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Scythian dance in B minor, in the opera of Iphis | doubled time, pressed them hard, and forced genia in Tauride, by Gluck; music of a savage | them to follow its mood. character strongly pronounced, and which com The female redoubled her solicirations; her municated all the agitation of its rhythmus to the caresses were more demonstrative, hur allureElephants.

ments more poignant; she often ran rapidly away From their gait, sometimes precipitated, some- # from the male, and returned backwards, kicking times slackened, from their motions sometimes him gently with her hind fet, to acquaint him sudden, and at other times slow, it appeared as if she was there; but poor Pegey lost her labour. they follored the undulations of the song and Happily for her the invisible power which the measure. They often bit the bars of their || troubled her senses, was likewise able to appease cells, wrung them hard with their trunks, pressed them. them with the weight of their body, as if they The ins'raments were no longer playing, and wanted room to play in, and that they wished to she still followed their impulse, when like those enlarge the boundaries of their prison. Piercing refreshing rains which temper the summer heats, cries, and whistlings escaped from them at in'er the soft harmony of two human voices descended vals; is this froin pleasure or from anger ? was from the orchestra like a cloud to calm her asked of the cornac : they not angry, unswered Jelirium. In the inidst of her most lively he.

transports, she was seen to moderate herself sud. This passion was calmed, or rather changed its denly, to suspend gradually all her desires; and object with the following air : O ma tendre lasily to stand still, letting her trunk rest on the Musette, performed in C minor, on the bassoon Aoor. The repose of which she reflected the alone, without any accompaniment.

image, was in an Adagio of the opera of Dar. The simple and tender inelody of this romance, danus, Plaintive Manes," sung by two vuices, rendered still more plaintive by the melancholy wish all its accompaniments in B flat. , accent of the bassoon, attracted them as it were These effects, however marvellous they may by enchantment. They marched a few paces, appear, have, notwith tanding, nothing which stopped to listen, returned and placed themselves ought to surprise us; if we reflect thai ibe pas, under the orchestra, gently agitated their trunks, sions of animals, like human passions, have and seemed to respire its amorous emanations. naturally a rhythmical character, absolute, in

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 marking the movements which are suitable to cry, nor received any determination extra- l those passions, and joining to them the proper neous to the music. Their motions were slow, accents, music revives and excites them; it measured, and partook of the softness of the changes and calms them at will, by combining tune.

the measure, the order, and ihe succession of But the charm did not operate equally on those movements. To which we add, that the both. Whilst Hans contained himself with his passions of animals owning no other law than usual prudence and circumspection, Peggy, im- | nature, are always simple, and cun equently passioned, caressingly flattered him with her long more easily moved, directed and ruled than whose and flexible hand, which she passed and repassed of mankind, which are for the most part come over his back, and on his neck, then over her || posed, and participate more or less of each own, touched her breasts with the finger at the other. extremity of her proboscis, and, as if that finger | But nothing more strongly proves those relawas imprinted with a more pressing and tender tions, those intimale correspondencies of rhythe sentiment, she instantly carried it to her mouth, Imus and melody with the motions and actions and afterwards into the ear of Hans, who did not of the passions than the indifference in which attend to, or perhaps was still ignorant of that both our Elephants remained whilst the band was language.

for the second time playing the air of Ca Ira, This dumb scene took all at once a character immediately after that of Dardanus, only changing of vransport and disorder froin the gay and lively l the key from Dio F, It was still the same rune, accents of the air Ca Ira, performed in D, by the but it no longer retained the same expression : it whole band of inusicians, and of which the effect was still the same harmony, but it had lost its was singularly heightened by the piercing sound first energy; it was still the same relative dura. of the small flyte,

