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a statue of Victory; but these lofty columns, each of a single shaft, having been cut in two, now form the four supports of somewhat low proportions to the central lanthorn. Each piece is about thirteen feet six inches high. The measurements of the diameter of the sections in each pair, show how they were joined. Their capitals, an imitation of the Corinthian, are mediæval. The original capitals were Ionic. The church, as a building, was in existence before the year 937. Its foundation, as a monastery, was much earlier, it having been assigned to St. Badoul in the fourth century. It was destroyed by the Saracens in the eighth, and the present edifice was begun in the tenth century. The outside is ornamented with a sort of mosaic of red brick, or tiles, inserted into a whitish stone. western tower has a pyramidal roof, and a smaller quarter pyramid at each angle. Beneath the sacristy are the dungeons in which Pothinus and Blandina were immured previously to their martyrdom. "The sufferings of these witnesses for the truth, rest upon a document of great authenticity, The Epistle of the Churches of Vienne and Lyons to the Brethren in Asia and Phrygia. Pothinus, chosen bishop of Lyons, and then ninety years of age, was sent back into this dungeon, where he expired after two days' confinement. For Blandina, who was a converted slave, greater tortures were reserved. After being Scourged and exposed to the fire in an iron chair, she was exposed to the beasts in the amphitheatre. These events took place during the persecution under Marcus Antoninus, the implacable enemy of Christianity, A.D. 177." These dungeons are situated below the bed of the adjoining river; they are most gloomy cells, without light or air; and the apertures by which they are entered, are so low, that they must be crept into upon hands and knees. They adjoin a crypt which, up to the time of the Revolution, was used as a chapel.
It has been already noticed that the ancient name of Aynai is Athena cum. It is generally supposed to have been built upon the site of the Athenæum, founded by Caligula, the buildings of which included the Augustan altar already noticed. "It was a school of debate and composition, in which pleaders competed for the prize. Great honours were bestowed upon the successful competitors; but those who failed were liable, according to the statutes of the imperial founder, to the most severe and humiliating punishments,-to be chastised with a ferula or thrown into the river, and to obliterate their own compositions by licking them out with the tongue; hence, even the most gifted, would approach the altar with trepidation."
There are other remarkable churches in Lyons which deserve the attention of the student. That of St. Nizier, built by a citizen of the name of Renouard, who began it in 1300, and finished it before 1315, is instanced as a splendid example of the flamboyant Gothic. The church of St. Pierre has a curious Carlovingian portal, in perfect preservation; and the church of the Cordeliers is spoken of as strikingly monastic.
The Hotel de Ville, or Town-hall, is perhaps the finest building in Lyons. It was erected from 1447 to 1455. Its lofty roofs and bold projections make it not unworthy of the ancient consulate, who, before the Revolution, were a most influential and useful magistracy. The Palais des Beaux Arts, or Museum, occupies the ancient convent of St. Pierre. It contains some very remarkable specimens of Roman antiquities; such as a taurobole or square altar, five feet high; the bronze tablets conLaining the speech made by Claudius, as already noticed In our former article; a very fine mosaic pavement representing the games of the circus, in which the spina and the gates whence the chariots started for the race are fully given, was found at Aynai, in the year 1800. Several other pavements were found, including one of Orpheus and the beasts, the colours of which are very brilliant; with many other sepulchral and other inscrip
The Hotel de Ville and the Museum are in the quare called the Place des Terreaux, Here, in 1794,
the guillotine was erected, and actively kept at work, and although the square became flooded with human blood, its operation was too slow for the Terrorist chiefs, who therefore resolved to mow down the wretched prisoners by musketry and grape shot. Nearly six thousand victims perished, including those who fell in the defence.
