his place. Against such a continuance of ill health, with so little hopes of recovery as could be entertained for a long time past, hardly any mind could be expected to remain in full possession of activity and vigour. This is the more difficult, as the valuable medicine which alone in such cases can assuage pain, contributes itself at length to weaken the mind, and to destroy its energy. The combat which Mr. Robison had maintained against these complicated evils, had indeed been wonderfully vigorous and successful, and the last of his works is quite worthy of his days of most perfect health and enjoyment.

The body could not resist so well as the mind. In the end of January 1805, he was suddenly seized with a severe illness, which put an end to his life in the course of 48 hours. There was a general disturbance of the system, which, without having the character of any defined disease, exhibited those symptoms of universal disorder which denote a breaking up of the constitution, and never fail to terminate fatally.

On reviewing the whole of his character, and the circumstances of his life, it is impossible not to see in him a man of extraordinary powers, who had enjoyed great opportunities for improvement, and had never failed to turn them to the best account. He possessed many accomplishments rarely to be met with in a scholar, or a man of science. He had great skill and taste in music, and was a performer on several instruments. He was an excellent draughtsman, and could make his pencil a valuable instrument either of record or invention. When a young man, he was gay, convivial, and facetious, and his vers de société flowed, I have been told, easily and with great effect. His appearance and manner were in a high degree favourable and imposing; his figure handsome, and his face expressive of talent, thought, gentleness, and good temper. When I had first the pleasure to become acquainted with him, the youthful turn of his countenance and manners was beginning to give place to the grave and serious cast, which he early assumed; and cer tainly I have never met with any one whose appearance and conversation were more impressive than his were at that period.

Indeed his powers of conversation were very extraordinary, and when exerted, never failed of producing a great effect. An extensive and accurate information of particular facts, and a facility of combining them into general and original views, were united in a degree of which I am persuaded there have been few examples. Accordingly, he would go over the most difficult subjects, and bring out the most profound remarks, with an ease and readiness which was quite singular. The depth of his observations seemed to cost him nothing; and when he said any thing particularly striking, you never could discover any appearance of the self-satisfaction so common on such occasions. He was disposed to pass quite readily from one subject to another; the transition was a matter of course, and he had perfectly, and apparently without seeking after it, that light and easy turn of conversation, even on scientific and profound

subjects, in which we of this island are charged by our neighbours with being so extremely deficient.

The same facility, and the same general tone, was to be seen in his lectures and his writings. He composed with singular facility and correctness, but was sometimes, when he had leisure to be so, very fastidious about his own compositions.

In the intercourse of life, he was benevolent, disinterested, and friendly, and of sincere and unaffected piety. In his interpretation of the conduct of others, he was fair and liberal, while his mind retained its natural tone, and had not yielded to the alarms of the French Revolution, and to the bias which it produced.

His range in science was most extensive; he was familiar with the whole circle of the accurate sciences, and there was no part of them on which, if you heard him speak or lecture, you would not have pronounced it to be his fort, or a subject which he had studied with more than ordinary attention. Indeed, the rapidity with which his understanding went to work, and the extent of ground he seemed to have got over, while others were only preparing to enter on it, were the great features of his intellectual character. In these he has rarely been exceeded. With such an assemblage of talents, with a mind so happily formed for science, one might have expected to find in his writings more of original investigation, more works of discovery and invention. I must remark, however, that from the turn his speculations and compositions took, or rather received from circumstances, we are apt to overlook what is new and original in a great part of them. An article in a dictionary of science must contain a system, and what is new becomes of course so mixed up with the old and the known, that it is not easily distinguished. Many of Mr. Robison's articles in the Encyclopædia Britannica are full of new and original views, which will only strike those who study them particularly, and have studied them in other books. In Seamanship, for example, there are many such remarks; the fruit of that knowledge of principle which he combined with so much experience and observation. Carpentry, Roof, and many more, afford examples of the same kind. The publication now under the management of Dr. Brewster, will place his scientific character higher than it has ever been with any but those who were personally acquainted with him. With them, nothing can add to the esteem which they felt for his talents and worth, or to the respect in which they now hold his memory.

ARTICLE II.

Account of an Accident which happened in a Coal-Mine at Liege in 1812. By Thomas Thomson, M.D. F.R.S.

In the preceding volumes of the Annals of Philosophy a variety of dismal accidents has been detailed, which occurred in the coal

mines of the county of Durham. I shall here relate an accident similar to one of those which occurred four years ago at Liege, because it was attended with circumstances which deserve to be known. The account was published in the French newspapers at the time when it happened; but the following statement is taken from the Voyage dans la Belgique, by M. Paquet-Syphorien, published at Paris in 1813, who had the details from M. Goffin himself.

Just without the gate of the city of Liege, towards Brussels, several coal-mines are wrought. There are three perpendicular shafts at no great distance from each other, called Bure* Triquenotte, Bure de Beaujonc, and Bure Mamonster. The first two communicate with each other below ground; but there was no communication between the last two. In these mines, which are about 120 fathoms deep, the water is directed to a particular part of the mine, where it is confined by a wooden frame, called serrement, from which it is raised to the surface by means of forcing pumps.

On the 28th of February, 1812, about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, the mine connected with the shaft Beaujonc was suddenly inundated by the rupture of the serrement of the shaft Triquenotte, situated at the distance of 459 feet from the mine Beaujonc. At that time 127 workmen were in the mine, 35 of whom made their escape at the moment when the inundation took place. The overseer, M. Goffin, with his son, was at the bottom of the shaft, and might have easily made his escape; but he formed the resolution of saving his miners, or of perishing with them.

