hastily snatching the snowy feathers from her hands, she opened the window and fixed them on. No sooner had they touched her shoulders than she resumed the form of a swan, and ex panding her silver wings, took her flight and bade adieu to Friedbert's abode. [To be concluded in our next.]. FAMILIAR LECTURES ON USEFUL SCIENCES. ON THE POWER OF MUSIC UPON ANIMALS; With an Account of the Concert given to two Elephants at the Botanic Garden in Paris, on the 29th May, 1798. In a Letter to a Friend, dated the 7th of August following. "Natura ducimur ad modos." "By Nature we are inclined to Music."-QUINTIL. You wish to be informed particularly what effects music produced on the Elephants, those animals whose social instinct and habitudes are at all times very apt to pique our curiosity. You think that the experiment of giving pleasure to a sensible being is certainly better than that of giving it pain: I am of your opinion; and, under favour of the learned Haller, and all those physiologists who have worked like him, I believe it is more rational, and above all more humane, to study the springs and functions of life, in life itself, than to seek them in death, or in the convulsions of an expiring animal. Be this as it may, I thank those artists, who, armed, not with scalpels and instruments of torture, but with hautboys, flutes, and fiddles, came to exercise the charm of their art, on two beings endowed with sentiment; to loosen their natural faculties which slavery holds in chains; to excite and calm them alternately; to revive in their wild mind the instinct of their native country; and at last to conduct them, by means of the accents of joy and tenderness to the illusions of that love, which to be fully satisfied will bear no witnesses; in truth a deceitful enjoyment, but which, at least give a glimpse of the manner in which those animals fulfil the functions to which nature calls thein for the multiplication of their species. For this lively demonstration, such as can never be seen on anatomical theatres, we are indebted to the talents of thirteen of the most distinguished musicians in Paris, chiefly attached to the conservatory of music. The orchestra was placed out of sight of the Elephants, in a gallery above the place they were kept in, and round a large circular trap door, which was not opened till the moment the concert began. In order to give more liberty to the motions of Hans and Margaret, for so they are called, the enjoyment of both the apartments which compose their habitation was left to them, so that they being ready, and the instruments in tune, all was silent, and the trap-door was lifted up without noise, whilst to improve the effect of the surprise, their cornac or keeper gave them cakes and other dainties, to prevent their attending much to what was doing. The concert began with a trio for two violins and a bass, in B major, consisting of short airs with variations of a moderate character. No sooner were the first sounds heard than Hans and Peggy, lending an ear, left off eating; they soon ran towards the place from whence the sounds proceeded. The opening over their heads, the instruments of a strange form, of which they only perceived the extremities, the men floating as it were in the air, the invisible harmony, for which they attempted to feel, with their trunks, the silence of the spectators, the im. movable attitude of their cornac, all at first appeared to them subjects of curiosity, wonder and apprehension. They went round the trap-door, directing their trunks towards the opening, rising from time to time on their hind legs; approached their cornac, sought his caresses, returned with more uneasiness, gazed at the assistants, and seemed to examine whether there was not a snare laid for them. But those first emotions of fear were soon appeased, when they found every thing remained peaceable round them: then giving way without any mixture of dread to the impulse of sound, they seemed to feel no other sensations but what proceeded from the music. This alteration in their temper was parti cularly remarkable at the end of the trio, which the performers terminated with the famous Scythian dance in B minor, in the opera of Iphi genia in Tauride, by Gluck; music of a savage character strongly pronounced, and which communicated all the agitation of its rhythmus to the Elephants. From their gait, sometimes precipitated, sometimes slackened, from their motions sometimes sudden, and at other times slow, it appeared as if they followed the undulations of the song and the measure. They often bit the bars of their cells, wrung them hard with their trunks, pressed them with the weight of their body, as if they wanted room to play in, and that they wished to enlarge the boundaries of their prison. Piercing cries, and whistlings escaped from them at in ervals; is this from pleasure or from anger? was asked of the cornac: they not angry, answered he. This passion was calmed, or rather changed its object with the following air: O ma tendre Musette, performed in C minor, on the bassoon alone, without any accompaniment. doubled time, pressed them hard, and forced them to follow its mood. The female redoubled her solicitations; her caresses were more demonstrative, her allurements more poignant ; she often ran rapidly away from the male, and returned backwards, kicking him gently with her hind fet, to acquaint him she was there; but poor Peggy lost her labour. Happily for her the invisible power which troubled her senses, was likewise able to appease them. 1 The instruments were no longer playing, and she still followed their impulse, when like those refreshing rains which temper the summer heats, the soft harmony of two human voices descended from the orchestra like a cloud to calm her delirium. In the midst of her most lively transports, she was seen to moderate herself sud. denly, to suspend gradually all her desires; and lastly to stand still, letting her trunk rest on the Aloor. The repose of which she reflected the image, was in an Adagio of the opera of Dar. danus, "Plaintive Manes," sung by two voices, with all its