As the phenomena accompanying these explosions are always of the same description, to relate the numerous recorded histories of such accidents would be only to multiply pictures of death and human suffering, without an adequate object: it is, however, essential to the just comprehension of the subject, that the reader should receive at least one well-authenticated account, in all its terrific details; and I have accordingly selected that which was originally drawn up with much accuracy and feeling by the Reverend John Hodgson, and which is prefixed to the funeral sermon preached on the occasion, and subsequently published by that gentleman. The accident occurred at Felling Colliery, near Sunderland, on the 25th of May, in the year 1812. This mine was considered by the workmen as a model of perfection, both with regard to the purity of its air, and the arrangements of its machinery. The concern was in the highest degree prosperous; and no accident, except a trifling explosion which slightly scorched two or three pitmen, had ever occurred. Two _shifts_, or sets of men, were constantly employed, the first of which entered the mine at four, and were relieved at their working posts by the next set at eleven o'clock in the morning; but such was the confidence of the pitmen in the safety of this mine, that the second shift of men were often at their posts before the first set had left them; and such happened to be the case on the following unhappy occasion. About half past eleven, on the morning of the 25th of May, the neighbouring villages were alarmed by a tremendous explosion. The subterraneous fire broke forth with two heavy discharges from the shaft called the '_John Pit_,' which was one hundred and two fathoms deep, and were almost immediately followed by one from that termed the '_William pit_,' A slight trembling, as if from an earthquake, was felt for about half a mile around the workings; and the noise of the explosion, though dull, was heard to the distance of three or four miles, and greatly resembled an unsteady fire of infantry. Immense quantities of dust and small coal accompanied these blasts, and rose high into the air, in the form of an inverted cone. The heaviest part of the ejected matter, such as masses of timber, and fragments of coal, fell near the pit, but the dust, borne away by a strong west wind, fell in a continued shower to the distance of a mile and a half; and in the village of Heworth, it caused a gloom, like that of early twilight, and so covered the roads that the footsteps of passengers were strongly imprinted on them. As soon as the explosion had been heard, the wives and children of the pitmen rushed to the working pit. Wildness and terror were pictured in every countenance. The crowd thickened from every side, and in a very short period several hundred persons had collected together; and the air resounded with exclamations of despair for the fate of husbands, parents, and children.