HE earthquake which was felt at the beginning of November last over a wide area of the Austrian dominions, though not one of those appalling calamities which leave a mark in history, was nevertheless a very distressing local disaster. Its effects were felt over an area measuring four degrees of latitude and five of longitude, and its force displayed at the town of Agram, near its centre, was sufficient to cause a vast amount of destruction. From Vienna to Trieste and Pola, from Pesth to Laibach and Marburg, the waves of disturbance extended, and though their effect in most places was confined to the natural alarm of the inhabitants, in Agram many public buildings and 200 dwellings were wrecked, while scarcely a house in the town escaped without injury, more or less serious.

Agram, the capital of Croatia, is a town of 20,000 persons, nearly 300 miles south of Vienna, and 100 miles inland from Trieste. It was on the 9th November that the earthquakes began throughout Southern Austria, three shocks occurring at Agram that day, but the first, at 7.14 a.m., was the most formidable, and lasted about ten seconds; the next, also severe, occurred at 7.30; while the third, the weakest, took place at 8.28 a.m. The first shock is described as

circular. It was followed by violent oscillations from north-northeast to south-south-west. After it the whole town was covered by a dense cloud of dust caused by the falling down of chimneys, walls, and houses, in every direction. Two churches-the Cathedral (one of the oldest and most interesting ecclesiastical structures in the Austrian Empire, consecrated so long ago as 1217), and the Church of St. George-fell in, the larger and more massive buildings seeming to have suffered most. The first shock, on the 9th November, affected principally the upper town, where the old fortress, situated

on a hillock which projects into the Valley of the Save, and containing the State buildings, greatly suffered. There was another violent earthquake two days later, on the 11th, and this more affected the lower town, which is built on the plain. The scenes of dismay and confusion were both sad and strange. Thousands left the town by rail: others encamped during the night, in the piercing cold and dense fog, around the watch-fires in the two spacious squares; while the remainder fled far away into the open country. The whole population was agitated with one fear lest the earth should open and swallow them up. The misery was indescribable, though the actual loss of life was less than a score of persons.

In connection with these earthquake shocks, some wonderful phenomena were, it may be added, observed at Resnick, about seven miles. from Agram. There a number of fountains of hot water and mud burst out from the earth. These geysers, which resembled the well. known hot springs in Iceland, were, however, only temporary. It was also noticed that all the rivers and streams, within a certain distance round Agram, suddenly rose more than a yard above their previous and usual level.

There is probably, in the world's experience, no natural phenomenon whose effect on the human mind is more terrifying than that of an earthquake. Its rarity, its suddenness, its infinite potentialities of destruction, its uncontrollable force, and the complete obscurity of its immediate causes, all combine to give it that aspect of mysterious terror which at one time invested all the forces of nature. In the presence of an earthquake the wisest of men are helpless, the strongest powerless, and all alike are struck with that awe of nature's power which makes the religion of the savage and the superstition of ignorant men. Slight shocks of earthquake, tremblings almost imperceptible of the soil on which we live, are probably common enough in most parts of the world. In a great city they may often be undistinguishable from the rumbling of a heavy waggon along the streets; and, happily, there are many portions of the earth's sur face which, if experience is any guide, may be regarded as practically safe from the severer and more destructive forms of terrestrial convulsion. But until we know the true cause of earthquakes and their relation to other terrestrial phenomena, it is impossible to set an absolute limit either to the region of their occurrence or to the probable extent of their effects. For this reason, the slightest shock of earthquake is as terrible for the moment as those gigantic convulsions, happily rare, which engulf cities or devastate half a continent. It may pass away and be no more felt, or it may be the forerunner of sudden and vast destruction, from which there is no escape. When

houses are falling and their walls are rocking and gaping, the bravest man may be excused if he shares the panic of his more timid neighbours. All men have heard what earthquakes have done, and none can tell, when the shock occurs, how soon he may share the fate of the thirteen millions of human beings who are said to have perished in these convulsions.

Destructive as it has been, the earthquake at Agram is comparatively a mild specimen of its class. In Sicily and the Southern part of Italy, in Central America, at Constantinople and the adjacent parts

of Asia Minor, earthquakes have occurred, in quite recent times, compared with which the disturbance in Croatia becomes almost insignicant. If we could measure such calamities merely by the number of the slain, the earthquake at Agram, would take very low rank indeed.

