'Planetary Nebula.

This seems to be a species of bodies that demands a particular attention. To investigate the planetary nature of these nebulæ, is not an easy undertaking. If we admit them to contain a great mass of matter, such as that of which our sun is composed, and that they are, like the sun, surrounded by dense luminous clouds, it appears evidently that the intrinsic brightness of these clouds must be far inferior to those of the sun. A part of the sun's disk, equal to a circle of 15′′ in diameter, would far exceed the greatest lustre of the full moon ; whereas, the light of a planetary nebula, of an equal size, is hardly equal to that of a star of the 8th or 9th magnitude. If, on the other hand, we should suppose them to be groups, or clusters of stars, at a distance sufficiently great to reduce them to so small an apparent dia meter, we shall be at a loss to account for their uniform light, if clusters; or for their circular forms, if mere groups of stars.

Perhaps they may be rather allied to nebulous stars. For, should the planetary nebula with lucid centres, of which the next article will give an account, be an intermediate step between planetary nebulæ and nebulous stars, the appearances of these different si ecles, when all the individuals of them are fully examined, might throw a considerable light upon the subject.' r. 01.

A fuller discussion of the last head is referred to a future. period: two instances only occur. The catalogue follows; and this annual volume is concluded by the usual list of donors and presents.

ART. IV-Observations on a Tour through almost the whole of England, and a considerable Part of Scotland, in a Series of Letters, addressed to a large Number of intelligent and respectable Friends, by Mr. Dibdin. 2 Vols. 4to. 3l. 13s. 6d. Boards. Walker. 1802.

IT is unreasonable to expect too much. Yet, when we saw the advertisement, we anticipated no very slight degree of entertainment from Mr. Dibdin's Observations-observations, we suppose, suggested in his different tours through England. Mores hominum multorum vidit et urbes; so that of course his opportunities were favourable: abounding in stories and anecdotes, we supposed that these at least might not be wanting; an admirer of nature, an amateur, and somewhat of an artist, his descriptions would be necessarily picturesque, and his ornaments appropriate. With such prepossessions, we opened the work, but were soon undeceived. Much we found copied from ancient history in the library: the stories are often the gleanings of the jest-book; the descriptions few and imperfect; the beauties of nature illustrated by numerous plates, imperfectly executed. We looked with eager curiosity for the places which we knew, but soon closed the book with disappointment.

In the same parts of the volume, we looked at the plates, to catch the objects from recollection: in this, too, we failed. Mr. Dibdin professes to paint for wide and massy effect*. It may be for imposing objects and broad lights; but, in characteristic effect, he greatly fails. Let us take a single instance:-Dartmouth harbour, shut up between two hills, is singularly romantic, from its scenery, and from the town climbing up an almost inaccessible precipice, so that the houses in one street overlook the roofs of those below them. The whole scene, with the opposite village of King's Wear, is singularly picturesque; yet the point of view chosen is nearly opposite the outer point, where we look at the sea almost exclusively, and see the castle indeed, but thrown, for the sake of effect, we suppose, at the distance of some miles.-It could not be many yards from the spot where the author stood.-In fact, the bold projecting point was too tempting an object for effect to be' overlooked; and the straight lines of the town could not be made picturesque. Mr. Dibdin must, however, speak for. himself.

This book will comprise two large and handsome quarto volumes, embellished with forty views and twenty vignettes. It is, however, published in portions rather than together, on account of the greatdifficulty in getting forward the various materials it will contain. So much mental and manual labour has rarely, perhaps never, been bestowed by one man on any production. Painting, which had been only my private amusement, out of devotion to the public, I have in this instance made one of my professions, and to those who love truth and strength of expression, I hope I have not tendered the appeal in vain. Beyond this, out of respect to my advice, a novice, as to the schools, but by no means as to genius, comes forward, blushing with ↑ apprehension of fancied censure and disapprobation, that nobody knows better than I do are only vizors of the mind, under which she will be sure to discover candour and indulgence.' Vol.i. p.3.

