As its melody falls upon the ear-drum, the wilder passions of the soul are subdued, the glowing fires of anger are extinguished, and the turbulent spirit, which, like the foaming sea, cannot rest, is quieted and becomes calm, as did the waves of Gallilee when Jesus said: "Peace,— be still." By furnishing a pleasing amusement in the hour of temptation, it has kept youth from turning aside into forbidden paths, and hoary-headed sires have derived from it "the vigor of the bow unstrung." In consequence of its power, it can warm the heart to goodness," or implant in it the seeds of virtue-rouse the soul to action, or "incite it to deeds of daring and glory."

66

As music is founded on universal natural principles, it is certainly appropriate in all places and on all occasions. Does, sorrow fill the stricken breast, music has a form peculiarly adapted to the expression of that sorrow. Does joy brighten up the countenance, and impart buoyancy of spirits, what is more appropriate than music to express those ecstatic feelings? The moaning winds are rife with it, and all nature, at times, seems to break forth into melody."

The effects of music coming under their own observation, and besides,, the deeds of their ancesters being celebrated in song, it is no wonder that the ancients eagerly drank in, and willingly believed, all the fabulous accounts respecting its power. Thus it was narrated in fable, that, moved by the harmonious strains of Orpheus' lyre, the flinty rocks leaped from the "everlasting hills;" the trees of the groves, nodding their shaggy tops, marched after him, delighted, and with measured pace; the wild beasts of the forest forsook their dark retreats, threw aside their natural hostilities, and danced together, around him, in ecstacy—while babbling rivulets, foaming cataracts and rushing rivers, stopped instantly in their courses and listened with breathless attention

Again, when, having lost his beloved nymph, Eurydice, he descended into the realms of Hades in search of her, charmed by his "golden shell," the ever waking fifty-headed Cerberus was lulled to rest in the

arms of

"Tired nature's kind restorer, balmy sleep."

Tantalus forgot his undying thirst; the ever revolving fiery wheel of Ixion stopped; the vulture ceased to gratify its rapacious hunger on the vitals of Tityus—while Proserpine, and even inexorable Pluto, were constrained to grant his request.

Such, it was once believed, was the power of music. And even in our age, upon a Jenny Lind, Nature bestows and Art improves, a talent for music, until her name is wafted by on every breeze and stamped on every electric flash, while congregated thousands hang with rapture upon the thrilling strains of her bewitching voice.

VOLCANOES.

Original.

BY A STUDENT.

"Why want we these enconiums on the storm
Or famine, or volcanoes? They perform
Their mighty deeds; they, hero-like, can slay,
And spread their ample deserts in a day."

"Subterraneous minerals ferment, and cause earthquakes, and furious eruptions of volcanoes which tumble down broken rocks."

THE most remarkable, the most terrific and destructive to animated existence, the most truly grand and sublime, and withal the most mysterious of the operations of Nature, as exibited in this sublunary sphere, are, perhaps, the eruptions of volcanoes. The terrific attending phenomena, the dreadful ravages and illimitable wretchedness they produce, are truly appalling; and the mysteriousness of their origin and continuation, may well form the theme of the poet, and be made the object of research by the geologist.

A volcano is an aperture or opening in the earth, caused by the explosions of subterranean fire, through which issue vapor, smoke, scoria, torrents of melted metal, rivers of lava, showers of red-hot stones, enormous rocks, clouds of ashes and cinders, multifarious gases, and water and mud, accompanied with thunder, lightning, dismal darkness, frequent concussions of the earth, and unearthly subterranean bellowings.

These openings are generally through massive mountains. But few instances are given of volcanic eruptions in the midst of plains; though we have many accounts of submarine eruptions, but yet their apertures have been ascertained to be elevated above the surrounding bottom of the sea. From the summit of volcanic mountains rises, most generally, a truncated cone, through which, diverging toward the top, an immense cavity penetrates into the bowels of the mountain, called the crater. This crater, or opening, is of vast size, sometimes two and three miles in diameter.

The volcanic mountains are of various forms; some are pyramidal, some are conical, and others have no specific shape. One characteristic of volcanees seems to be, that they are all situated near some large body of water, invariably; from which it is concluded that water is an efficient agent in producing this remarkable phenomenon. And it is found that all extinct craters are more or less distant from any body of water, and that, as the water recedes from the shore the volcanoes are found to die away. Some of these mountains are completely detached from all others, while some are entirely surrounded by huge mountains and in ranges. In this respect there is a decided difference between the old and new world, being, in the old world, isolated or detached, and scattered at every point over the continent, and in the new they are almost invariably connected with other mountains and in large ranges, extended in an almost right line along the coast. It is supposed by eminent geologists that all volcanoes, and indeed all mountains, continents, and even all land, were once submerged, and that, for their present existence, they are indebted to volcanic influence, in some form or other, either to its expanding or eruptive power. Of the truth of this supposition there are many cogent arguments, and the materials for others more conclusive, are rapidly being developed, each year adding new lustre to the theory. That some islands, and many volcanoes and other mountains have thus had their origin, is an undisputed fact, as there are those, even now living, who were eye witnesses of their birth, with all the accompanying dreadful phenomena.