tion of the measures, but those measures were From their transports, from their cries of joy, less marked, and no longer indicated the same sometimes grave, at other times shrill, but always rhythmus. varied in their tones; from their whistlings, their pass rapidly over the following pieces, such goings and comings, it might have been supposer | as the overture of the Devin du Village, which that the rhythmus of that tune, which marches in excited them to gaiety; the song of Kenri IV. * Charmante Gabrielle," which plunged them in , min., (which har been betere performed on the a sort of tinguor, and relenting temper, which | bassoon in C minor,) his illusion kept up; but the were well expressed in their looks and their charm appeared to forsakc him all of a sudden attitude. Some other tunes produced nothing, when the air Ca Ira was repeated for the fourth these are not worth mentioning; and I return to time. Perhaps the effect of that tune was exthe third repetition of Ca Ira, performed as ar hausted; perhaps also the organs of those anifirat, in D, with the addition of several voices. mals began to be fatigued with being exercised None but a witness can form any just idea of its too much. This is very probable, because neither eff:ets. The female could no longer command of them paid the least a tention to the frenchherself; she trotied about, leaped in cadence, and horn, which terminated the concert. That inmixed accents like those of a trumpet, with the stranicnt, which they had not before heard, would sounds of the voices and instruments, which were probably have made some impression on thein if not discordant with the general harmony. On it had been sooner blown. approaching the male, her ears flapped against A few days after this concert the elephants her head with extreme quickness, whilst her were detected by their keeper, in-attempting amorous tiunk solicited him in all the sensible to practise at night the lessons they had learned parts of his body. Neitlter did she spare her from the agitation and heat into which they had gende kicks. She often during her delirium, been threwn by the music, fell og her croups, with her fore feet in the air, It would therefore be prudent not to repeat and her back leaning against the bars of the the proof but with great caution, and not till they lodge. In this posture she was heard to emit | enjoy greater liberty in the park which is prepar. cries of desire; but instantly after, as if she hading for them. Then three other means no less been asharned of an action to which there were powerful might be made to concur: the food so numy witnesses, she rose and continued he. | more choice and abundunt; the pleasure of meet. cadenced courses

ing each again after a short or long separation ; : After a short rest, new tunes and riew instru i and the season of spring which invites all beings ments were tried. This second part of the con to love. Above all, the experiment ought to be cert was given under the eyes of the Elephants made on a fine moon-light night : it should ap. and close to their lodges.

pear they were placed in the most absolute soli. Although the male had not as yet felt the tude, and where the most powerful silence ardour of his female, and although no sensation reigned: they should not see any of the musiof appetite and desire had yet shown itself in his cians, nor eveu their cornac. Not a word should exterior motions, the moment was not far off, in be heard, but only the vocal and intrumental, which he would emerge froin that state of in. | melodies. Their instinct thus recalled, their difference,

desires revived, not suspecting any traps or At first he showed neither pain nor pleasure surprise, perhaps they might accomplish the whilst a brillant symphony of flaydi, in C major, i wish of nature, in giving themselves up, as if was performing. The sight of the orchestra, the they were in the solitary countries of India, to musicians and their apparatus, with the resound that security which is exacted for an act which ing tones of the various ivs ruments, did not leaves them without defence against their ene. attract his attention, he testified neither curiosity i mies. nor surprise; but when that piece was finished, We find in the writings of Pliny, of Suetonius, no sooner did the clarinet alone, begin to play and of Plutarch, anecdotes about elephants, which the simple and pathetic pag-pipe air in the over prove their natural inclination to music. Some ture of Nina, than he sought for the voice which were seen in the public spectacles of ancient Aattered him, and stood sell jist before the in- || Rome who were taught to perform in cadence to strument, extending bis trunk towards it. All to the sound of instruments, certain evolutions, tentive and immovable he remained listening. In o sorts of military dances. In the Indies where the mean time the fires of love insinuated tliem- they hold such a distinguished rank at the selves into his veins; betrayed by exterior signs, court of Kings, they have musicians attached to and as it were himself astonished at that new their service. sensation, he retreated a few, paces, and when " When the King of Pegu gives audience, the the symptoms diminished, or were quite gone, he | Dutch travellers say, that his four white ele. re:urned to the music, listrned, and found him- phants are brought before him, who pay him self again in the same state; these were transient their reverence by raising their trunk, opening fires, which only sparkled a few inoments and their mouth, and giving three distinct cries, and disappeared, without even serving to guide him il kneeling--" "Whilst they are cleaning and towards his pate,

Il dressing, they stand under a canopy which is sups The clarinet having slid without interruption ported by eight servants, in order to shelter them into the romance (), ma tendrs Musette, in D from the heat of the sun. In marching to those

vessels ubich contain their food and their water, there are passionately fond of this melody, and they are preceded by three trumpets, the chords believe that it dissipates the weariness of their of which they wend to, and march with greatoxen." grzeity, regulating their paces by the sound of “The camel, one of the animals which has the instruments."-(Collection of Voyages of been longest subjected to man, learns to march tée Date Esa India Company.