He gave orders to Nicholas Bertrand, Mathieu Labeye, and Clavier, three miners who were sharers in his generous resolution, to go and warn their companions, and to direct them to the part of the mine nearest the shaft Mamonster. Meanwhile he assisted all the workmen who had collected at the foot of the shaft to make their escape. The danger became at last so great that these men did not hesitate to tear the boys by force from the ropes of the basket, to which they had fixed themselves, and to take their places. But M. Goffin took up the poor boys, and carried them along with him. By the time that 35 of the miners had made their escape, the waters had risen to such a height as to cut off all communication with the shaft.

M. Goffin collected all the miners in that part of the mine which he considered as nearest to the shaft Mamonster, and, assisted by some of the stoutest of them, he undertook to open a passage into one of the galleries connected with that shaft. They were in possession of a few candles; but had no food. Though only two workmen could be employed at a time, they had already penetrated 23 feet, when a violent explosion of inflammable air took place, and informed them that they had been penetrating, not into the galleries

* Bure is the miner's term for a shaft.

of Mamonster, but into the old workings of Martin Wery. Some of the workmen proposed to continue the work in the same direction; but M. Goffin prevented them, saying, at the same time, "When we have no longer any hopes left, I shall conduct you to this place, and then all will soon be over."

At first they refused unanimously to obey him, and gave themselves up to despair. The young boys threw themselves on their knees to request a blessing from their parents, while the old men uttered dismal complaints, and lamented over the future lot of their wives and children. Goffin gradually inspired them with some courage, and prevailed upon them to proceed to the fifth gallery, which he judged to promise the shortest communication with the galleries of Mamonster. When they came to this place, they heard a distant noise, which rekindled some hope in their hearts, as they supposed it to proceed from their fellow miners opening a passage to them from the galleries of Mamonster. But they were by this time so exhausted by their former labours, and by the want of food, that all the exertions of Goffin were scarcely sufficient to inspire them with any activity. Three times they threw down their tools in absolute despair; but sometimes by entreaties, and sometimes by threats, he always prevailed upon them to resume their pickaxes, and recommence their work. They had dug a gallery 36 feet in length, though by the second day their candles had gone out, from the badness of the air, and they were left in total darkness.

For the first two or three days they suffered dreadfully from hunger. Some devoured the candles which they had contrived to conceal, and found in their own urine a drink, which they preferred to the putrid water of the mine. Others (Bertrand in particular) reckoned upon the speedy death of some of their companions as a means of furnishing them with food. Fortunately nature dissipated for a time at least these scenes of horror, by giving them the refreshment of a sound sleep.

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Meanwhile every thing had been done without the mine for the deliverance of the unfortunate workmen thus buried alive, by the sagacious and vigorous orders of the Prefect. The shaft Mamonster presented the only means of letting them escape; but they had no exact plan of the workings, and knew not, therefore, through how much ground they had to penetrate in order to reach the galleries of Beaujonc. Above a hundred horses were kept constantly employed in pumping out the water, in order to prevent it from filling all the galleries. Twenty fresh men descended every four hours by the shaft Mamonster, in order to relieve the workmen who were pushing a gallery towards Beaujonc, without any loss of time. The engineer, M. Migneron, had ascertained with much sagacity the true geometrical point from which the gallery must commence, in order to reach the unfortunate sufferers. For greater certainty, they employed blasting, till they were certain that they had been heard by the sufferers; then their zeal was redoubled, and the exertions made were incredible.

1816.] Re-union of Parts separated from the Living Body. 268

The noise made by the buried miners while endeavouring to penetrate to Mamonster became gradually louder and louder; and on the fifth day they were able to communicate with Goffin and his unfortunate party. They were informed they were 74 in number, that none of them had perished, but that they were distressed by a dreadful heat, though sunk to the middle of their bodies in water. From that time they wrought without light in the mine of Mamonster, to prevent the inflammation of the air.

A communication was opened on the 3d of March, at seven in the evening, and every precaution was taken to prevent any fatal effects from the air, or from fire. After penetrating through a space of 511 feet, a kind of detonation took place, from the escape of the condensed air. The unfortunate miners were then taken out, and every possible care was taken to prevent any injury from too sudden an exposure to the air and light. They were fed with a little wine and broth, then wrapped up in flannels, and laid for some time on straw in the mine itself before they were brought above ground. M. Goffin, though the most exhausted of all, came out last, with the engineer, M. Migneron, and young Mathieu Goffin. This extraordinary boy had given constant proofs of the greatest coolness and courage. On seeing his mother, he called out to her jocosely, What, mother, are you not married again yet?* When the miners were in despair, and bursting into tears, he called out to them, "Come along, you behave like children, follow the orders of my father. We must work, and show those that survive us that we retained our courage to the last moment of our lives."

ARTICLE III.

On the Re-union of Parts accidentally separated from the Living Body. By Thomas Thomson, M.D. F.R.S.

I have of late received various letters containing queries on this subject. I conceive that the shortest and most satisfactory mode of answering them will be to give an historical detail of all the facts on the subject, as far as i am acquainted with them.

It is supposed that the first person who discovered that separated parts might be again made to adhere as before to the living body was Gaspard Tagliacozzi, a surgeon of Bologna, and Professor of Surgery in that city, who died in 1553. He published two treatises on the subject, with the following titles. De Curtorum Chirurgia per Insitionem, libri duo.-Chirurgia nova de Narium, Aurium, Labiorumque Defectu, per Insitionem Cutis ex Humeris arte hactenus ignota sarciendo. The first of these tracts is to be

Eh bien, mère, n' etes-vous pas encore remariée ?