Lyons suffered horribly during the Revolution. The siege of Lyons was undertaken by the National Convention, to punish and bring back to their side the people of Lyons, who, irritated by the vexations and horror-stricken by the tyranny of the revolutionary club, had risen up in arms against them, and made prisoner, tried, and executed their president, the infamous Challier. Sixty thousand troops, with one hundred pieces of cannon, were collected against this devoted town, whose defence was intrusted to ten thousand of her citizens, under the command of Count de Précy. The wealthy merchants and land-owners devoted their fortunes to the cause; women and children caught the spirit of resistance, and cheerfully resolved to hold out to the last. After an heroic resistance of sixty-three days, during which they endured a shower of eleven thousand red-hot shot, and twenty-seven thousand shells; after all the surrounding heights had been gained by the enemy, and death and famine arrested the power of further resistance, the town was yielded on the 9th of October, 1793. The chief defenders had already quitted the place and retreated towards Savoy, but they were overtaken and cut to pieces, or dispersed by the hostile cavalry. About fifty, however, including the. Count de Précy, escaped.
On the capitulation, it was decreed by the National Convention, in order to humble the pride of the Lyonnais, that their city should be destroyed. During five, months, a fearful list of cruelties was perpetrated under the direction of Couthon, Collet d'Herbois, and Maignet. The demolition was carried on by a mob of discharged workmen, and others of the lowest classes. Lyons was reduced to a heap of ruins; the expense of merely pulling down amounted to 700,000l. sterling. The decree which thus doomed Lyons to destruction, also enacted, that a column should be erected on its ruins, to bear these words:
Lyons fit la Guerre à la Liberté, Lyon n'est plus.
(Lyons made war against Liberty, Lyons is no more.)
The Convention even gave a new name to the city, that of "Commune affranchie.”
The consequence of these acts of barbarity on the commerce and manufactures of Lyons was most disastrous. In 1806, the number of inhabitants was estimated at less than ninety thousand, only half its population at the time of the fatal siege. Of the public buildings that. sustained damage from the bombardments, the Library is most to be regretted, its losses being in many cases irreparable to literature. The roof was beaten down, and large heaps of the books and MSS. were buried in the rubbish. During the reign of the Convention, many were carried to Paris, and others were stolen. The Library was turned into a barrack, and the National Guard lighted their fires, and boiled their coffee, with the volumes, which they preferred to any other combustible.
The Picture Gallery contains some good pictures by the old masters. A School of Design is established here, as well as an Academy of the Fine Arts. The Museum of Natural History is creditable by its extent, and most useful and instructive by its excellent systematic arrangement, according to orders, families, and genera. The charitable institutions of the city are numerous.
Silk is the staple manufacture of Lyons; and in the extent of it this city surpasses every other in Europe. In variety of design, in taste, in elegance of pattern, and
in certain colours, the manufacturers have a superiority over the English. They can work twenty-five per cent. cheaper, but the hand-loom weavers are nearly as badly off as those of Spitalfields. There are no large factories here; the master, instead of having a certain number of workmen constantly employed in his own. premises, merely buys the raw material, and gives it out to be manufactured by the weavers, dyers, &c., at their own houses. The patterns are produced by draughtsmen, (generally a partner of the master manufacturer,) and the laying or preparing of the pattern is the province of another artist. Mr. Murray, in his excellent Handbook for Travellers in France, states that, thirtyone thousand silk looms are employed in Lyons. The silk weavers are bodily and physically an inferior race; half the young men of age for military service being exempted, owing to weakness or deformity.
The fortifications of Lyons consist of a number of detached forts, crowning the heights of St. Croix and Fournières on the right bank of the Saône, and of Croix Rousse above the suburb of that name, and the circuit is completed by seven other forts built round the faubourgs. They originated in the fearful insurrections of the workmen and others, which took place in July, 1831, and 1834, and are at least as much designed to repress intestinal revolt, as to withstand invasion from without. In 1834, the artisans formed unions for mutual protection, (as it is so fallaciously termed,) and called themselves Mutuallistes; a reduction of wages occasioned a general "strike;" several acts of disorder were committed, and some of the rioters were arrested. The determination of the authorities to bring these rioters to trial, led to an insurrection. The rioters fortified themselves with barricades, took possession of the suburbs, and the place was contested for two days. They had expelled the military, and it was necessary to raise an army to put them down. No less than two hundred of the military were killed, and a much larger number on the part of the insurgents. The part of the city chiefly occupied by these artisans, is the faubourg of La Croix Rousse, "a moral volcano teeming with turbulence and sedition." The principal fort has been so constructed that its guns entirely command this faubourg, and could, upon occasion, level it with the dust, while a fortified barrack separates it at will from the rest of the city.