Though the crater is usually at the summit of the mountain, yet it is not always the case, as the immense weight of the column of fused rock

or lava, before rising to the summit, forces a passage in a lateral direction, and in some cases is such as to burst the mountain asunder, rending it from vertex to base. When thus bursting through the sides, and particularly when forming several sets at different elevations from the base, the column above giving increased velocity to the liquid stream, and seen with a background of impenetrable darkness caused by the huge clouds of dense smoke discharged, it presents to the beholder a scene of awful grandeur and sublimity, far exceeding, in thrilling interest, and totally eclipsing, the brilliant corruscations of lambent meteors, or of the aurora-borealis. What fire-works of art can awaken such emotions of wonder and awe as is inspired in the bosom by such a spectacle? Our ideas, aye, our ideals are surpassed, and we feel the insignificance of man! Even the description is he not able to express beggaring both the pen and pencil. At these tremendous ejectments, much of the matter, being thrown perpendicularly, falls into the crater, forming at its bottom embryo volcanoes, which, increasing at every eruption, rear their summits above the vertex of the old volcanoes, unite, usurp the throne, and reign uncontrolled until they are in like manner succeeded.

Of volcanoes there are really but two kinds, though three are mentioned those are fire, mud, and pseudo. The latter is not, as its name implies, really a volcano, being merely the combustion of immense coal beds, which rarely, if ever, explode. There are but few entirely mud volcanoes, and these are all situate in the eastern continent-principally in Asia, though there is a noted one in Sicily. The accompanying phenomena of the eruptions of these volcanoes are less terrific than those of fire, but in their immediate districts they are equally destructive to man and the labors of his hands. Subterraneous noises, like distant thunder, precede their eruption, and at their craters may be heard the ebullition of the mud, as the boiling of fat. The noises, in time, become more and more distinct, increasing in volume and pitch, until a deafening sound is heard, as the discharge of artillery, and instantly, as if by magic, a huge column of mud is projected perpendicularly from the crater, thousands of feet in the air, and continually de scending from the uppermost part, assumes the shape of a majestic fire.

As it falls, it is precipitated down the mountain's side, inundating the surrounding country. At one of these eruptions 100,000 cubic feet were thrown out.

Of all volcanoes, however, those of fire are the most numerous, the most grand, and the most terrifying and dreadful in their ravages. Usually, though not always, they give infallible evidences of an approaching eruption; when not given, (instances of which are recorded,) universal and certain destruction to animated beings, in their immediate vicinity, is the inevitable result. But commonly they are preceded by low, rumbling sounds, increased activity of the subterranean fire, great sheets of fire shoot above the mountain's summit, followed by dense clouds of smoke; stupendous rocks are now and then discharged, and terror and despair are fearfully depicted on every countenance, and populous cities are threatened with immediate and overwhelming destruction. The deafening roar becomes more deafening still; nearer and nearer the sound approaches, like the raging of the tempests, the murmur of a troubled sea, the bewildering roar of thunder, and the deafening peals of discharged artillery, commingled. Suddenly, like the water from a gushing fountain, the liquid fire darts from the mountain's summit high into the air, or spouts, with extraordinary velocity, through its side; ashes, cinders and smoke, in immense masses, are rolled up from its bowels, and scattered to the four winds of Heaven; rocks and stones are hurled into the mass above; the lightning dashes with undaunted fury from the heterogeneous mass, and the fiery cataract, rushing down the mountain's side, deluges the plains below-filling lakes, drying rivers, prostrating forests, swallowing cities, consuming thousands of inhabitants, and converting fields, "that blossomed as the rose," into barren deserts or stagnant lakes. These lakes are frequently from thirty to forty miles long, from seven to eight miles broad, and from two hundred to three hundred feet in depth. Nor can the previous fruitful and prosperous condition of the country be easily restored, as the lava continues, sometimes, to burn for forty or fifty years, and even for a century. It is estimated that two thousand years are necessary for its transformation into productive matter. It is thought that it is not an over-estimate to say there are a thousand active volcanoes in the world.