The Sun.
London, England, 1858-03-16 00:00:00

THE ECLIPSE.

SIGHT FROM THE VICTORIA TOWER.
A large number of persons resorted to the highest
building 4 in the metropolis to view the eclipse, and
the hi ;hest peak of all—the Victoria Tower—was
honoured in this way with a numerous attendance
of visitors, among whom were even ladies, who
braved the real fatigue and terrors, such as they
at' e, of the giddy ascent, and acme officers of the
Life Guards, who in pursuit of science managed to
climb without mishap, accompanied and incom-
moded by their jackboots and mediaeval spurs, to
the vary summit of the noble edifice. We need
pearcely say that, as far as the eclipse was concerned,
no one saw better up there than they did from the
ground ; in fact, of the actual eclipse but very little
could be seen at all.

On the summit of the tower, when the eclipse
commenced the wind was strong and almost vio-
lently gusty, and went bellowing and howling up
and down the great central staircase with a noise
particularly ominous and unpleasant.
Even for some little time after the sun had been
partially obscured by clouds, the extent of the
prospect seen from the tower was as we have said
most grand. Greenwich Hospital, apparently sur-
rounded at the back with fields and dark patches of
woodland, could be distinctly seen, while on the
south the Crystal Palace, dwarfed seemingly to the
proportion of a neat conservatory, formed a promi-
nent Object: o the -mist the' view wa;kinnre hazy,.
but still open ground _round •Bayassrater and• Pad,
dington was plainly visible, and hills about Kew
and Fulham were lnot to be mistaken for any.
thing but hills. About half an hour after the
eclipse had commenced and all this was changed—
Greenwich Hospital, the Crystal Palace, the hills
at Fulham, and neat whit© houses of Bayswater had
all disappeared, and in their place was a band of
sad coloured misty twilight, which seemed to con-
ceal everything within its mournful folds and to be
slowly enclosing the great city.
From this time (about half-past 19) the growth
of the obscuiity was rapid and palpable. Every
minute London seemed enveloped more and more
iu an unnatural gloom—neither dawn nor evening.
Every minute, as the spectator moved round the
battlements of the Tower and overlooked London
from each of its four sides, he could notice the in-
crease of gloom and miss some conspicuous struc-
ture from among the great mass of edifices beneath
him. The Monument and St. Paul's went among
the first, the high bulk of the latter waning into a
darkish mass, and then losing itself amid the
general gloom, exactly as a dissolving picture fades
from view. On the south side of the water the
dome of Bethlehem became almost indistinct with
that of the groat metropolitan cathedral, and at
last the whole of Lambeth gradually resembled a
level dark-looking mass, like a tract of tog land
seen from a distance. Buckingham-palace early
lost its individuality, and it was difficult to dis-
tinguish its massive form from the dark-looking
grass of the Park in which it stood. As the
time of the !greatest obscurration approached
the gloom deepened and deepened in pro-
portion, and with it the stillness of all around
grew more and more heavy and observable. One
o'clock struck, and as it struck the darkness seemed
to us to be greatest and most solemn. Lamb-nth
Palace could just be distinguished on one side, and
Westminster Abbey and (but very dimly) the
Westminster Hospital on the other. The Horse
Guards could not be distinguished in Parliarneet-
street, and both the Nelson column and St. Mar-
tin's church were for a time invisible in the thick-
looking air ; only the towers of the old Abbey and
the spires of the New Houses were at all distinctly
visible for a minute or so, and on them the dark-
ness had the effect of seeming to increase both their
size and distance from the spectator. Almost
directly after the period of the greatest obscuration
was passed the very rapid return of light could be
distinctly marked as building after building seemed
to creep forth again into existence.
At about 25 minutes past 1 a slight break in the
clouds allowed the sun to be seen for a moment.
The shadow of the morn was then full upon it, the
sun itself appearing like a young crescent moon of
some two or three days old. The light he gave at
this moment was pale and watery, and the sub-
stance of the moon seemed of a dull pewtery colour.
Beyond this glimpse, which only lasted for a
minute, nothing more was seen, and only the rapid
increase of natural daylight showed that the sun
was not eclipsed for ever.

No other nearly total eclipse such as that of yes-
terday will, we believe, again occur in England
during the remainder of the present century.

FROM ST. PAUL'S GALLERY.
The wind was cold and cutting ; the fog was
dense, and what was still more vexatious, we could
soo that the atmosphere below was comparatively
clear, while there 78.3 not the slightest symptom
of any of those remarkable features for which every
one, book in one hand and coloured glass in the
other, was patiently waiting. At twenty minutes
to twelve o'clock we got our first glimpse of the
eclipse. A small section of a circle might be ob-
served to be quite black on the bright surface, and
for that moment only during the day were the
coloured glasses rendered necessary. Subsequently,
the clouds closed in apio, and the patient watch-
ers on the tower" had nothing for it but to wrap
themselves up from the cold and wind, to road
their little books where alone the more remarkable
features of the eclipse were to be found. We had,
it is true, a gradually increasing gloom, but still
nothing unusual in foggy weather, and as the
moon drew across the sun. and more and more
shut us out from the rays of the latter. there was a
peculiar chill like that of nightfall, which was un-
comfortably perceptible at our elevated position.
,
The gallery at this moment as if completely enve-
loped in fog, the limits of which were, however,
quite definable
as it formed a sort of deep band,
which left the street below almost clear, while the
atmosphere above—that is, between us and the
clouds—had a comparatively rarified look. The
river must have been quite clear of vapour, for we
and the barges
could see the little steamers shooting up and down,
gliding lazily along, and even on