THE ISOLA FARNESE is a most romantic rising ground with cliffs and streams round it, and presents to view a sweet quiet-looking hamlet, with an inn, and a fortress of the Middle Ages, now belonging to a princely family of Rome. The inhabitants are all shepherds and vine-dressers, and to us were very civil. About three weeks afterwards, forty of them were taken up as leagued banditti, and brought to Rome. The master of the inn was one of their leaders, and is said at times to have given his guests human flesh to eat,-detected by a young surgeon, who found a finger in his plate; and the landlord who came out to us at Fossa, was captain of the band. We thanked God for our safety, for it was late in the evening, and had they attacked us, we should have made but a poor defence. We might easily have fallen into their hands, for an accident happened to our carriage driving from Isola to the high road. We became separated from our party, and had far to walk, during which time we were met in a narrow lane by several mounted Contadini, covered with togas, and armed with long iron-shod poles, who stared at us with surprise. We did not, however, know our real danger, and only felt uncomfortable. They rarely touch the English, for three reasons: first, because they fight before they yield; secondly, they never carry money except on a journey; and, thirdly, the whole body make such a fuss, should one of their countrymen be injured, that it always threatens destruction
to the bandits. Isola has formerly been a burying-ground,
both Etruscan and Roman, but the tombs are all rifled. The rocks are perforated in every direction, and here may be seen columbarij and sepulchral chambers without number, and of every form.-MRS. GRAY's Sepulchres of Etruria.
Hark, how the air rings!
And merrily, merrily sounds her voice,
For winter is past,
And the stormy blast
Is hast'ning away to the northward at last. Minstrelsy of the Woods. In placing the thrush among cage-birds, it is not intended to recommend its capture for this In purpose. the heart of cities, indeed, where the natural song of the bird can never be heard, perhaps it is excusable to deprive it of liberty, for the sake of the heart-cheering strains which, even in such situations, it pours forth to gladden the spirits of the pent-up throng; but in situa tions where its song may be heard from every copse and hedge-row during summer, it seems a gratuitous piece of cruelty to make it a prisoner.
that few persons can be unacquainted with its appearThis bird is so familiar in all parts of the country, It is about nine inches long, the stretch of the wings being thirteen or fourteen inches; the weight about three ounces. The whole of the upper part of the body is olive brown; the under part cream colour, spots. The difference in appearance between the male darkest on the breast, and mottled with triangular dusky and female bird is very slight, and not sufficient to strike any but an experienced eye.
In Britain the song-thrush is a resident bird, merely coming nearer our dwellings, or removing from one dis trict to another, in severe weather; but on the Continent it is much more migratory in its habits, and large flocks parture for other regions. are seen assembling in autumn, preparatory to their de In summer, the north of Europe presents particular attractions to this bird, for there, a great portion of the surface, beyond the pine forests, is covered with extensive brakes of juniper, the berries of which are ripe in summer, as they come to their full size the preceding season, and have only to ripen during the last year they are on the bushes. These close bushes, protected by spines, afford a safe and conof a supply of food close at hand. When the snow venient nesting-place for thrushes, with the advantage arrives, which it does very suddenly, and in great quantity, the birds are driven southwards to more favourable climates. So abundant are these birds along the south
ern shores of the Baltic, that it has been stated that little short of two hundred thousand have been captured and sold for the table in the course of one season. When the journeys of these birds are very extensive, they only rear one brood in the year; but in England it is well known that they produce two, and in some cases three broods in the year.
