To man the earthquake conveys an idea of some universal and unlimited
danger. We may flee from the crater of a volcano in active eruption, or
from the dwelling whose destruction is threatened by the approach of the
lava stream; but in an earthquake, direct our flight whithersoever we will,
we still feel as if we trod upon the very focus of destruction. This
condition of the mind is not of long duration, although it takes its origin
in the deepest recesses of our nature; and when a series of faint shocks
succeed one another, the inhabitants of the country soon lose every trace of
fear. On the coasts of Peru, where rain and hail are unknown, no less than
the rolling thunder and the flashing lightning, these luminous explosions of
the atmosphere are replaced by the subterranean noises which accompany
earthquakes.*
[footnote] *["Along the whole coast of Peru the atmosphere is almost
uniformly in a state of repose. It is not illuminated by the lightning's
flash, or disturbed by the roar of the thunder; no deluges of rain, no
fierce hurricanes, destroy the fruits of the fields, and with them the hopes
of the husbandman. But the mildness of the elements above ground is
frightfully counterbalanced by their subterranean fury. Lima is frequently
visited by earthquakes, and several times the city has been reduced to a
mass of ruins.
Pages:
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455