accompaniments in B flat. These effects, however marvellous they may appear, have, notwithstanding, nothing which ought to surprise us; if we reflect that the pas sions of animals, like human passions, have naturally a rhythmical character, absolute, in The simple and tender melody of this romance, rendered still more plaintive by the melancholy accent of the bassoon, attracted them as it were by enchantment.They marched a few paces, stopped to listen, returned and placed themselves under the orchestra, gently agitated their trunks, and seemed to respire its amorous emanations. It must be remarked that during the per-dependent of all education and habitude. In formance of this air, they did not emit a single cry, nor received any determination neous to the music. Their motions were slow, measured, and partook of the softness of the tune. extra But the charm did not operate equally on both. Whilst Hans contained himself with his usual prudence and circumspection, Peggy, impassioned, caressingly flattered him with her long and flexible hand, which she passed and repassed over his back, and on his neck, then over her own, touched her breasts with the finger at the extremity of her proboscis, and, as if that finger was imprinted with a more pressing and tender sentiment, she instantly carried it to her mouth, and afterwards into the ear of Hans, who did not attend to, or perhaps was still ignorant of that language. This dumb scene took all at once a character of transport and disorder from the gay and lively accents of the air Ca Ira, performed in D, by the whole band of musicians, and of which the effect was singularly heightened by the piercing sound of the small flute. From their transports, from their cries of joy, sometimes grave, at other times shrill, but always varied in their tones; from their whistlings, their goings and comings, it might have been supposed that the rhythmus of that tune, which marches in marking the movements which are suitable to those passions, and joining to them the proper accents, music revives and excites them; it changes and calms them at will, by combining the measure, the order, and the succession of those movements. To which we add, that the passions of animals owning no other law than nature, are always simple, and consequently more easily moved, directed and ruled than those of mankind, which are for the most part com posed, and participate more or less of each other. But nothing more strongly proves those rela tions, those intimate correspondencies of rhythmus and melody with the motions and actions of the passions than the indifference in which both our Elephants remained whilst the band was for the second time playing the air of Ca Ira, immediately after that of Dardanus, only changing the key from D to F, It was still the same tune, but it no longer retained the same expression: it, was still the same harmony, but it had lost its first energy; it was still the same relative dura.. tion of the measures, but those measures were less marked, and no longer indicated the same rhythmus. I pass rapidly over the following pieces, such as the overture of the Derin du Village, which excited them to gaiety; the song of Henri IV. "Charmante Gabrielle," which plunged them in a sort of languor, and relenting temper, which were well expressed in their looks and their attitude. Some other tunes produced nothing, these are not worth mentioning; and I return to the third repetition of Ca Ira, performed as at first, in D, with the addition of several voices. None but a witness can form any just idea of its effects. The female could no longer command herself; she trotted about, leaped in cadence, and mixed accents like those of a trumpet, with the sounds of the voices and instruments, which were not discordant with the general harmony. On approaching the male, her ears flapped against her head with extreme quickness, whilst her amorous trunk solicited him in all the sensible parts of his body. Neither did she spare her gentle kicks. She often during her delirium, fell on her croups, with her fore feet in the air, and her back leaning against the bars of the lodge. In this posture she was heard to emit cries of desire; but instantly after, as if she had been ashamed of an action to which there were so many witnesses, she rose and continued he. cadenced course. After a short rest, new tunes and new instruments were tried. This second part of the concert was given under the eyes of the Elephants and close to their lodges. Although the male had not as yet felt the ardour of his female, and although no sensation of appetite and desire had yet shown itself in his exterior motions, the moment was not far off, in which he would emerge from that state of indifference. minor, (which had been before performed on the bassoon in C minor,) his illusion kept up; but the charm appeared to forsake him all of a sudden when the air Ca Ira was repeated for the fourth time. Perhaps the effect of that tune was exhausted; perhaps also the organs of those animals began to be fatigued with being exercised too much. This is very probable, because neither of them paid the least attention to the frenchhorn, which terminated the concert. That instruntent, which they had not before heard, would probably have made some impression on them if it had been sooner blown. A few days after this concert the elephants were detected by their keeper, in attempting to practise at night the lessons they had learned from the agitation and heat into which they had been thrown by the music. It would therefore be prudent not to repeat the proof but with great caution, and not till they enjoy greater liberty in the park which is preparing for them. Then three other means no less powerful might be made to concur: the food more choice and abundent; the pleasure of meeting each again after a short or long separation; and the season of spring which invites all beings to love. Above all, the experiment ought to be made on a fine moon-light night: it should ap. pear they were placed in the most absolute solitude, and where the most powerful silence reigned: they