The nest of the thrush is a compact structure, formed externally of moss and fibres, and strengthened by an internal plastering of mud. It is generally situated in the midst of a thick hedge or bush. The eggs vary in number from three to six, and are of a pale bluish-green colour, with small spots of rust colour and black. During the hatching of the young, the male bird is very attentive to his mate, and shares her assiduity in seeking food for their offspring. The social disposition of these birds is shown by their often choosing a place for their nest almost within sight of the windows of a country residence. Instances have indeed occurred of a still nearer approach. Dr. Stanley mentions that, a short time ago, in Scotland, some carpenters working in a shed adjacent to a dwelling house, observed a thrush flying in and out, which led them to seek out the cause. To their surprise they found a nest commenced amongst the teeth of a harrow, which, with other implements of husbandry, was placed upon the joists of the shed, just over their heads. The carpenters had arrived soon after six o'clock; and at seven, when they found the nest, it was in a state of forwardness, having been the morning's work of a pair of these indefatigable birds. They continued their work throughout the day, and when the workmen arrived on the following morning, they found the female seated in her half-finished nest, where she had laid one egg. When all the eggs were laid, the male bird took his share in hatching them, though he did not sit so long as the female. In thirteen days the young birds were out of their shells, which the old ones carried off. They then brought an abundant supply of snails to their young progeny, breaking the shells by a sharp knock on the tooth of the harrow, and catching the snail without ever letting it fall. Sometimes they brought worms, butterflies, and moths. As is usual with most birds, the old ones constantly carried off the excrement of the young ones, that it might not accumulate in the nest. As the family grew, and became more rapacious, the entrance and retreat of the old birds through the door was so rapid that it could scarcely be seen, but was only known by the sound, as they darted over the heads of
best opportunity of observing the destruction of snails effected by these birds. At that season, as it is well known, snails nestle by hundreds under hedges, and along the foundations of walls, especially in districts where vegetables are extensively cultivated. A sort of transparent curtain effectually excludes the air from the interior of the shell, and in this state snails lie dormant until the arrival of the spring. But the thrush and the blackbird, retreating from the more bleak and exposed districts, come down to the gardens and cultivated lands, and in open weather are very assiduous in their search after these dormant snails, which they destroy in great numbers, and thus do a most essential service to the early spring crops.
The following interesting fact, in reference to the thrush, is related by Mr. Knapp, in his Journal of a Naturalist:
We observed this summer two common thrushes frequenting the shrubs on the green in our garden. From the slenderness of their forms and the freshness of their plumage, we pronounced them to be birds of the preceding summer. he was an association and friendship between them that
called our attention to their actions. One of them seemed
ailing, or feeble from some bodily accident, for though it hopped about, yet it appeared unable to obtain sufficiency of food. Its companion, an active sprightly bird, would frequently bring it worms or bruised snails, when they mutually partook of the banquet; and the ailing bird would of the other, and advance from his asylum upon its apwait patiently, understand the actions, expect the assistance proach. This procedure was continued for some days; but after a time we missed the fostered bird, which probably died, or by reason of its weakness met with some fatal accident.
The thrush is very early in song, commencing in favourable seasons towards the end of January, and as there are two or three broods in the year, the song continues till the beginning of October; or, at least, thrushes are always to be heard between these periods, though the same bird may be mute during a portion of
The song of the thrush is a very delightful one, and is commenced earlier in the morning, and continued later Neville in the evening, than that of most other birds. Wood speaks of the song-thrush as a polite bird, beginning the affairs of the day with a "good morning," proclaimed in its loudest tone, and duly answered by its associates; and, late in the evening, sending forth farewell notes, and bidding "good night," as it were, to its com"When one individual shouts out this farewell panions. from his airy bed, he is answered on all sides by a dozen of others, and then for a few minutes deep silence reigns in the woods, until, all vulgar songsters having ended their tales, the brake nightingale commences his."
Another notice of the song of this bird, and of the utility of thrushes in destroying snails, the pests and enemies of our gardens, is too interesting to be omitted. It is by the eloquent author of The Feathered Tribes of the British Islands.
