Or all the incidental difficulties and dangers that beset the navigation of the North Atlantic, there is none that causes so much anxiety to the mariner as detached ice, whether existent in the form of floes or bergs. The season of 1890 will long be remembered in the nautical and scientific world as being quite phenomenal in regard to the quantity of ice reported, and the geographical limits within which it has been encountered. But it is by no means easy to obtain definite information on the subject. It is true that the regular Atlantic liners carefully note and report the position of the ice encountered by them; yet, until the laws that govern the magnitude and the range of the Atlantic drift-ice are inore accurately known, such reports do little else than sound a note of alarm to the navigator, apprising him of the existence of a danger, but leaving him quite in ignorance as to the locality where it may next be encountered. In ordinary seasons, it is assumed that the detachment of the bergs from the parent glaciers in Greenland does not take place until May is well advanced; that when free from the ice that has covered land and sea alike during the Polar winter, they set out on a southerly journey into the warmer waters of the Atlantic, slowly urged on their voyage by the chill waters of a cold drift-current that ever flows through the depths of the Atlantic from Pole to equator. It is strange that the language of agriculture should be requisitioned to describe phenomena so distinctly antagonistic as that presented by Arctic ice. An expanse of ice resting upon and covering the sea with a coating of uniform thickness is spoken of as an ice-field; while the process of severance whereby a berg is detached from the glacier is alluded to as calving. The calving process, however, would seem to have occurred at a much earlier date this year than in previous seasons, for as early as April 22, the steamer La Gascogne, while on a voyage from New York to Havre, reported passing three icebergs, all

of great size, in latitude 42° 51' north. For icebergs to have reached so far south at such a date is most remarkable, and as far as our present knowledge of the climatic conditions of the Arctic ice regions is concerned, quite unexplainable. During the months of May and June hardly a voyage was made across the North Atlantic without ice being reported, many steamers having to make most lengthy detours to avoid it; and several firms, with a praiseworthy prudence, mapped out a much more southerly course for the vessels of their fleets, wisely choosing a longer passage, than run the risks of collision with field or berg ice.

The progress of a berg from its home in a Greenland fiord, down through Davis Strait and along the desolate shores of Labrador, is necessarily a very tardy one. Passing Labrador, they glide slowly over the Banks, losing no inconsiderable portion of their bulk whenever they strand in the shallows of that region. Even when an iceberg has its base deeply embedded in the sea bed, the check to its voyage is often but of short duration. The restlessness of the sea, the influence of the tides, and the ever-constant propelling influence of the Labrador current, soon effect its release, and onward it glides in ghostly majesty, its base hidden in the depths of the ocean, and its pinnacled summit shrouded in an impenetrable mist. The detached fragments, the broken snouts of the berg, severed by friction with the ocean floor, freeze again to the sides of the berg as it pursues its southerly course, like a monster ship of ice surrounded by a flotilla of attendant shore-boats. From Newfound land the moving ice follows the trend of the North American shore, gradually decreasing in mass, until, reduced to a liquid, it is lost in the waters of the surrounding ocean. The dissolution, however, takes a considerable time to accomplish. The two melting forces, the warm air and warm water, iuto whose influence the berg advances, receive a very material check by

reason of the air and water which are in immediate contact with the berg. As the ice slowly melts, fresh water will result, and this, by virtue of its lesser specific gravity, floats upon the surface of the ocean. The temperature of this surrounding area of fresh water will be very little if anything above the freezing-point. The air above this zone of fresh water will naturally take the same temperature, while that contiguous to the berg itself takes the temperature of the berg; so that the iceberg is surrounded with an aërial and water blanket many degrees below the normal temperature of the region through which the berg passes. Aided by these hindrances to a speedy dissolution, icebergs have been known to float as far south as the latitude of Gibraltar before

they have wasted away. The envelope of fog that surrounds that part of the ices berg above the sea-level, chilling as is iteffect upon the ocean voyager, is not an unmixed evil, for its presence often serves to notify the proximity of ice. The condensation of the aqueous matter present in the atmosphere is not the only warning that the navigator receives of his approach to ice. Many shipmasters aver that the human body is peculiarly sensitive in this respect, and the damp, penetrating chilliness, which once experienced is never forgotten, affords an infallible index of the vicinity of berg or field ice. In the language of the Ancient Mariner :