should not see any of the musicians, nor even their cornac. Not a word should be heard, but only the vocal and intrumental, melodies. Their instinct thus recalled, their desires revived, not suspecting any traps or surprise, perhaps they might accomplish the wish of nature, in giving themselves up, as if they were in the solitary countries of India, to that security which is exacted for an act which leaves them without defence against their ene mies. We find in the writings of Pliny, of Suetonius, and of Plutarch, anecdotes about elephants, which prove their natural inclination to music. Some were seen in the public spectacles of ancient Rome who were taught to perform in cadence to to the sound of instruments, certain evolutions, o: sorts of military dances. In the Indies where they hold such a distinguished rank at the court of Kings, they have musicians attached to their service. At first he showed neither pain nor pleasure whilst a brillant symphony of Haydn, in C major, was performing. The sight of the orchestra, the musicians and their apparatus, with the resounding tones of the various ins ruments, did not attract his attention; he testified neither curiosity nor surprise; but when that piece was finished, no sooner did the clarinet alone, begin to play the simple and pathetic pag-pipe air in the over ture of Nina, than he sought for the voice which flattered him, and stood still just before the instrument, extending his trunk towards it. tentive and immovable he remained listening. In the mean time the fires of love insinuated themselves into his veins; betrayed by exterior signs, and as it were himself astonished at that new sensation, he retreated a few paces, and when the symptoms diminished, or were quite gone, he returned to the music, listened, and found him-phants are brought before him, who pay him self again in the same state; these were transient fires, which only sparkled a few moments and disappeared, without even serving to guide him towards his mate. The clarinet having slid without interruption into the romance O, ma tendre Musette, in D "When the King of Pegu gives audience, the Dutch travellers say, that his four white ele their reverence by raising their trunk, opening their mouth, and giving three distinct cries, and kneeling." "Whilst they are cleaning and dressing, they stand under a canopy which is supported by eight servants, in order to shelter them from the heat of the sun. In marching to those vessels which contain their food and their water, they are preceded by three trumpets, the chords of which they attend to, and march with great gravity, regulating their paces by the sound of these instruments."-(Collection of l'oyages of the Dutch East India Company. So great is the empire of music on all living beings, that men have made use of it not only to civiltze themselves and regulate their own manners, but also to subdue animals, soften their || ferocious nature, direct the use of their strength, excite their courage, develope and extend their most generous qualities. At the beat of the drum, and the accents of the warlike trumpet, the horse feels his natural pride redoubled; his eyes sparkle, his feet paw the ground, he only waits for the signal of his master to rush into the midst of dangers; does he return victorious? behold him still foaming with ardour, impatient of the bridle, and subjecting his paces and his motions to the grave and moderate measure of a triumphal march*. The charm of melody supports the ox in the midst of his painful toils; it beguiles his fatigue and revives his strength. The custom of whistling or singing to those animals is universal in France, but especially in that part which is called Lower Poitou. On this subject the interesting author of the "Essays on the Propagation of Music in France," says:-"It is not enough to be young and robust, to cultivate the land there; the labourer who is most sought after, and who receives the greatest wages, is he whom they call the Noter (le Noteur.) His principal function is not to hold the plough, or to handle the spade, but to sing whilst the oxen are painfully tracing their furrows." "The song of the Noter is not any regular tune: it is an extempore melody composed of a series of pure sounds, often artfully prolonged, and with accents infinitely varied, although on a smaller number of chords.” "The short extent of the Gamut which is used by the Noters in this kind of music, gives it a melancholy character, which suits both the country and its inhabitants. Perhaps this apparent sadness is indicated by nature, as an harmonic proportion with the slow, painful, equal march of the oxen, and the efforts of the tiller, whose hand laboriously directs the plough-share in a hard thick soil. Be this as it may, the peasants What Pliny relates of the cavalry of Sybarites, which moved in cadence to the sound of instruments, may be seen at the Manège of Franconi, in Paris, where the horses of their own accord, follow the rhythmus of the airs which are played to them.-The same may be seen at Astly's and the Circus. No. XX. Vol. III. there are passionately fond of this melody, and believe that it dissipates the weariness of their oxen." "The camel, one of the animals which has been longest subjected to man, learns to march by the song; he regulates his pace by the cadence, and moves slowly or quickly according to the time of the tunes which are sung to him; he stops when he no longer hears the song of his master; the whip does not make him advance, but if he be required to travel farther than usual, the song which the camel prefers is resumed."