Grave Creek.-Selzerstown.-Fort Hill.

which, like the celebrated structure at the mouth of Grave Creek, in Virginia, rise to the height of seventy feet, and measure one thousand feet in circumference at the base. The great

mound at Selzerstown, Mississippi, is computed to cover six acres of ground. Mounds of these extraordinary dimensions are most common at the South, though there are some at the North of great size. The usual dimensions are, however, considerably less than the examples here given. The greater number range from six to thirty feet in perpendicular height, by forty to one hundred feet in diameter at the base.

"The embankment known as Fort Hill, in Highland county, Ohio, is one of the most interesting relics of the kind. The defences occupy the summit of a hill which is five hundred feet above the bed of Brush Creek, which flows at its base. Running along the edge of the hill, is an embankment of mingled earth and stone, interrupted at intervals by gateways. Interior to this is a ditch, from which the material composing the wall was taken. The length of the wall is eight thousand two hundred and twenty-four feet, or something over a mile and a half. In height, measuring from the bottom of the ditch, it varies from six to ten feet, though at some places it rises to the height of fifteen feet. Its average base is thirty-five or forty feet. It is thrown up somewhat below the brow of the hill, the level of the terrace being generally about even with the top of the wall-but in some places it rises considerably above. The outer slope of the wall is more abrupt than that of the hill; the earth and stones from the ditch, sliding down fifty or a hundred feet, have formed a declivity for that distance, so steep as to be difficult of ascent, even with the aid which the trees and bushes afford. The ditch has an average width of not far from fifty feet; and in many places is dug through the sandstone layer upon which the soil of

Magnitude of the undertaking.—Probable antiquity.

the terrace rests. The inner declivity of the ditch appears to have been terraced.

"Such are the more striking features of this interesting work. Considered in a military point of view, as a work of defence, it is well chosen, well guarded, and, with an adequate force, impreg nable to any mode of attack practised by a rude or semi-civilized people. As a natural stronghold, it has few equals; and the degree of skill displayed, and the amount of labour expended in constructing its artificial defences, challenge our admiration and excite our surprise. With all the facilities and numerous mechanical appliances of the present day, the construction of a work of this magnitude would be no insignificant undertaking.

"The evidence of antiquity afforded by the aspect of the forest, is worthy of more than a passing notice. Actual examination showed the existence of not far from two hundred annual rings or layers, in a large chestnut-tree now standing on the intrenchments. This would give nearly six hundred years as the age of the tree. If to this we add the probable period intervening from the time of the building of this work and its abandonment, and the subsequent period up to its invasion by the forest, we are led irresistibly to the conclusion that it has an antiquity of at least one thousand years. But when we notice, all around us, the crumbling trunks of trees, half hidden in the accumulating soil, we are induced to fix upon an antiquity still more remote." Their erection is ascribed, with most probability, to the Toltecan race, whose monuments are to be found in great numbers in Mexico.

The term music.—Universality of its appreciation.

Musir.

THE term music is now restricted to the art, which, by the modulation, succession, and combination of sounds, seeks to imitate nature, and to affect the soul with every emotion of which it is capable. We daily perceive, in common life, the germs from which it grew up. Nature seems to have established an intimate connexion between the emotions and the sense of hearing. Of the two nobler senses, sight and hearing, the former seems to belong more particularly to the understanding. We owe to the eye, and to abstractions from the images which it presents, most of our general notions and ideas; while the ear appears to be more intimately connected with the feelings. Feeling expresses itself most readily in tones. Fear, joy, anger, have each a peculiar sound, understood by all human beings. Every musical production, to deserve the name, must be expressive of emotions, and, through them, of ideas. But though music exists wherever the human species are found, it does not follow that every good piece of music must please all men alike, or be understood by all alike, for music is an art, requiring cultivation both of the mind and heart, to appreciate it fully. Still, however, music of the most elevated kind retains so much of its character of universality, that the productions of the greatest masters delight much more generally than the best performances in other arts.

Susceptibility to rhythm.-Technical sense.

Insensibility to music may generally be referred to a defective organization in the sense of hearing; but the whole conformation of some men is probably much better fitted, than that of others, to enable them to receive pleasure from it. But in proof that a full appreciation of melody and rhythm may exist, where the faculty of comprehending and receiving pleasure from complicated harmonies is dormant, we may instance Pope, Dr. Johnson, Sir Walter Scott, and Lord Byron, none of whom could comprehend the mazy involutions of modern music, while to rhythm and simple melody, they were highly susceptible.

The effects of music are sometimes said to be merely sensual. It is addressed to the ear, indeed; but all influences from without are conveyed through the medium of the senses, and the tones of music often speak a language to the soul, richer in meaning than any words. It will hardly be pretended that feelings which cannot be expressed in words, are necessarily of a lower character than those which may be so expressed. The most elevated emotions are beyond the power of even metaphorical language. Nothing is merely sensual which makes a lasting spiritual impression upon the soul; and he who denies to music such a power, has not heard its sublimest strains, or has not the capacity to appreciate them.

Music, considered in its technical sense, rests on mathematics and acoustics. It operates in space and time, in such a way as to be susceptible of mathematical measurement. Tones, considered merely as to their duration, are magnitudes of time, which stand in a descending geometrical progression. In space, tones can be considered as magnitudes of sound, and their distances from each other in the scale, are expressed in numbers, which have reference to a mathematical division of the space between two sounds, adopted as limits-the octave, the third, seventh, &c.

Rhythm.-Melody.-Harmony.

Similar proportions exist between the various voices—the treble, bass, &c.—and between the various keys. In instrumental music, the depth and height of the tones depend upon the proportions of the thickness, length, and lightness of the chords, in stringed instruments; the quality, diameter, and distance of the openings, in wind instruments, and the like; and all these proportions can be determined and measured according to mathematical rules. This regularity may perhaps afford the reason why the effects of music are so general, and its influence on the nerves so powerful. The same circumstance renders it incapable of expressing those fine shades of feeling which can be communicated only by the aid of reflection.

Music is based on rhythm, melody, and harmony. Rhythm is a succession of sounds in measured time--it is to the ear, what symmetrical proportions are to the eye. A faculty for rhythm may exist where there is little or no power of appreciating melody, or harmony. We find a fondness for rhythm among savage tribes, who know little else of music. With them it is generally combined with dancing, and is sometimes only signified by a regular clapping of hands. Melody is a succession of sounds in measured time, and at harmonic intervals. Harmony is the mixture of single diatonic sounds: it requires ordinarily much care and attention to comprehend its beauties, which are purely of an intellectual character. Melody alone awakens the feelings of love, joy, pity, grief, &c. Harmony or rhythm cannot express these, though they may add greatly to their effect. It was said by Dr. Burney, that, after harmony and melody had been heard together, nothing could compensate for their separation.

As precise divisions in sciences or arts, or any of the departments of human action, grow up slowly, and kindred branches are at first usually mingled, it is highly probable that dancing