Irish potatoes are thus classified : "Farmer's glory, red-nosed kidneys, white eyes, lady's fingers, Cork reds, Connaught jumpers, Wicklow ban gers, and Carrigaline beauties; to say nothing of the apples of Kilbourishane, the whites of Derry gortnacloghy, the cups of Knocknadrowsky, or the reds of Ballynaboulathrasanagh." "Stop, stop!" exclaimed Peter; "Irish potatoes are terrible jaw-breakers." "No such thing," said Connor, "no such thing; thim are the potatoes that would crack their own cheeks with laughing at ye. O then, how can you live at all in London, where the potatoes are made of wax, the new eggs out of ould Irish ones, and the milk's pumped from the body of the earth, so that ye can't tell it from water-bathershin!" We should like to see the following beautiful little poem fitted with a corresponding melody. THE MUSIC OF NATURE; OR, AN ATTEMPT TO PROVE THAT WHAT IS PASSIONATE AND PLEASING IN THE ART OF SINGING, SPEAKING, AND PERFORMING UPON MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS, IS DERIVED FROM THE SOUNDS OF THE ANIMATED WORLD. With Curious and Interesting Mustrations, by William Gardiner. Boston. This very able and valuable work, reprinted from the English edition of 1832, is an acceptable addition to the library of every bibliographer, to the shelves of the musical amateur and professor, to the cabinet of the lover of nature, and the bureau of the man of science. The varied nature of the matter, and the excellence of its manner, demand our utmost praise; every known variety of musical sound, the hitherto "unwrit ten music" of nature, is here presented to our view, in chromatic form and phrase; the history and properties of every musical instrument, the peculiarities of the vocality of every celebrated operatic performer, and the rare secrets of the " gay science," are exhibited in popular language and fulness of detail. Anecdotal illustrations and historical facts are plentifully adduced; and every page of the fifty-one chapters contains a mass of information pleasantly put forth. Besides the almost innumerable instances of the cries of birds and animals reduced to scale, this desirable volume contains nearly seventy pieces of scarce and popular music. The scarcity of new publications at the present time of the year, affords us an opportunity of presenting a considerable quotation of entertaining matter from the pages of the Music of Nature. INSECTS. The sounds which insects produce are numerous and curious. It is, probably, not generally known, that the noises which are supposed to proceed from their vocal organs, are actually made by rubbing their legs together, or by the motion of their wings. If we reflect for a moment upon that humming sound, which we hear from a cloud of insects overhead, in a summer's evening, we cannot suppose it proceeds from the combined voices of beings, scarcely perceptible," but that the buzz is the result of a motion, given to the air by the dances of these diminutive creatures. That keen observer, Mr. White of Selborne, says, "I have often heard a sound like the humming of bees, though not an insect is to be seen. You may hear it the whole common through, from the mossy dells to my avenue gate." Not undelightful is the ceaseless hum, It was on a hot summer's day that Beethoven sat upon a stile in the environs of Vienna, and caught from nature those imitative sounds in the Pastoral Sinfony. How admirably do the violins, in that extraordinary composition, represent the soft fluttering stir of the insects-the hum in the noon-tide warmth of a summer's day! If we watch the house fly, we shall soon be convinced that he is destitute of voice, and that the noise The existence of these diminutive creatures, who only appear in the evening, is said by Reaumur to terminate before the dawn of day; though short, it is a life of incessant pleasure. By naturalists they are now classed as choral flies, who congregate in millions, for the pleasures of music and the dance. proceeds from his wings; since, when at rest, he is always silent. This sound is invariably upon the note F in the first space : To produce this sound, the wings must make three hundred and twenty vibrations in a second of time, or nearly twenty thousand if he continues on the wing for one minute. The hum of the honey-bee is the same; and the large humble-bee, the contra-basso of the tribe, performs the same note just an octave lower: Huber remarks that in every hive there are bees whose office it is to ventilate, and supply a current of air throughout the apartments; and this is effected by ranks of fanners, who, in all the passes, keep up a constant tremulous motion of their wings. If the ear is placed on the outside of the hive, you may distinguish the mezzo tones that emanate from this host of fanners, who shed a mellow music from their odorous wings, which, on listening, will be found to be in the key of F. The writer was once placed in the gallery of the Royal Exchange, to view that hive of money collectors in the court below. Besides the similarity of the scene, he could not but notice the similarity of sound, the buzz of the two thousand voices being perceptibly amalgamated into the key of F. Many observations have led the author to the conclusion, that the most prevailing sounds in nature are to be referred to this key. Musicians, though not aware of this curious fact, have from all time been sensibly influenced by it. Scarcely an ancient composition appears in any other key, except its relative minor, for the first hundred years of the art,* The lively note of the cricket is greatly admired by the country people; their dull and silent evenings are much enlivened by the chirp of this companion of the hearth. It consists of three notes in rhythm, always forming a triplet in the key of B: This sound, according to Kirby and Spence, is produced by the insect rubbing his legs sharply together. The grasshopper is of the same species, but his note is less powerful. If we can believe what is related by the ancients of this delicate creature, as a race of