And it grew wondrous cold, And ice mast high came floating by As green as emerald. Unfortunately, however, in these days of keen competition and rapid passages, navigators cannot regard such vague premonitions with the importance they deserve; they serve, however, to advise a careful man that danger may lurk in the dense fog that surrounds him, and he prepares to meet it accordingly. Some idea of the extent of these fog-areas may be gathered from the fact that vessels steaming from twelve to fifteen knots have taken from one to three days to sail through them, and that without making any appreciable reduction in their speed. It must not be lost sight of that ships have undoubtedly traversed these fog-patches without encountering ice or any trace of it, and that, too, when the very centre of the fog-zone has been pierced. The explanation, however, no doubt is, that the

NEW SERIES.-VOL. LIII., No. 2.

process of liquefaction, whereby the berg has been transformed from ice to water, has just been consummated, and that the resultant icy waters have chilled the warmer superincumbent atmosphere, rendering its vapor visible as a dense mist or fog.

The season of 1889 was one of comparative immunity from Atlantic ice dangers. Why the succeeding year should be so prolific of both berg and field ice is as yet unexplainable. It is suggested, however, that the prevalence of severe northerly gales during the whole of December and part of January 1889-90 contributed not a little to set the ice free in larger quantities and at an earlier date than usual. Another peculiarity of the 1890 season is the remarkable fact that the ice has penetrated farther eastward than it has been known to do before. The master of the sealing-vessel Terra Nova, while on a voyage from Newfoundland to Dundee, encountered many large bergs, one of the largest being found in 50° north and 41° west. Subsequent reports show that both field and berg ice have been met with even two degrees farther eastward than the position cited above.. This eastward extension of the ice during 1890 may have been caused by some abnormal influence of the Labrador current, or by the supposition that bergs may have entered upon the drift of the Gulf Stream before they had been melted, and were in consequence slowly carried to the northward and eastward. The locality in which the ice has been thickest is that where the Labrador current impinges upon the waters of the Gulf Stream. Here both currents become considerably enfeebled, and the bergs accumulate in consequence. In spite of such an abundance of ice, maritime disasters therefrom have been most rare. No higher tribute can be paid to the p: udence and skill of North Atlantic navigators than to state that no serious calamity by ice collision has occurred, and except in one or two instances, the regularity and punctuality of Atlantic_voyages have not been interfered with. Perhaps the nearest approach to a disastrous collision with a berg was that experienced by the Normannia. Between latitudes 46° 29' and 45° 20' north, and longitudes 42° 22′ and 48° west, no fewer than twenty-five icebergs were descried, and with one of these the ship collided.

Fortunately, the damage was trivial, and all above the water-line. It was during a dense fog that the iceberg was suddenly sighted, and before the reversal of the engines had time to take the way off the ship, she struck it broadside on. The passengers scarcely felt the shock, for the vessel immediately glanced off the berg into clear water. A little less vigilance and a little less promptness on the part of the captain and crew of the Normannia, and she had no doubt gone to swell the ranks of the missing. A similar accident, the disastrous consequences of which were averted in a similar manner, befell the Thingvalla. In the case of the BeaconLight, an Atlantic liner provided with a powerful search light, the collision was of a somewhat more serious nature. Her log reports: "During a heavy fog at midnight an immense iceberg was discovered towering above the ship not seventy-five feet away. Orders were given to alter the helm and reverse the engines, but not altogether in time to clear the berg, which was struck by the starboard bow of the steamer. A large quantity of ice was dislodged, and the ship was considerably damaged, but brought safely into port.' Collision with the berg is not the only danger to be feared from a too close propinquity with an iceberg. Exposure to an atmosphere many degrees warmer than itself causes the ice to assume a spongy character, highly favorable to the severance of fragments of all sizes upon the least disturbing influence being brought to bear upon it. The vibration of the air caused by the sounding of a steamer's whistle has been known, in the case of porous ice," to detach large masses from the berg; while a gun fired in the neighborhood of a similar berg produced atmospheric concussion sufficient to bring down enough ice to destroy any vessel upon which it fell. It must be borne in mind, however, that the severance above alluded to was only effected with bergs the ice of which was 66 spongy and rotten." Below the water-line the changes in the ice-mass are much to be feared by a vessel that happens to be near when they occur. The detachment of huge blocks often shifts the position of a berg's centre of gravity, with the result that the iceberg immediately capsizes, crushing everything in its immediate neighborhood.

