
 
        
         
		quently  tumble  off  and  are  caught in  small glazed  pots,  that  
 are  purposely placed  underneath  to  receive and  prevent them  
 from doing further mischief.  This  contrivance, however, must  
 be too expensive to be general. 
 We  had  scarcely  descended  the  heights and  reached  the  
 village of  Santa Cruz,  which  is  situated  on  the eastern point  
 of  the  island,  before  it  became  dark;  and we had  still  ten  
 miles  to travel,  along the  edges  of  rocky precipices overhanging  
 the sea-shore,  where we  had  little  to  trust  to  beyond  the  
 cautious  steps of  the mules.  In this  part of the journey,  one  
 of the  most  brilliant  and  beautiful  meteors  I   ever  beheld  
 passed  over our  heads,  from the body  of  the  island,  with  a  
 rustling noise like  that of  a  sky-rocket,  appearing to fall in  a  
 curvilinear  direction  into  the  sea.  The  duration  of  its light  
 we  conjectured  to  be  from  eight  to  ten  seconds.  The  first  
 impression,  made  by  a  light  so  exceedingly  brilliant,  suggested  
 the idea of  a fresh  eruption  from  the  volcanic  mountains  
 we had just descended,  and all  eyes were turned towards  
 that quarter.  Our  troublesome  journey,  as I  observe  by my  
 notes,  was  much  shortened  in  philosophizing on  this  phenomenon. 
   On the principles of the old-fashioned doctrine which  
 then  (now  thirteen  years  ago)  prevailed,  it  was-  concluded  
 that the  electric fluid,  passing through  contiguous  or blended  
 volumes of oxygen  and hydrogen  gasses floating in  the upper  
 regions  of  the  atmosphere,  might  effect  that  chemical  combination  
 which  is  known  to  produce  water;  and  that,  notwithstanding  
 the clear starry hemisphere,  we might be  caught  
 in  rain  before  we  reached  Funchal.  This  did  not  exactly  
 happen,  but  several  smart  showers  fell  in  the  course  of the 
 night.  The  signs  and  prognostics  of  the  weather  become  
 more  than usually  interesting  to  him  who has  to travel over  
 .desert wastes,  w h e r e   he has no  expectation  of meeting  with  
 even a hovel to hide him from the storm.  Such having been my  
 case since the period on which I am now writing, it may readily  
 be supposed  I  was  not  wholly  inattentive  to  these  circumstances  
 ;  and I can safely say  that,  as far as my observations  
 go,  either  a  clouded  atmosphere  or  rain has invariably sue- ,  
 needed the appearance of fiery meteors,  or,  as they are sometimes  
 called, falling stars.  Perhaps, indeed, the same effect of  
 c o m b i n i n g   the airs might take place, whether these meteors  be  
 considered as mere electric sparks,  or heated masses  of  stone  
 formed under circumstances and ejected from situations equally  
 un k n own.  The modern  conjecture,  that  the  latter might be  
 hurled  from  lunar  volcanoes,  seems to be the most plausible,  
 as, under favourable positions of the sun and moon, calculators  
 have assured us,  that  the  force required to send a stone from  
 the latter  planet  within  the  attractive  sphere  of  the  former  
 would be little more than three times that of a cannon  ball. 
 Thus the various accounts we meet with, in ancient history,  
 o f  stones descending from the heavens,  and  supposed to have  
 been ejected from the sun or the moon, are not quite so fabulous  
 as they were long held to be.  Even modern  philosophers disbelieved  
 the  fact,  and  ridiculed  the  hypothesis;  but  they  
 have  at  length  condescended  to  concede  that  the  ancients  
 might  be  correct  as  to  the fact,  and  possibly  not wrong  in  
 their  conclusions.  Pliny,  who  in  his  natural  history  has  
 given us a  compilation of every thing he had read,  heard,  or  
 seen,  records  an  instance,  among  others  of  a  similar  kind, 
 B