Thrushes feed chiefly on slugs, worms, and snails, of which latter, especially, they destroy such numbers, that they deserve to be held in especial esteem by gardeners, and to be forgiven, if, when there is a scarcity of this kind of diet, they make free with the lesser fruits of the garden. It is amusing to watch the proceedings of several of these birds, as they scour the new-mown lawn Watch," says early in the morning in search of food. The song of the thrush is unquestionably the finest of and power the writer above named, "an old thrush pounce down on a At first he stands any of our permanent wood songs, and superior in lawn moistened with dew or rain. motionless, apparently thinking of nothing at all, his eye clearness, though not in variety, to that of any of the warvacant, or with an unmeaning gaze. Suddenly he bends blers. But the very abundance of it, perhaps, makes it less his ear on one side, makes a glancing sort of dart with his depths of and during the soft and balmy stillness of head and neck, gives, perhaps, one or two hops, and then prized than it should be. The nightingale, heard in the stops, again listening attentively, and his eye glistening the summer's night, may have more of the lusciousness of romance about it; but there is a bold, natural, and free with attention and animation. His beak almost touches the ground, he draws back his head as if to make a deter- feeling of rustic vigour, enjoyment, and endurance about the mined peck. Again he pauses, listens again, hops, perhaps, thrush, which gives it a more home and hearty interest in all parts of the country, than can be possessed by any mere once or twice, scarcely moving his position, then is once But he knows well bird of passage, whatever may be its charms while it stays. more motionless as a stuffed bird. what he is about. For, after another moment's pause, The thrush is especially one of the birds of plenty; its having ascertained that all is right, he pecks away with blithe and varied song is never heard amid desolation; and if you hear a thrush, you have not very far to go before you might and main, and soon draws out a large worm, which come to a human dwelling. Where its animal food, which his fine sense of hearing had informed him was not far off, it at all times prefers to that which is vegetable, fails, the and which his hops and previous peckings had attracted to thrush may commit more devastations among the fruits the surface, to escape the approach of what the poor worm than many other birds; but when the snail-shells by the thought might be his underground enemy, the mole." hedge-side are counted, and it is gravely considered how
But it is during winter, perhaps, that we have the
completely these and their broods would have eaten all the early vegetables as they got above ground, and the strawberries and peaches as soon as they began to ripen, it is at least an undetermined question, whether the good done by the thrush may not far more than counterbalance the evil.
When kept in confinement, a very large cage is necessary for the health and comfort of the thrush, that it may be able to take exercise without injuring its feathers. If possible, the cage should be three feet and a-half long, and nearly as many high. Oatmeal, moistened with milk, is very suitable food for this bird: it may also be fed with a paste made with crumb of bread, rape-seed, or hemp-seed, bruised, and meat cut small. Grapes and other fruits are given by way of variety. A plentiful supply of water is required both for bathing and drinking. When these birds are taken old, it is very difficult to make them take their food, and many die in consequence. Their fondness for bathing in companies is thus noticed by Bechstein. They like to bathe in company, and assemble sometimes to the number of ten or twelve at once, by a particular call. The first which finds a convenient stream, and wishes to go to it, cries in a tone of surprise or joy, sik, sik, sik, siki, tsac, tsac, tsac; immediately all in the neighbourhood reply together, and repair to the place; they enter the bath, however, with much circumspection, and seldom venture till they have seen a redbreast bathe without danger; but the first which ventures is soon followed by the others, which begin to quarrel if there is not room enough for all the bathers." Water-traps are sometimes employed to take these birds, and this explains their circumspection, as noticed by our author.
With care and attention the thrush may be preserved in captivity for seven or eight years; it may even be taught to whistle many airs of the bird-organ; but few persons of taste would wish to substitute other strains for those with which it delights our ears in a state of
"Love your neighbour as yourself," and, "Do unto others as you would they should do unto you," are Scripture commands, to be no more forgotton in language than in action. How often and how much is truth sacrificed to a good jest against another, and how many a sharp remark, which began in idle mirth, has passed from lip to lip, till it kindled an unkind feeling, and has irretrievably wounded the unlucky cause of it! It must, indeed, he a very strong love of truth, which will prevent a man's overstepping the exact fact with regard to the conduct of another, when by some exaggeration he could make a witty speech which is burning on his tongue. Yet "false witness" is more often exaggeration than a direct lie.-Truth without Prejudice.
