.

It is not necessary here to dwell minutely on the disgusting alteration which the human beings, now particularized, undergo: those who are desirous of such information may consult a very recent work by Dr. James Johnson °. All that is here intended is a statement of the general fact. And it appears that, in the milder instances, the principal alteration which takes place is an enlargement of the thyreoïd gland; which enlargement is by medical men called bronchocele, and by the inhabitants of the Alps goitre P. In the instances of extreme alteration, the stature rarely reaches the height of five feet; the skin becomes unnaturally discoloured, and disfigured by eruptions; the limbs distorted; and the cretin, for so he is denominated in this state, is frequently, in addition, both deaf and dumb, and entirely idiotic. Between the state of simple goitre and that of most perfect cretinism the degree of alterations are innumerable. And, as indicating the connexion between this unnatural state of the individual, and the atmosphere which he habitually respires, the following observation is worthy of attention. "In the

o Change of Air, &c. by James Johnson, M. D. London, 8vo. 1831.

P Such an enlargement we often in this country witness in individuals, who, in every other respect, are so far from being deformed, that they are frequently remarkable both on account of their beauty, and the symmetry and full developement of their whole body.

"Vallais," and "in the lower gorges or ravines "that open on its sides, both cretinism and goitre prevail in the most intense degrees: as we as"cend the neighbouring mountains, cretinism disappears, and goitre only is observed; and "when we reach a certain altitude, both mala"dies vanish 9."

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Among the physical effects of the motion of the air, that of sound is among the most remarkable and important: of the intimate nature of which, however, and of the laws that regulate its transmission, I should not speak more particularly, even if I felt myself competent to the task; being a subject of too abstruse a character in itself to claim a close investigation in a treatise like the present: besides which, it will be examined in a separate treatise by others. Whatever may be the moral effects either of simple sounds, or of certain combinations of sounds, and such effects though apparently of a fugitive character are occasionally very powerful, there can be no doubt that particular sounds act physically on our frame. Thus the gentle murmur of running water, or the repetition of any simple tone, even though not agreeable in itself, is calculated to soothe the whole nervous system so as to induce sleep. There are few perhaps who have not experienced such an effect, from long continued attention to a public q Change of Air &c. p. 58.

speaker; and an apparent, though probably not the legitimate, proof of the effect having been produced by the sound of the voice of the speaker is derived from the fact, that, upon his ceasing to speak, the sleeper usually awakes. There are few, again, who have not known from personal experience that certain tones affect the teeth with that peculiar and unpleasant sensation familiarly described under the term, set on edge. Even in the appalling sensation excited by thunder, the mind is probably overawed by the physical effect produced on the nervous system by the crash, rather than by any apprehension of danger from the thunder itself: for that sensation is usually excited even in those who are most assured that no danger is to be expected from the loudest crash of the thunder, but only from the lightning which accompanies it. Nor is it unreasonable to suppose that an analogy exists between the sense of hearing and the other senses, with reference to the objects of their several sensations: and since in the case of taste, of sight, of smell, and of touch, some objects are on reasonable grounds conjectured to be naturally offensive, while others are agreeable to the respective senses; why, it may be asked, should not the same relations hold with respect to the ear and the peculiar objects of its sensation? Evelyn well observes, that the bountiful Creator has left none of the senses which

he has not gratified at once with their most agreeable and proper objects.

Of all the objects of sense, sound perhaps, as a principle of mental association, the most powerfully excites a recollection of past scenes and feelings. Shakspeare briefly elucidates this principle in these lines:

"Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news
"Hath but a losing office; and his tongue
"Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
"Remembered knolling a departed friend.”

HENRY IV. Part II. Act I. Scene 1.

The author of the "Pleasures of Memory" not less forcibly illustrates the same principle.

"The intrepid Swiss, who guards a foreign shore,
"Condemned to climb his mountain cliffs no more,
"If chance he hear the song so sweetly wild,
"Which on those cliffs his infant hours beguiled,
"Melts at the long-lost scenes that round him rise,
"And sinks a martyr to repentant sighs."

ROGERS, &c. page 21, line 1.

Nor is the principle less powerfully illustrated in that most beautiful Psalm beginning with the words, “By the waters of Babylon we sat down "and wept:" for who can read that affecting apostrophe, "How shall we sing the Lord's "song in a strange land," without entering into all the pathos of the scene represented by the sacred poet to the imagination?

It is said to be the opinion of the Hindoos,

and though not of much value in argument, there is at least a metaphysical elegance in the opinion, that the remarkable effects of music on the human mind depend on its power of recalling to the memory the airs of paradise, heard in a state of preexistence.

But, if an individual instance of the truth of the present position were to be selected, it would not be possible perhaps to find one more impressive than that which has been recorded of the late emperor of the French. It is said that at that period of his life, when the consequences of his infatuated conduct had fully developed themselves in unforeseen reverses, Napoleon, driven to the necessity of defending himself within his own kingdom with the shattered remnant of his army, had taken up a position at Brienne, the very spot where he had received the rudiments of his early education; when, unexpectedly, and while he was anxiously employed in a practical application of those military principles which first exercised the energies of his young mind in the college of Brienne, his attention was arrested by the sound of the church clock. The pomp of his imperial court, and even the glories of Marengo and of Austerlitz, faded for a moment from his regard, and almost from his recollection. Fixed for a while to the spot on which he stood, in motionless attention to the well known sound, he at length gave