It was, however, to be earlier than he anticipated. On January 25th, 1815, he wrote to Abbott: "Now for news! We shall part in a few weeks (pray write quickly) for Naples, and from thence proceed immediately to Sicily. Afterwards our road is doubtful; but this much I know, that application is made for passports to travel in the Turkish Empire, and to reside in Constantinople; that it is Sir Humphry's intention to be among the Greek islands in March, and at Athens early in the spring.... Adieu, dear friend. With you I have no ceremony. The warmest wishes that friendship can dictate are formed for you by M. Faraday." Thus had he written towards the end of January—within three months he was to be shaking hands with his friend at home!
While on the road to Naples, Faraday heard of the escape of Napoleon from Elba on March 7th, and records it thus briefly in his journal: "Tuesday, March 7th.—I heard for news that Bonaparte was again at liberty. Being no politician, I did not trouble myself about it, though I suppose it will have a strong influence on the affairs of Europe." It is strange how quietly Davy and his "assistant" passed through Europe at a time when war was convulsing nearly the whole of it; quietly and apparently unconcernedly they went their way, seeing who and what was to be seen at the various stopping-places, prosecuting their researches in different branches of chemistry, and adding in many ways to their stores of knowledge, seemingly unaffected by
"The time that tried men's souls."
At Naples Faraday again ascended Vesuvius, and on this occasion had the grand experience of seeing it in active eruption. He writes a full and graphic account in the journal, from which one passage, descriptive of the eruption itself, may well be quoted. This time Faraday had ascended with a guide only, Sir Humphry having stayed part way up the mountain to see Monte Somma. "I saw a large shower of red-hot stones in the air," writes Faraday, "and felt the strong workings of the mountain; but my care was now to get to the crater, and that was soon done. Here the scene surpassed everything. Before me was the crater, like a deep gulf, appearing bottomless from the smoke that rose from below. On the right hand this smoke ascended in enormous wreaths, rolling above us into all forms; on the left hand the crater was clear, except where the fire burst out from the side with violence, its product rising and increasing the volume of volatile matter already raised in the air. The ground was in continual motion, and the explosions were continual, but at times more powerful shocks and noises occurred; then might be seen rising high in the air numbers of red-hot stones and pieces of lava, which at times came so near as to threaten us with a blow. The appearance of the lava was at once sufficient to satisfy one of its pasty form. It rose in the air in lumps of various size, from 1/2 lb. to 25 lb. or more. The form was irregular, but generally long, like splashes of thick mud; a piece would often split into two or more pieces in the air. They were red-hot, and, when they fell down, continued glowing for five, ten, or fifteen minutes.... I was there during one explosion of very great force, when the ground shook as with a strong earthquake, and the shower of lava and of stones ascended to a very great height, and at this moment the smoke increased much in quantity. The guide now said this place was not safe, from its exposed situation to the melted lava and to the smoke, and because it oftentimes happens that a portion of the edge of the crater is shaken down into the gulf below. We therefore retreated a little, and then sat down, listened, and looked."
We have seen from the letter to Abbott at the end of January that a somewhat lengthened tour had been planned out. On March the 21st Faraday's journal says, "We left Naples at five o'clock." From that time the return was rapid. At Rome there was some delay owing to the lack of post-horses; the French troops under Murat were advancing, and everybody was leaving the city; the Pope had fled, and the cardinals were flying. After a delay of a couple of days carriage-horses were hired at a great expense, and the travellers proceeded on their homeward flight. At Mantua delay again occurred, as the passports had to be "signed, re-signed, and countersigned." "At last," says Faraday, "we saw the outside of the town, having, much against our will, remained two hours and a-half in it."
Faraday's last letter home is written from Brussels on April 16th; it is to his mother, and is well worth reading: "My very dear Mother,—It is with no small pleasure I write you my last letter from a foreign country, and I hope it will be with as much pleasure you will hear I am within three days of England. Nay more, before you read this letter I hope to tread on British ground.... I am not acquainted with the reason of our sudden return; it is, however, sufficient for me that it has taken place. We left Naples very hastily, perhaps because of the motions of the Neapolitan troops, and perhaps for private reasons. We came rapidly to Rome, we as rapidly left it. We ran up Italy, we crossed the Tyrol, we stepped over Germany, we entered Holland, and we are now at Brussels, and talk of leaving it to-morrow for Ostend; at Ostend we embark, and at Deal we land on a spot of earth which I will never leave again. You may be sure we shall not creep from Deal to London, and I am sure I shall not creep to 18, Weymouth Street; and then—but it is of no use. I have a thousand times endeavoured to fancy a meeting with you and my relations and friends, and I am sure I have as often failed: the reality must be a pleasure not to be imagined or described.... You may be sure that my first moment will be in your company. If you have opportunities, tell some of my dearest friends, but do not tell everybody—that is, do not trouble yourself to do it.... My thoughts wander from one to another, my pen runs on by fits and starts; I do not know what to say, and yet cannot put an end to my letter. I would fain be talking to you, but must cease. Adieu till I see you, dearest mother; and believe me ever your affectionate and dutiful son,
"M. Faraday."
"'Tis the shortest and (to me) the sweetest letter I ever wrote you."
Thus ended Faraday's wanderings—
"But who may tell