As far back as 1875, the adoption of

steam lanes a considerable distance to the southward of the usual course of Atlantic liners was advocated; and it is satisfactory to observe that common prudence impels mariners to cross the 50th meridian during the months of March, April, May, and June, at a point much farther to the south than their point of intersection during the other months of the year. Many firms, however, do not rely too much upon the discretion of their commanders, but carefully procuring all the available information relative to the quantity and drift of the ice, they map out a course for them accordingly.

The pilot chart issued in June by the United States Hydrographica! Department indicated that the prudent course for vessels proceeding eastwardly was to cross longitude forty-seven degrees at latitude forty degrees north. The westerly course is to cross the same longitude at latitude thirty-nine degrees. The adoption of such precautionary measures has no doubt done much to minimize the risks of ocean voyaging during the ice-season; but the question naturally arises, cannot anything be devised which shall give the mariner sufficient warning of the proximity of ice? Up to the present, nothing of a reliable nature has yet been invented. The most powerful electric search-lights were inefficient in the case of the Beacon-Light to reveal danger until it was but some seventyfive feet away. It has been suggested, however, that by means of a thermopile and a galvanometer, and an ordinary mercurial thermometer for recording the temperature of the surrounding atmosphere, a very effective ice-indicator can be made. A movable contact-breaker should be fitted to the galvanometer, and this should be set at a point considerably below the temperature recorded by the thermometer. When the mercury in the thermometer falls to the point at which the movable contact-breaker of the galvanometer is placed, the thermopile by means of an electric alarm-bell notifies this fact, and this sudden fall in the temperature suggests that the fog-bank conceals an iceberg. In the case of a sudden fall in the temperature, the warning of the thermopile would prove invaluable; but it is by no means satisfactorily established that the envelope of cold air surrounding an iceberg is separated from the normal air of the region outside the area of the berg's

influence by so definite a line of demarcation as a sudden diminution of temperature of ten degrees. It is more probable that the transition from the normal temperature to the cold air in juxtaposition to the berg is an extremely gradual one; and in that case ordinary observation would prove almost as efficacious as the somewhat elaborate plan alluded to above. Such dangers as field and berg ice entail upon the navigator can hardly have failed to call into existence a host of suggestions as to the best way of removing them. That which has occurred to many is that a vessel of war should be employed to patrol the Atlantic and destroy by firing upon or other means any berg it may encounThe idea of enlisting the forces of war to facilitate the commerce of the nation is not without its attractiveness. Unfortunately, however, such a scheme meets with no favor from practical men. It must not be forgotten that the specific gravity of ice as compared with water is as 9 to 1, so that something like nine-tenths of the mass of the berg is below the sealevel. The destruction of the pinnacled summits of the berg would simply mean the reduction of the berg to a more compact form, and the consequent lessening of the visible area of the iceberg.

ter.

An iceberg with a summit rising some ninety or a hundred feet above the sea is undoubtedly a great danger to safe navigation; but except when obscured by fog it is a danger that reveals itself for a considerable distance. A mass of ice, however, over which the sea washes, or which

is elevated above the waves but to the height of ten or fifteen feet, is a danger much more to be feared. The difficulty is clearly one in which prevention is the best cure. A fleet of ocean patrols could easily determine the quantity of ice, and the rate of its drift, that was likely to intersect the trade routes across the North Atlantic. Such knowledge rapidly and widely disseminated by means of despatchboats and the electric telegraph, would do much to reduce ice-dangers to a minimum. There is one other phase of Atlantic icephenomena that stands in need of elucidation. It has been proved beyond doubt that of the bergs carried southward by the Labrador current, some find their way back to what has aptly been termed the

Palæocrystic Sea." The direction that such bergs take, and the course they must drift to avoid the continuance of the southerly direction that must sooner or later result in the liquefaction of the largest bergs, are at present shrouded in mystery. It is matter for discussion whether the surface drift of the Gulf Stream is sufficient to deflect a berg to the northward and eastward. The solving of these problems is calculated to benefit in the highest degree possible the North Atlantic trade, for it is a phase of marine exploration that will go far to develop the truth of the aphorism, "The seas but join the nations they divide," and so knit closer together the great English-speaking peoples separated by the waters of the Atlantic Ocean.-Chambers's Journal.

