cera, and this number will fluctuate as the temperature fluctuates between 55° and 65°. Hence we are informed that the mortality from all causes is least when the temperature is about 50°, which is very little above our mean annual temperature."
The Late Eruption.—A correspondent of the London Athenaeum, writing, May 2nd, from Naples, graphically describes the late eruption. He says: A tempest of fine ashes poured down upon us, covering the streets and houses, filling our lungs, and almost blinding us. We all, from necessity, carried umbrellas, a slight protection, however, except to break the brunt of the driving shower as we met it. I have seen cabmen with handkerchiefs hanging in front of their caps, and some men with fine handkerchiefs tied over their faces. Last Friday and Saturday it was, as it were, one continuous roll of artillery, so loud that it could be heard full 20 miles distant; but after the sandstorm set in, if not so sharp and violent, it was, I think, more appalling. Vesuvius roared night and day; it rendered sleep impossible; its reverberations shook our windows and our houses, and great has been the exodus from Naples of the foreigners who came to admire, and now have fled in fright.
It is impossible adequately to describe the beauty and grandeur of the spectacle. In its totality it met the eye—one could watch the swelling growth of the eruption, its every movement, and mark all the exquisite proportions of that wonderful creation, whereas close under the mountain there was a terrific confusion of forms. On the afternoon of Wednesday week there was a grand display, which would have been sufficient for one season, and foreigners might have dispersed to their homes, delighted that they had at last witnessed a brilliant eruption of Vesuvius. On the Thursday it was less active, but in the night there was a cannonade, a loud continuous roar, which never ceased a moment for 48 hours. At the distance of 20 miles it shook the windows and murdered sleep; and one thought only of the havoc which was then being committed on fair lands and populous villages. Like a gigantic cauliflower rose up that vast mass of fire and smoke. Do not smile at the homeliness of the comparison, for it is the only one which really represents its form. Its thousand involutions, round and swelling, are well imaged by the sections of the plant, and as they emerged from the volcano they grew in height and magnitude, and intermingled and rolled one over the other until they ascended to the zenith, and then toppled over, section after section, and fell by their own weight. I could see the showers of dust on either side, and in the midst, burning stones like stars; yet the height of this marvellous form was never lessened, for underneath curled up continually fresh supplies, while the thunder, which rolled fearfully, gave a never-failing impulse to their ascent. A slight wind from the northwest detached portions of the column on one side, and sent them down the coast for miles, in one long cloud; as the wind varied, it was swept inland, or across the sea. And then the colors, how exquisite they were! There were artists with me who positively raved. We had the pure white of the homely plant on the summit, while each section was divided from the other by a shade of black. As the setting sun cast its light upon it, we had all the prismatic colors of the rainbow, and then night fell, and the entire mountain, the heavens above and the sea beneath, were on fire.
Eastern Thibet.—According to Dr. Campbell, from whose papers on Eastern Thibet Nature gives an interesting abstract, the dong or wild-yak of that country is the fiercest of all known ruminants, rarely allowing a man to escape if it can come lip with him. Like the American buffalo, this animal is generally hunted on horseback. The domesticated yak and the sheep are used for the transportation of salt, which is brought from all but inaccessible districts, having an elevation of some 22,000 feet, and where it is so cold that salt can only be obtained from April to November. The sheep carries a load varying in weight from eight to twenty-four pounds, according to the character of the route; the salt is thus conveyed to places accessible by yaks, which are capable of bearing a load of 160 pounds.
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