surface, is exceedingly small. The shadow forms only a narrow band on the earth's surface, and though that strip of darkness will cross Europe six times during the remainder of the present century, yet comparatively few places will enjoy the spectacle. It is certain that none of the present inhabitants of the British Isles will ever see a total eclipse, if they do not move beyond their own shores. But if the shadow does not come to us, we have the alternative of going to the shadow.
It may, however, be asked. Is it worth while to go much out of one's way to enjoy the spectacle? We have seen eclipses very nearly total, and we can readily conceive one that is absolutely so. Would it, then, really reward one to travel far to behold a sight which may differ so little from what we have already seen? We can give a very decided answer to this question. No approach to totality can give the slightest conception of the effect produced, the instant that the last thread of light is extinguished. The light of the sun is so intense, that while the slightest part of the disc is visible, the darkness is by no means alarming. The eclipse of 1857, which was nearly total, gave great disappointment to many who were led to expect something very appalling. Accounts of total eclipses were previously given, and it was a natural and popular expectation, that one so nearly total would produce effects very similar. But