THE CONSTANCY OF NATURE CONTRASTED
Ir is a pleasure to stand upon the shore, and to see ships tossed upon the sea; a pleasure to stand in the window of a castle, and to see a battle, and the adventures thereof below; but no pleasure is comparable to standing upon the vantage ground of truth, (a hill not to be commanded, and where the air is always clear and serene,) and to see the errors, and wanderings, and mists, and tempests, in the vale below; so always that this prospect be viewed with pity, and not with swelling or pride.-BACON.
The breeze that cooled my warm and youthful brow
LORD! how I am all ague, when I seek
What I have treasured in my memory! Since, if my soul make even with the week, Each seventh note by right is due to Thee. I find there quarries of piled vanities;
But shreds of holiness, that dare not venture To show their face; since, cross to Thy decrees,
There the circumference earth is-heav'n the centre. In so much dregs, the quintessence is small;
The spirit and good extract of my heart Comes to about the many hundredth part; Yet, Lord, restore Thine image,-hear my call. And, though my hard heart scarce to Thee can groan, Remember that Thou once didst write in stone.
A COMPARISON. THE lapse of time and rivers is the same, Both speed their journey with a restless stream; The silent pace with which they steal away, No wealth can bribe, nor prayers persuade to stay. Alike irrevocable both when past, And a wide ocean swallows both at last; Though each resembles each in every part, A difference strikes at length the musing heart Streams never flow in vain : where streams abound, How laughs the land with various plenty crown'd; But Time, that should enrich the nobler mind, Neglected, leaves a weary waste behind.-CowPER.
HAPPY is he who lives to understand,
REMARKABLE SOUNDS IN NATURE. II.
On the east coast of the bay of Suez, about three hours' journey from Tor, in Arabia Petræa, is a low sandstone hill, where at a particular spot is an insulated peaked rock named Nakuh, facing the coast, and rising to the height of about one hundred and fifty feet. Travellers report that a remarkable and penetrating noise proceeds from this place. The Arabians believe it to resemble the tones of the Nakuh, i. e., a long narrow metallic ruler, suspended horizontally in the Greek monasteries, and struck with a hammer for the purpose of assembling the monks to prayer, a method which is now nearly obsolete: hence also the tradition that a monastery is miraculously preserved within the bosom of the hill. Greek was said to have seen the mountain open, and to have descended into the convent, where he found luxurious gardens and delicious water; and in order to afford proof of his descent, he produced some fragments of consecrated bread which he pretended to have obtained in the subterranean convent. The inhabitants of Tor likewise state that the camels are rendered furious when they hear the sounds proceeding from this hill.
M. Seetzen was the first European traveller who visited this remarkable spot. On the 17th of June, 1810, he proceeded thither, accompanied by a Greek Christian, and a few Bedouin Arabs. About noon the party reached the Nakuh Mountain. It presented upon two of its sides two sandy declivities, so much inclined, that the white and slightly-adhering sand on its surface Was scarcely able to support itself; and when the scorching heat of the sun, or the smallest agitation, disturbed the slight cohesion, it was seen to slide down the two slopes.
With great difficulty the travellers climbed up the sandy declivity to a height of between seventy and eighty feet, and rested beneath the rocks where persons are accustomed to listen to the sounds. But in the very act of climbing, M. Seetzen heard a sound from beneath his knees, and was hence led to think that the sliding of the sand was the cause of the sound, and not the effect produced by the sound. He compares the sound to that of a humming-top, rising and falling like that of an Eolian harp. Thinking that he had discovered the true cause of the sound, he climbed to the highest rocks, and sliding down as fast as possible, endeavoured with the aid of his hands and feet to set the sand in motion. The effect answered to his expectations, and the noise produced was so loud that the earth seemed to tremble. In the year 1818, Mr. Gray, of University College, Oxford, visited the Nakuh, but has not added much to the information furnished by M. Seetzen. He describes the sound as being first a low murmur beneath his feet, which, as it became gradually louder, changed into pulsations so as to resemble the striking of a clock, and at the end of five minutes, the vibrations were of sufficient energy to detach the sand. He considers the grating of the sand not as the cause, but as an effect of the sound, and from the existence of hot springs in the neighbourhood, he maintains that the sound must be of volcanic origin.