It is unnecessary to tell once more the well-known story of the great earthquake at Lisbon in 1755, which destroyed more than 50,000 persons in less than ten minutes, and ranks, according to any standard, as one of the most appalling natural catastrophes ever recorded in the history of the world. The gigantic convulsion of which Lisbon was virtually the centre, extended over a surface of the earth estimated by Humboldt as equal to four times the extent of Europe. For extension in space, therefore, the earthquake of Lisbon is probably without a rival, but for duration in time it is immeasurably surpassed by the less celebrated, but scarcely less remarkable, earthquake of New Madrid, in the valley of the Mississippi, which lasted almost incessantly during several months in 1811 and 1812, and culminated, in the spring of the latter year, in the instant and total destruction of the city of Caracas, with 12,000 inhabitants. An earthquake not altogether dissimilar in its nature and extent to that of Agram, though a good deal more destructive, will be specially remembered by many as having occurred at Broussa, in Asia Minor, at the time of the Crimean War, in the early part of 1855. Constantinople was then full of Englishmen, some of whom will still vividly remember the consternation caused in the city by the convulsion, which, though it did no damage in Constantinople itself, almost reduced the city of Broussa to ruins, and caused the death of several hundreds of its inhabitants. Of 125 mosques, many of them dating from the time when Broussa was the capital of the Turkish Empire, not one escaped uninjured, and one of the most ancient and venerated was totally destroyed. The old Saracenic wall was thrown down, and crushed in its overthrow the poor and crowded habitations which clustered beneath its shelter. A second shock completed the ruin begun by the first, and several destructive fires broke out amid the inflammable materials of the shattered houses. A later and far more destructive series of earthquakes occurred in Southern Italy and Sicily, in the winter of 1857-8. The loss of life in these disasters was immense, and many towns in Calabria were reduced to ruins and rendered unhabitable. This European convulsion was almost immediately followed by a destructive earthquake in Mexico, in June, 1858; and in March, 1859, the city of Quito was almost entirely destroyed, with a loss of about 5,000 lives. By far the most calamitous convulsion of recent times, however, was that which occurred in South America, in August, 1868. In Peru, 2,000 and in Ecuador 20,000 persons were estimated to have perished. The towns of Arica, Arequipa, Islay, Iquique, Pisco, Juancavelica, Ibarra, and several others, were totally destroyed, and the loss of property was estimated at £60,000,000. Arica, which was reckoned to be the centre of the disturbance, was first ruined by an

ordinary shock, and then overwhelmed by a tidal wave, which found ships anchored in eight fathoms and left them stranded with six feet of water alongside. A second wave broke over the grounded vessels destroying most of them, and throwing others several hundred feet above high-water mark. At Arequipa the motion was so violent that persons standing could not keep their feet. The houses first rocked like ships in the trough of the sea, and then came crumbling down. There were nineteen minor shocks before the disturbance subsided. Central and South America, it is true, may almost be regarded as the natural home of earthquakes, but this particular calamity of 1868 was one of the most destructive in a long record of destruction.

It cannot be said that much has yet been ascertained by science as to the exact cause and real nature of earthquakes. That they are due to an explosive convulsion, which sets the solid material of the earth's outer surface in undulatory vibration, is pretty clear, and many accurate observations have been taken of the force and direction of the vibrations. But the causes of the explosive convulsion, and the conditions under which it occurs, are still debated among men of science. The connection between earthquakes and volcanoes is probably a real one, and more or less direct, though it is still to a great extent indeterminate. Indeed, the theory of volcanic action is itself by no means so complete as to furnish a satisfactory basis for the elucidation of associated phenomena. It may be observed, that many of the most destructive earthquakes on record have been those whose centres of disturbance were not very far removed from the sea; and this fact suggests a comparison with the corresponding observation, that all, or nearly all, the existing volcanoes of the world are situated at no great distance from the coast. But the observation of existing sources of volcanic action does not, as Professor Geikie contends, afford a complete account of the matter. There are regions of vast extent where volcanic action, now extinct, may be traced on a large scale, though it is evident that its nature was widely different from that with which we are familiar in existing volcanoes. Similarly, though earthquakes are more common and more destructive in the neighbourhood of the sea, it is so far impossible to say whether this connection is more than accidental. The whole question constitutes an intricate problem of terrestrial physics, and probably the data necessary for its complete solution are not as yet available. In such a twilight of knowledge, it is no wonder that an earthquake, almost independently of its actual effects, still remains one of the most terrifying of natural phenomena. In presence of it, the wisest among us are still as the men of old, who knew nothing of nature save as an awful and inscrutable power.*

* Compiled from The Times, and other sources.