Prince Rupert was the chief, the leader, and the life of the Cavaliers : his character forms the best type of a party zealous for monarchy, but among whom, to use the words of Sir James Mackintosh, were many who had sturdy English hearts, which would never have endured real despotism. Yet there are few personages in history at the same time so notorious and so little known; for his true memory lies hidden under the calumnious cloud of Puritan hatred and Royalist envy and disparagement. "He was bravest ainong the brave; honest among knaves; reproached as pure by profligates; philosophical among triflers; modest among boasters; generous in his lifetime, and poor at the period of his death."

Prince Rupert had English blood in his veins, for he was the third son of the Elector Palatine and the Princess Elizabeth of England. The misfortunes of his family led to his being brought up at the university of Leyden; but as he infinitely preferred amusement or military exercises to study, while still a mere boy he followed "war's mimic game," as far as hawk and hound could gratify his passion; and he was permitted to share its stern realities at the siege of Rhynberg. Prince Rupert, however, made his first real campaign in 1635, as volunteer in the life-guard of the Prince of Orange, rejecting all distinction of his rank, discharging all the duties and sharing all the hardships of the private soldier. This was an inglorious campaign as to result, but it was signalised by many individual acts of chivalry. At the end of the same year the prince visited the English court with his brother, the titular elector palatine; and they were so well received by the king, their uncle, that the former forgot past grievances, and imbibed so great a love for his mother's country, that he henceforth looked upon it as his own, with an undivided sense of patriotism. From this country he again repaired to the Prince of Orange, at that time besieging the strong town of Breda. Monk, Astley, Goring, and many others of after-note in the civil wars, were also there. The Prince of Orange having resolved to attack a horn-work which commanded the town and its approaches, Monk, who served as lieutenant to Goring, was to lead the attack, which was expected to be a desperate service.

For this reason, and for his mother's sake, the Prince of Orange appointed Rupert to attend him, in order to keep him from temptation. The prince, how

Memoirs of Prince Rupert and the Cavaliers; including their_Private Correspondence: now first published from the original Manuscripts. By Eliot Warburton. 3 vols. Richard Bentley.