In the year 1823 Professor Ehrenberg visited this remarkable place. He ascended from the base of the hill over its sandy cover, to the summit, where he observed the sand continually renewed by the weathering of the rock; and satisfied himself that the motion of the sand was the cause of the sound. Every step taken by him and his companion produced a partial sound, Occasioned by the sand thus set in motion, and differing only in duration and intensity from that heard afterwards, when the continued ascent had set loose a greater quantity of sand. Beginning with a soft rustling, it passed gradually into a murmuring, then into a humming noise, and at length into a threatening of such violence, that had it been more continued and uniform,
it could only be compared with distant cannonade. As the sand gradually settled again, the noise also gradually ceased. It is also stated by Seetzen, that the noise is often heard when animals run across the sand; also, when the wind blows violently, or when loose masses of rock set the sand in motion.
It has been surmised, that the murmurings of El Nakuh are by no means confined to the bosom of that mount; that not only all elevated regions, but other tracts of land under favourably exciting circumstances, become, more frequently than our philosophy dreameth of, instruments on which nature delights to play "sounds and sweet airs;" that hills and plains, the wilderness and the waters, are in her hands but as "harps whose chords elude the sight;" though whether this melody be of "the air or the earth," must remain a matter of mystery, whereupon wisdom yet may ponder.
Those who are conversant with Alpine scenery, and in the habit of strolling amidst the recesses of these mountainous regions, will readily bear their testimony to the power of avalanches for the production of those awful concussions which so often rouse attention, reechoing from every pinnacle and precipice; while, to the more gradual and gentle lapses of sheets of pulverized snow down the smooth inclined plains of lengthened acclivities, may be referred the minor moanings which rise and fall upon the ear, much resembling in character the tones of El Nakuh.
Some of the most respectable authorities of antiquity agree in assigning vocal powers to the statue of Memnon, at Thebes. Strabo asserts that he heard sounds emitted; but without being able, as he says, to state whether they proceeded from the statue or the base, and that, although they certainly did appear to him to issue from the one or the other, yet he would rather believe they came from the bystanders, and was altogether an imposture, than conclude that stones ranged in such and such a manner were capable of yielding sound. Pausanias, who saw the mutilated remains of the statue when the lower part alone remained on the pedestal, speaks of it as a fact of which there could be no doubt, and compares the sound to the breaking of the strings of a lyre. Pliny, in enumerating the various Egyptian marbles, mentions this Memnonian rock as possessing the singular quality of cleaving or cracking under the influence of the morning sun. Juvenal alludes to it in his Fifteenth Satire:
Where broken Memnon sounds his magic strings; and Tacitus states that Germanicus, in his progress up the river Nile, was witness to the circumstance.
Notwithstanding all this evidence, the sounding statue of Memnon might have been an imposture, originating, however, partly in a natural cause. The imposture consisted in magnifying simple sounds, produced by natural causes from a stone, into intelligible words, and even into an oracle of seven verses. That sounds were produced from this identical statue, has been confirmed in modern times by Sir A. Smith and others. That gentleman visited the statue before sunrise, and at six o'clock heard very distinctly the sounds in question. He states that the sound does not proceed from the statue, but from the pedestal, and expresses his belief that it arises from the impulse of the air upon the stones of the pedestal, which are arranged so as to produce this surprising effect. That some similar phenomenon had been detected in masses of insulated stones, is a supposition greatly strengthened by the testimony of Humboldt, whose attention was drawn to some remarkable granite rocks in South America, which at certain times spontaneously emitted sounds much resembling those attributed to the colossal statue of Memnon, a circumstance well known to the natives, who, however, were at a loss for an explanation of the cause. "The granitic rock on which we lay," says the illustrious traveller, "is one of those where travellers on the Orinoco have heard from time