First Impression of an Earthquake.

--Before we quit this great phenomenon, we must advert to that indescribable, deep, and peculiar impression which the first earthquake that we experience makes upon us, even when unaccompanied with subterranean noises.

The impression is not, I believe, the consequence of any recollection of destructive catastrophes presented to our imagination by historical narratives.

That which seizes upon us so wonderfully is the disabuse of our innate faith in the firmness of the solid and sure-set foundations of the earth.

From infancy, we are accustomed to the contrast between the moveable element of water, and the immutability of the soil on which we stand--a belief confirmed by the evidences of our senses.

But, when the ground suddenly rocks beneath us, the feeling of an unknown mysterious power in nature coming into action, and shaking the solid globe, arises in the mind.

The illusion of our early life is instantaneously annihilated.

We are undeceived as to the repose of nature; we feel ourselves transported to the realm, and subjected to the empire of destructive, unknown powers.

Every sound--the slightest rustle in the air--sets attention on the rack, and we no longer trust the earth on which we stand.

The unusualness of the phenomenon throws the same anxious unrest and alarm over the lower animals.

Swine and dogs are particularly affected by it; and the very crocodiles of the Orinoco, otherwise as dumb as our lizards, leave the trembling bed of the stream, and rush bellowing into the woods.

To man, the earthquake is something unlimited and all-pervading.

We can remove from the active crater of a volcano; we can escape from the flood of lava that is pouring down upon our dwelling; but with the earthquake we feel that, whithersoever we fly, we are still over the hearth of destruction.--Humboldt's Kosmos.