The boundaries of counties offer no inconsiderable portion of their ancient history. The different rivers, the biography of those famous men who have added celebrity to their districts, an account of some plants and minerals of different countics, with tables of distances, form the chief subjects of this singu lar production. It will be hence seen how much the compiler, and how much the traveler, has furnished. The descriptions are few and short, the anecdotes often the recocta crambs of former wits: though aiming at much, Mr. Dibdin sometimes succeeds; and but few of his witticisms are seemingly original.

When he tells us, that they are not calculated to convey a slavish portraiture of national or provincia! peculiarity,' what interpretation can be given to these words?· that they are pictures, not resemblances, of the scenes ? this may appear harsh; cannot find any other meaning.

but we

*

The letters, in their order, refer to the following counties:Kent, *Sussex, Dorsetshire, Devonshire, Cornwall, and the Scilly islands; Devonshire on the return, *Somersetshire, *Herefordshire, Bedfordshire, Northamptonshire, Leicestershire, Derbyshire, and Staffordshire, in a single letter of sixteen pages--though to the two former he returns in the second volume-Lancashire, Westmoreland, *Cumberland, Scotland, Nottinghamshire, Lincolnshire, Norfolk, *Suffolk, and to London.' These are the contents of the first volume--In the second are accounts of Wiltshire, Berkshire, Essex, Cambridgeshire, Huntingdonshire, Northumberland, Durham, Cheshire, Yorkshire, Shropshire, Monmouthshire, Warwickshire, Worcestershire, Hampshire, Surrey, Oxfordshire, Buckinghamshire, and Middlesex.

The miscellaneous letters are the introductory ones, those on roads,' 'tours,' 'inns,' a defence of Nature versus Art,' 'circulating libraries,' 'servants,' 'dogs,' 'English and Scotch,' 'watering places,' 'monopoly,' the 'poor,' 'boarding schools," "retirement,' 'omens,' dialects,' anonymous letters,' agriculture,' quack medicines,' amusements.'

6

When we reflect on these miscellaneous letters-when we take into the account the numerous digressions in the descriptive ones, the ancient history and biography--we shall find the space left for description greatly curtailed. They are truly observations on a tour: but was this the author's intention in his title? We suspect that it was rather a little inadvertency; and, as two volumes were to be filled, various subjects were collected for the purpose.

The difficulty, however, of giving an adequate specimen of so miscellaneous and unequal a work remains. The letters are addressed to different persons; and it is singular that some of these gentlemen seem to have furnished the principal materials thus addressed to them. The descriptions are in general interspersed with amusing anecdotes, sometimes original, but the greater number of which have been already in print, handed down by our ancestors, at which we have laughed even from our boyish days; yet they are well told, and we have sometimes laughed again. In the second volume, the descriptions are, we think, more interesting: the author's manner is more free, and the ancient history less extensive. We shall select two specimens, one of Derbyshire, and the other of the city of York.

Of the seven wonders of the Peak, as they are called, so much has been said and is known, that I the less regret the impossibility from my plan of going into the subject at large. The first wonder is Chatsworth house, if that can be called a wonder of nature that was fabricated by art. It is certainly a most extraordinary and magnificent

* The counties marked with an asterisk are noticed again in the second volume.

structure, and the astonishing number of objects in and about so challenge admiration, that though I cannot condescend to imitate the byperbolical language of Cotton, who says:

The pictures, sculptures, carvings, graving, gilding,
Would be as long describing as in building.

Yet it is but the truth to say that this palace, which was built by William the first earl of Devonshire, and has undergone at various times most noble alterations and improvements, is a splendid proof of the spirit and taste of that illustrious family, and excites no expectation of pleasure but it abundantly gratifies.

Mam-Tor is considered as the second wonder; why, I cannot really understand, for as to its height it is not above one third of Skiddaw; and, if it is from its second appellation of the shivering mountain, that circumstance is not so great a phænomenon as is pretended, for there are many instances of hills that moulder away at their summits and sides, in consequence of the influence of the different seasons on the particular quality of their strata. The fact in relation to MamTor is no more than this. The stratum upon the face of this mountain is composed of shale and gritstone; and, after long frosts, heavy gales of wind, a long continuance of rain, and other natural causes, the shale is decomposed, which it is very subject to be by the action of the atmosphere, and large quantities of it leave the original stratum, and repose in the valley. A foreigner says in his account of MamTor, I understand, but I cannot declare it upon my own authority, that this mountain has been thundering down large stones in great plenty time out of mind, and yet it has never diminished in its size." For my own part I have seen it three times and once sketched its form, but I never found it in a thundering humour. It has a purplish appearance towards the summit, which indicates something of the circumstance, but I have no doubt but that report which can make a mountain of a mule hill, has not in this instance gone out of its way.