at Wörishofen, a hitherto obscure Bavarian village; and no one who has taken the trouble to peruse a dozen will deny pages this to be a work which owes nothing to style or form, but everything to the spirit which has inspired it. It is, in fact, imIt is, in fact, impossible to review the book without reviewing its author as well; and in these days when hypnotism, faith-healing, etc., are so much spoken of, it may interest some to hear of a mode of treatment which in so far resembles these that a strong personal individuality plays a prominent part. Let the author, therefore, here speak for himself in the introductory words which usher in the subject:—

"No one leaf on a tree is exactly and absolutely like the second one; still less does the fate of one human being precisely resemble another, and were each of us before death to write down our biography, there would be as many different histories as there are men. Crooked and involved are the paths which in thy life cross and recross each other-sometimes resembling an inextricable tangle, of which the various threads apparently lie over each other without plan or method. So it seems to us at least, but it never is so in reality. The beacon of faith throws its illuminating rays into this dark chaos, and shows us how all these crooked pathways have been designed from the outset by an all-wise Creator to lead us to a fixed and determined goal. Wonderful, indeed, are the ways of Provi.

dence !

"When from the watch-tower of old age I look down upon the vanished years, and behold the intricate windings of my paths, I observe how these have sometimes run seemingly on the very edge of a precipice, only, how. ever, to reissue thence, and conduct me against all hope to the sunny heights of my vocation; and I have every reason to extol the wise and loving dispensations of Providence, the more 80 as the road which seemed destined to lead me to a pernicious and certain death has proved to be a source of renewed life to myself

as to countless others.

"I was over twenty-one years of age when, with my Wanderbuch* in my pocket, I left my home. The Wanderbuch described me as a weaver apprentice; but since my childhood's days another wish was engraved on the leaves of my heart. With indescribable pain and anxious longing for the realization of my ideal, I had waited long, long years for this disoharge. I wished to become a priest. So I went forth, not, as had been intended and de sired, to wield the shuttle, but hastening from place to place in hopes of finding some one who would be willing to assist my studies. The now deceased chaplain, Mathias Merkle (+1881), it was who took up my cause; he

* Police-book, serving as passport to travelling journeymen.

gave me private instruction during two years, and prepared me with such assiduous zeal that at the end of two years I was able to enter the parently fruitless. The work was not easy, and apgymnasium. After five years of the greatest efforts and privations, I was morally and physically broken down. Once my father came to fetch me from the town, and there still ring in my ears the words spoken to him by the landlord of an inn where we had stopped to rest. Weaver,' he said, 'you are fetching the student for the last time!' Nor was the landlord the only man who shared tary doctor of considerable reputation, who this opinion. There was at that time a milipassed for being a great philanthropist and friend of the indigent sick. In the year before last of my gymnasial studies he visited me no less than ninety times, in the last year full over a hundred. Gladly would he have helped me, but his medical knowledge and selfsacrificing charity were baffled by the steadily increasing disease. I had long since given up all hope, and looked forward to my end with mute resignation.

"I was fond of dipping into books to amuse and distract my thoughts. Chance-I employ this habitual but in reality vague and nonsensical word, for there is no such thing as chance threw an insignificant little volume in my way. I opened it: it treated of cure by cold water. I turned over its leaves and read there incredible things. Who knowsshot through my brain-who knows if you will not find your own case here? I went on reading. Verily, everything coincided to a nicety-what joy, what consolation! New hope electrified the withered body and the yet more withered mind. This little book was the first straw to which I clung; soon it becuine the staff on which the patient could lean; today I regard it as the lifeboat sent by a merci. ful Providence in the hour of my greatest

need.

"This little book, treating of the healing power of cold water, is written by a doctor; its prescriptions are mostly exceedingly violent and severe.

I tried them for a quarter of a year, for half a year; I experienced no perceptible improvement, but also no bad effects. That gave me courage. Then came the win. ter of the year 1849. I was again at Dillingen. Two or three times a week I sought out a solitary spot and bathed for some minutes in the Danube. Quickly I used to hurry to the bathing-spot-still quicker I hurried home back into the warm room. I never derived any harm from these cold exercises, but also, as I deemed, small advantage. In the year 1850 I came to the Georginium* at Munich. There I found a poor student whose plight was even worse than my own. The doctor of the establishment refused to give him the health certificate indispensable for his admission to holy orders, because-so ran the verdict-he bad not much longer to live. I had now a dear companion. I initiated him into the mysteries of my little book, and we both

A seminary for theological students.