Delphi, adding to the veneration which prompted such multitudes to visit the temple of Apollo, the splendour of which in marble and in statues of gold and silver, was for many ages unequalled in Greece. There is an echo on the estate of the Marquis of Simonelta, near Milan, which reiterates the last syllable fifty-six times: Misson states a hundred times. It is described by Kircher and Bartholin. Montfaucon says that the report of a gun is repeated so as to be heard like the running fire of a company of soldiers; and another traveller relates, that any single musical instrument, well touched, will have the same effect as a great number of instruments, and produce a most delightful concert." 66 In the garden of the Tuileries there was an artificial echo, which repeated a whole verse without the loss of a syllable; and the mausoleum of Cecilia, daughter of Metellus, is said to have repeated an entire verse of hexameter. But among the hermitages of Montserrat, particularly near that of Santissima Trinidad, the rocks return such perfect echoes that the birds are said to warble in answer to the reverberations of their own music. The natives of Cuba, in the time of Columbus, thought that echoes were the responses made by the souls of their departed friends. Ossian calls Echo "the son of the rock." The Highlanders believed, and do so to the present day, that the repercussions of sound from a rock are the answers of a spirit residing in its bosom. Nothing can be more beautiful than Ossian's address to the echo in his battle of Lora; the allusion to his own misfortune, too, is highly natural and affecting: "Son of the distant land, who dwellest in the secret cell! do I hear the sound of the wind, or is it the voice of songs? But I heard a tuneful voice. Dost thou praise the chiefs of thy land, or the spirits of the wind? But, lonely dweller of rocks! look thou on that heathy plain. Thou seest green tombs, with their rank whistling grass; with their stones' mossy heads. Thou seest them, son of the rock, but Ossian's eyes have failed!" The Syrians styled Echo "the daughter of voice;" Euripides," the child of the mountains;" Lucretius, who beautifully describes the scenes where Echo loves to dwell, calls her "the image of speech;" Shakspeare," the babbling gossip of the air;" and Milton, speaking of her, says she shall give sounding grace to all heaven's harmonies." 66 re Vaillant relates that the Nimiguas of South Africa play upon an instrument resembling a flute, in such a manner as to produce melodious echoes. This is effected by the musician shifting the instrument from his mouth to his nostrils; when, continuing to blow as before, the wind that issues from the nostrils resembles an echo so exactly, that those who listen are equally surprised and delighted. Struck with the pleasing effects of echo in the music of Nature, the poets, formed by her hand and guided by her teachings, were emulous to imitate her. Hence the origin of rhyme, and hence that species of verse among the Greek and Roman poets which was characterized by the repetition of the last syllable. The echoicus has been but little attempted by the English poets, but has been successfully cultivated by the Spanish. To echoes are doubtless to be ascribed many of the prodigies related by the Roman historians. Rome, from being built on several hills, must have been particularly favourable to these reverberations of sound; and this may, in a great measure, account for the extraordinary noises that are reported to have been heard in the city at particular crises, and which were considered by that superstitious people as so many supernatural portents. MUSIC OF THE SPHERES. THE ethereal music of echoes naturally calls to mind Plato's idea in relation to the harmonious movements of the planets, which he terms the music of the spheres: a harmony resulting from the motions of the planets, and modulated by their relative distances and magnitudes. This idea is not only beautiful, but in all probability just. Proclus carried the notion so far as to suppose that even the growth of plants is attended with sound. Every object that moves produces a greater or less vibration in the atmosphere. Observing this, Archytas, Pythagoras, and Plato conceived it to be impossible that bodies so large as the planets, and revolving in orbits so vast, should move without some audible repercussions; so that the heavens might be said to produce a concert, to which the gods themselves might delight in listening. "A melody," says Maximus Tyrius, "too transcendent for the frailty of man, and the excellence of which ethereal beings are alone capable of appreciating." How beautifully does Shakspeare allude to this poetical thought, where Lorenzo leads Jessica into the grove, and, after desiring Stephano to order music to be brought into the garden, accosts her in the following manner : "Soft stillness and the night Is thick inlaid with patterns of bright gold. There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st, But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubim. But, while this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it." This idea is in some measure sanctioned by the Hebrew Scriptures: "the stars move in their course rejoicing," ,” “when the morning stars sang together," and other analogous expressions, would seem to allude to this celestial harmony. Servius says that the idea of this music originated with Orpheus, and that the Pythagoreans affirmed that their master was the only human being ever permitted to hear it. There is a passage in Euripides, where he exclaims, "Thee I invoke, thou self-created Being, who gave birth to Nature, and whom light and darkness, and the whole train of globes and planets, encircle with eternal music." Fontenelle remarks, that it was believed in ancient times that the moon was the appointed residence for the souls of the good men of this earth, whose principal happiness consisted in listening to the music of the spheres. LANGUAGE OF BIRDS. Or all the feathered inhabitants of the forest or of the water, none cause so great astonishment, we are told, as the toll of the campanero. When all other birds are silent, the forest is still cheered by this bird. "You hear his toll," says Waterton, "and then there is a pause for a minute; then another toll, and then a pause again; and then a toll, and again a pause. Then he is silent for six or eight minutes, and then there is another toll, and so on. Orpheus himself would drop his lute to listen to him, so sweet, so novel and romantic, is the toll of the pretty snow-white campanero. He is neve rseen to feed with the other cotingas, nor is it known in what part of Guiana he makes his nest." BIRDS possess so much of an imitative faculty, that they can be taught the language of men as well as the melodies of artificial music. Beasts have no such power; and yet they are not totally unsuscep tible of musical impressions, as has frequently been seen in cats, dogs, horses, elephants, and rattlesnakes. Without giving credit to the fables of Ælian or to the fancies of Schotteus, many stories are related of the susceptibility of animals to the charms of melody, which are attested by credible witnesses, and recorded by writers of indubitable authority. The voices of birds may be divided into croaking, chattering, clucking, screaming, and singing. The note of the raven is hoarse and disagreeable, yet it may be taught to speak and to sing after the manner of men. The magpie, which has a natural chattering, may be instructed in the same manner; also the starling, the natural language of which is harsh and rather discordant. The cry of the owl is solemn, and calls to courtship; such, too, is the object of the cuckoo, when, in a style agreeable and mellow, yet monotonous, it announces the return of spring. The cooing of turtles is exceedingly soft, and the tears they are reported to shed endear them to our best affections. The plover allures the dog and his master from her nest. Flying from it, she endeavours to draw them away by her cries and wailings. When near it, she ceases to cry, overcome with fear, or endeavouring to deceive them by her apparent indifference. As the smallest insects have the greatest strength in proportion to their size, so birds have a louder voice, compared with their dimensions, than any other species of animal. The voice of the Brazilian anhima is exceedingly loud, while the cry of the cock of the wood, which has been compared to an explosion, is succeeded by a noise like the whetting of scythes. The cries of marine birds on a summer's evening, heard from a bold and rocky coast, are peculiarly striking. Swelling upon the breeze, the higher notes of the gull, the tenor of the auk, and the bass of the cormorant, united to the murmur of the |