[Chardin's Travels in Persia.] Even the violent character of the buffalo, and its gross manners, yield to the charms of melody. The keepers of the young buffaloes which inhabit the Pontine marshes in Italy, give a name to each of them, and to teach them to know that name, they often repeat it in a singing tone, caressing them under the chin. These young buffaloes are thus instructed in a short time, and never forget their name, to which they answer exactly by stopping, although mixed in a herd of two or three thousand buffaloes. The habitude of the buffalo to hear his name cadenced is so fixed that when grown up he will not suffer any one to approach him without that kind of chant, especially the female who is to be milked. The taste of the dog, for music is well known, particularly that of which the strongly marked rhythmus bears a relation to the frank and open character of that animal; and likewise his antipathy to continued discords, and sounds prolonged without any determinate measure. Buffon makes mention of some dogs who left their kennel or the kitchen to attend a concert, and afterwards returned to their usual residence. But a still more remarkable fact deserves to be recorded in the moral history of those animals. At the beginning of the revolution in France, a dog went every day to the parade before the palace of the Thuilleries, placing himself between the legs of the musicians, walking with them, and stopping when they stopped. After the parade he disappeared till the next day at the same hour, when he returned to his customary place. The constant appearance of this dog, and the pleasure he seemed to take in music, made the musicians take notice of him, who, not knowing his name, gave him that of Parade. He was vrey soon caressed by them all, and invited alternately to dinner. He who wished to invite him, had only to say, stroking his back, Parade, you dine with me to day. This was sufficient; the dog followed his host, eat his dinner with pleasure, but soon after, constant in his taste as well as in his independence, friend Parade took his leave, without attending to any entreaties for his stay, and went either to the Opera or to the Italian play F house, entered without ceremony into the orchestra, placed himself in a corner and remained there till the end of the performance. It is needless to dwell on the musical talents of birds, of whom the greater part are born melodists. This art with them, is only the language of nature and the interpreter of pleasure. Fish, who cannot live in the same element as man, have escaped from his yoke, and retained the primitive print of their nature. Notwith to crush a spider which he saw on my Piano-forte whilst I was playing. He was very sorry for having done so, when I told him that for a long time past I had seen the spider come down from its web as soon as I began to play, remain on the piano, and when I left off playing, remount to its usual place. There was no doubt but it was attracted by the music. These observations might be more extended; it might be shown how rhythmus joined to melody, first united men and regulated the pri mitive societies: rhythmus, by measuring time and motion, without which measure, men cannot work in common; and melody by charming their troubles, which charm appears to be innate, as the child in the cradel feels it, and is appeased by the song of its nurse; how animals themselves sensible of this art approached mankind, and how men had bent them to his yoke, not only by gentleness and good treatment, but also by means of the influence of music on all animated and sensible beings: for, by force slaves may be made, but not friends and faithful servants. Do not the foregoing examples sufficiently explain the prodigies of Orpheus? And when we read standing which the sound of instruments is capable of modifying them to a certain point. "I have seen," says Chabanon in his Treatise on music, "little fish which were kept in a glass vessel of which the top was uncovered, seek the sound of the violin, rise to the surface of the water to hear it, lift up their head and remain immoveable in that situation: if I came near them without touching the instrument, they were frightened and plunged to the bottom of the vessel. I tried this experiment many times." it is well known that Carp in ponds rise to the surface of the water at the tinkling of a bell, or the sound of a whistle, and they have been seen to follow the person who made these sounds, swimming all round the pond and leaping play-in Chardin, that in Persia, when a work is to be fully out of the water. Lastly, the musical instinct is manifested even in insects. Spiders have been seen to descend from their web, and to remain suspended by a single thread as long as an instrument was played on. Gretry, in his Essays on music says, In a small old house which I inhabited, a person happened undertaken which requires a multitude of hands, and great expedition, such as to construct or demolish edifices, level a piece of ground, &c. the inhabitants of a whole district assemble and work together to the sound of instruments, in order to increase the dispatch; does it not seem to be the walls of Thebes rising to the sound of the Lyre of Amphion. THE ANTIQUARIAN OLIO. 1 MR. EDITOR, separate and distinct village, a mile distant from London; but still less will it be conceived to have been as it actually was, an island cut from it, by a branch of the river Thames, and ori A great part of my leisure hours has been deToted in perusing the characters, amusements, habits, and eccentricities of our ancestors, and among the rest, the various changes, improve-ginally denominated Thorney Island, from the ments, &c. &c. of this metropolis. I fatter myself by affording a portion of your valuable and elegant Miscellany to my occasional extracts and observations, under the title of The Antiquarian Olio, you may give some information as well as amusement to your numerous subscribers. I am, Sir, yours, &c. &c. B UNITED to London by a continued succession of houses, as Westminster now is, it will scarcely be imagined that it was at one time a circumstance, as it is said, of its being over-grown with thorns and brambles. Its connection with the main land was by means of a bridge, which Matilda, Queen of Henry 1: erected over the stream in King-street, at the east end of Gardener-lane. STRAND. At this early period no houses existed in the Strand, which, as its name implies, was at first only an open plain, sloping down to the river, but intersected by several little cuts or channels, through which the water from the hills on its |