musicians, they must have greatly degenerated. Plutarch tells us, that when Terpander was playing upon the lyre, at the Olympic games, and had enraptured his audience to the highest pitch of enthusiasm, a string of his lyre broke, and a cicada, or grasshopper, immediately perched on the bridge, and, by its voice, supplied the loss of the string, and saved the fame of the musician. In Surinam the Dutch call them lyre-players, because the sound resembles those of a vibrating wire. Anacreon describes this creature as the emblem of felicity-ever young and immortal, the offspring of Phoebus and the darling of the Muses. The Athenians kept them in cages, for the sake of their song, and called them the nightingales of the nymphs. As in the case of birds, the males only sing; hence Xenarchus used to ascribe their happiness to their having silent wives.t Some of the smallest insects send forth noises in the night-time, which may be distinctly heard. The death-watch is a sound resembling the tick of a watch, which proceeds from a small spider. In the dead of the night, its performance much annoys you when dropping asleep. A nice ear, by attentive listening, will determine that the sound proceeds from two insects, probably the male and female calling to each other; as the writer detected one to be on the note B flat, and the other on G:- In the West Indies, the giant cockroach is a noted reveller when the family are asleep. He makes a noise like a smart rapping of the knuckles on a table, three or four sometimes answering each other. On this account he is called the drummer; and they often beat up such a row, that none but good sleepers can rest for them. The gnat, for his size, produces the most powerful and audible tone. He may be called the trumpeter of the insect orchestra. The clear and well-defined note which he makes, is on A in the second space. In the night-time, on waking out of sleep, I have, at first, taken it for the sound of a post-horn at a remote distance. Had the ancients referred his note to a corresponding string upon the lyre, we should have had a clue to some of their musical scales, which at present lie hid in mystery. Naturalists differ in opinion as to the part of the insect which produces this sound. * In Queen Elizabeth's Virginal-book of four hundred folio pages, all the pieces are nearly confined to this key. There is not an instance of a sharp being placed at the clef. + Booth. The chapter on " London Cries," or street calls, is comically curious, but too local for our purpose. We select a few instances from "Exclamations," a chapter of peculiar worth. EXCLAMATIONS. The ear of the musician is constantly awake to every sort of sound, but none excite his attention more than the exclamations of the human voice-a class of sounds never noticed by the composers of a previous age We can scarcely turn over a page of Haydn, Mozart, or Beethoven, but we find traces of these passionate tones. In our conversation we often hear those expressions which delight us; but the sounds are too evanescent to be caught or readily set down in notes. In our deliberate expressions the tones are more decided, and are easily represented, as in the common salutation Haydn has given us a more elaborate instance of yawning in his 57th Quartett. Nor are we confined to simple expirations of this sort: we find the following specimen of an agreeable sneeze in the minuet of his Eighth Grand Sinfonia and in some other composition of his, we find the following satisfactory cough Among those of a less concordant nature, we may instance the brawling voices of three persons in a passion introduced by Beethoven in his Third Trio, Op. 9. Such a clatter of sounds indicate rage and ferocity: these tones escape us in the ebullitions of our worst passions, and are heard in the savage murmurs of wild beasts. HUMAN CRIES. We take but little interest in the cries of animals, except those of our own species. Children have no difficulty in expressing their wants, their pleasures, and pains, by their cries, long before they know the use or meaning of a word; and it is surprising to see with what energy they will evince the strongest passions. If we attend to these sounds, we shall soon discover what a fruitful source they have been, in giving hints to the composer and musician. The following is the puling cry of a spoiled child Adagio. * This and the next passage may be imitated by sliding the finger on the strings of a violoncello. Rossini has imitated the sobbing of a child in the pensive duet Ebbere per mia memoria, in Gazza Ladra. Madame de Stael informs us that Crocodiles imitate the cry of children so perfectly, as to allure and entrap their mothers. In the following strain we may notice the little spiteful voice of one child wantonly teasing another ya-e ya e ya-e ya! The fugue in the overture to the Zauberflote, is obviously taken from a petulant feeling of this kind. It is said of Mozart that he had a peevish wife-a lady hard to please, who frequently broke in upon his studies, when in her waspish humor; and it was in one of these freaks that he caught from Madame the singular subject of this noted piece. The snatch upon the semiquavers is the very essence of irritability. ya, ye, &c. The following is of a more lugubrious cast-a person weighed down with sorrow and pain. Beethoven has adopted this as the motivo of his Third Trio, Op. 9. The following inflection of voice, is the endearing tone of a mother fondling her child. A VOICE of joy to thrill the tropic skies! Hath risen as once- hath borne a race of men, A voice of joy to hail the chief whose sword Redeemed the franchised land, whose teeming soil From Goth to Saracen, till Ibrahim came And scans a part, and dares to dream the whole; And reading in her first her future age, Visions indeed! but visions that can swell Won from dull sense, and sacred to that Power- And lo! the Spirit wings its mystic way Where ceaseless verdure wreathes the roofless wall, Shrouded in flowers! or where alone, outspread, Sees her eternal pillars as they stand * Philæ. |