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

Hark, how the air rings!
'Tis the mavis sings;

And merrily, merrily sounds her voice,
Calling on valleys and hills to rejoice;
For winter is past,

And the stormy blast

purpose.

In

Is hast'ning away to the northward at last. Minstrelsy of the Woods. tended to recommend its capture for this In placing the thrush among cage-birds, it is not inthe 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.

ance.

that few persons can be unacquainted with its appear This 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, darkest on the breast, and mottled with triangular dusky spots. The difference in appearance between the male and female bird is very slight, and not sufficient to strike any but an experienced eye.

the

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 are seen assembling in autumn, preparatory to their de parture for other regions. 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, 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 both Etruscan and Roman, but the tombs are all rifled. The rocks are perforated in every direction, and here may arrives, which it does very suddenly, and in great quanbe seen columbarii and sepulchral chambers without num-tity, the birds are driven southwards to more favourable ber, and of every form.-MRS. GRAY's Sepulchres of Etruria. climates. So abundant are these birds along the south

to the bandits. Isola has formerly been a burying-ground,

1844.]

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 eggs vary in the midst of a thick hedge or bush. 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 bat 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

the men.

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 writer above named, “an old thrush pounce down on a At first he stands lawn moistened with dew or rain. motionless, apparently thinking of nothing at all, his eye vacant, or with an unmeaning gaze. Suddenly he bends his ear on one side, makes a glancing sort of dart with his head and neck, gives, perhaps, one or two hops, and then stops, again listening attentively, and his eye glistening with attention and animation. His beak almost touches the ground, he draws back his head as if to make a determined peck. Again he pauses, listens again, hops, perhaps, once or twice, scarcely moving his position, then is once But he knows well more motionless as a stuffed bird. what he is about. For, after another moment's pause, having ascertained that all is right, he pecks away with might and main, and soon draws out a large worm, which his fine sense of hearing had informed him was not far off, and which his hops and previous peckings had attracted to the surface, to escape the approach of what the poor worm thought might be his underground enemy, the mole."

But it is during winter, perhaps, that we have the

213

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. There 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 wait patiently, understand the actions, expect the assistance of the other, and advance from his asylum upon its apafter a time we missed the fostered bird, which probably proach. This procedure was continued for some days; but 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 time.

The song of the thrush is a very delightful one, and is commenced earlier in the morning, and continued later in the evening, than that of most other birds. Neville 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 "When one individual shouts out this farewell notes, and bidding "good night," as it were, to its companions. 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.

The song of the thrush is unquestionably the finest of and power any of our permanent wood songs, and superior in clearness, though not in variety, to that of any of the warblers. But the very abundance of it, perhaps, makes it less depths of groves, and during the soft and balmy stillness of prized than it should be. The nightingale, heard in the the summer's night, may have more of the lusciousness of romance about it; but there is a bold, natural, and free feeling of rustic vigour, enjoyment, and endurance about the thrush, which gives it a more home and hearty interest in all parts of the country, than can be possessed by any mere bird of passage, whatever may be its charms while it stays. The thrush is especially one of the birds of plenty; its if hear a thrush, you have not very far to go before you blithe and varied song is never heard amid desolation; come to a human dwelling. Where its animal food, which it at all times prefers to that which is vegetable, fails, the thrush may commit more devastations among the fruits than many other birds; but when the snail-shells by the hedge-side are counted, and it is gravely considered how

you

and

REMARKABLE SOUNDS IN NATURE.
II.

it could only be compared with a 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.

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 It has been surmised, that the murmurings of El report that a remarkable and penetrating noise proceeds Nakuh are by no means confined to the bosom of that from this place. The Arabians believe it to resemble the mount; that not only all elevated regions, but other tones of the Nakuh, i. e., a long narrow metallic ruler, tracts of land under favourably exciting circumstances, suspended horizontally in the Greek monasteries, and become, more frequently than our philosophy dreameth struck with a hammer for the purpose of assembling of, instruments on which nature delights to play "sounds the monks to prayer, a method which is now nearly ob- and sweet airs;" that hills and plains, the wilderness solete hence also the tradition that a monastery is and the waters, are in her hands but as "harps whose miraculously preserved within the bosom of the hill. A chords elude the sight;" though whether this melody Greek was said to have seen the mountain open, and to be of "the air or the earth," must remain a matter of have descended into the convent, where he found luxu- mystery, whereupon wisdom yet may ponder. rious 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,

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