Eden-hole is the third wonder. Originally it was nothing more than a chasm in the earth; but a farmer, having lost two fat oxen that fell into it, he surrounded it with a stone wall. If a stone as large as a man can lift be thrown into this hole, as soon as it strikes the rock it will rebound from side to side, the sound gradually decreasing for a considerable time till it ends in a murmur. Mr. Cotton, who seems determined that truth if possible should be the basis of his poems, describes the depth to be something more than half a mile; but he cannot tell how much more, and therefore like the philosopher, he has left truth at the bottom.

The fourth wonder is Buxton-Wells, and consists of a cold well,' situated within six feet of a hot well; but there is certainly nothing wonderful in that, I have already related the same of two springs at Canterbury. It appears to me a much greater wonder that so many people meet together in the midst of summer in a place without the least shelter from the sun, which must lie intensely hot upon that rocky soil, especially as they cannot as at Brighton jump into the sea' to cool themselves. The fifth wonder is Tides-Well, which is a spring that ebbs and flows, and this will happen twice or thrice in an hour at particular seasons. The cause of this is variously explained by diffe CRIT. REV. Vol. 38. July, 1803.

U

rent authors, but not one has pretended to pass his arguments for truth. It is a very extraordinary phænomenon.

• Pool's-hole, about half a mile from Buxton, is the sixth wonder. The entrance to this extraordinary cave is at the foot of a mountain, called Cortmoss, and it is so low that those who have sufficient curiosity to explore it enter upon their hands and knees; after which it opens into a prodigious height not unlike the roof of a cathedral, and therefore like Wokey-hole in Somersetshire; but soon after this the roof is so very high as not to be discernable. On the right is a hollow cavern called Pool's-chamber, and further on you see the representation of most curious fret-work, and in other places the figures of a man. a lion, and a dog, and many other animals, which a pregnant fancy readily suggests. Advancing further you come to what is called the Fillar of Mary queen of Scots; and, beyond this, is a steep ascent about a quarter of a mile high, which terminates in a hollow called the Needle's Eye, in which when your guide places his candle, it represents a star in the firmament. Near the pillar it is usual to fire a pistol, the report of which so resounds, that it seems almost as loud as a cannon. Pool, who is supposed originally to have inhabited this place, you are informed was a notorious thief. Others think he was a hermit. At any rate they will have it that some man of that name made use of this place, for some reason or other, as an asylum, though they cannot give a single reason upon which to hitch a conjecture how this story came to be propagated.

Peake's-hole is the last wonder. It is about a mile from Castleton, and consists of an immense cavern. Its entrance is at the bottom of a rock, on which stands the castle from which the town took its name. On either side as you advance towards the mouth of this gulph you very plainly discern the manner in which the veins of lead ore in inuate themselves into the rock, which is entirely limestone composed of marine materials. When you are immediately in the opening you will be pleased at the wonderful order in which the strata are arranged for their gene: al support, forming altogether upon the best principles of masonry a complete arch, the only constructed form which could possibly keep this immense weight from falling in and crushing every thing under it.' Vol. ii. p. 105.

The particular description of Peake's-hole has been often given. We now turn to York.

York is known by every one who frequents the north road, and is an object that excites and gratifies the curiosity of strangers; but it is by no means what the world in general think of it. The minster announces this city at an immense distance, and when you enter the place you may find yourself within fifty yards of it, without the smallest suspicion of whereabout it is situated. I think I say upon a former occasion that except the church and the gaol there is no one object that conveys an idea of superiority to any place around, that certainly it is in the center of all the great north roads, and therefore the inns alone thrive there, for it is constantly busy without having any thing to do, and, though always crammed, it is thinly inhabited. York is situated two-hundred miles south south-east of Edinburgh, a hundred and sixty north-east of Chester, and a hundred and ninety