by the song; he regulates his pace by the cadence, So gear is the empire of music on all living 'and moves slowly or quickly according to the beides, tsat men have made use of it not only to time of the lunes which are sung to him ; he civilte themselves and regulate their own man stops when he no longer hears the song of his ners, but also to subdue animale, soften their master; the whip does not make him advance, ferocite store, direct the use of their strength, || but if he be required to travel farther than usual, exote their courage, develope and extend their | the song wbich the camel prefers is resumed." Dos generous qualities. At the beat of the [Chardin's Travels in Persia.] trum, and the accents of the warlike trumpet, | Even the violent character of the buffalo, and the horse feels his natural pride redoubled; his | its gross manners, yield to the charms of melody. eyes sparkle, his feet paw the ground, he only | The keepers of the young buffaloes which nits for the signal of his master to rush into the inhabit the Pontine marshes in Italy, give a name midst of dangers; does he return victorious ? be- !| to each of thein, and to teach them to know hold him still foaming with ardour, impatient of that name, they often repeat it in a singing tone, the bridle, and subjecting his paces and his mo caressing them under the chin. These young tions to the grave and moderate measure of a buffaloes are thus instructed in a short time, and triomphal marche.

never forget their name, to which they answer The cbarm of melody supports the ox in the exactly by stopping, although mixed in a herd midst of his painful toils; it begailes his fatigue Il of two or three thousand buffaloes. The habitude and retires his strength. The custom of whistling ll of the buffalo to hear his name cadenced is so ar singing to those animals is universal in France, fixed that when grown up he will not suffer any but especially in that part which is called Lower one to approach him without that kind of chant, Poitou. On this subject the interesting author especially the female who is to be milked. of the “ Essays on the Propagation of Music The taste of the dog, for music is well known, in France,” says :-" It is not enough to be particularly that of which the strongly marked young and robust, to cultivate the land there; Thythmus bears a relation to the frank and open the labourer who is most sought after, and

character of that animal; and likewise his antipawho receives the greatest wages, is he whom they thy to continued discords, and sounds prolonged call the Noter (le Noteur ) His principal func without any determinate measure. tion is not to hold the plough, or to handle the Buffon makes mention of some dogs who left spade, but to sing whilst the oxén are painfully their kennel or the kitchen to attend a concert, tracing their furrows."

and afterwards returned to their usual residence. « The song of the Noter is not any regular But a still more remarkable fact deserves to be tane : it is an extempore melody composed of a recorded in the moral history of those animals, series of pure sounds, often artfully prolonged, and At the beginning of the revolution in France, a with accents infinitely varied, although on a dog went every day to the parade before the palace smaller number of chords."

of the Thuilleries, placing himself between the «'The short extent of the Gamut which is used | legs of the musicians, walking with them, and by the Noters in this kind of music, gives it a stopping when they stopped. After the parade melancholy character, which suits both the coun

he disappeared till the next day at the same hour, try and its inhabitants. Perhaps this apparent wlien he returned to his custoinary place. The sadness is indicated by nature, as an harmonic constant appearance of this dog, and the pleasure proporcion wiih the slow, painful, equal march | he seemed to take in music, made the musicians of the oxen, and the efforts of he riller, whose take notice of him, who, not knowing his name, hand I boriously dire ts the plough-share in a gave himn that of Paraile. He was vrey soon hard thick oil. Be this as it may, the peasants caressed by them all, and invited alternately to

dinner. He who wished to invite him, had only • What Pliny rela:es of the cavalry of Sy- to say, stroking his back, Parade, you dine with barites, which moved in cadence to the sound of me to day. This was sufficient; the dog followed instruinents, may be seen at the Manège of his host, eat his dinner with pleasure, but sopa Franconi, in Paris, where the horses of their after, constant in his taste as well as in his inowu accord, follow th- rhy'hmus of the airs dependence, friend Parade took his leave, with. which are player to them. The same may be out attending to any entreaties for his stay, and seen at Ast y's ad the Circus.

went either to the Opera or to the Italian playNo. XX. Vol. III,

house, entered without ceremony into the or- || to crush a spider which he saw on my Piano-forte chestra, placed himself in a corner and remained whilst I was playing. He was very sorry for there till the end of the performance.

having done so, when I told him that for a long It is needless to dwell on the musical talents time past I had seen the spider come down from of birds, of whom the greater part are born melo its web as soon as I began to play, remain on the dists. This art with them, is only the language piano, and when I left off playing, remount to of nature and the interpreter of pleasure, lits usual place. There was no doubt but it was

Fish, who cannot live in the same eleinent as I attracted by the music. man, have escaped from his yoke, and retained | These observations might be more extended ; the primitive print of their nature. Notwith-it might be shown how rhythmus joined to standing, which ihe sound of instruments iş ca melody, first united men and regulated the pri. pable of modifying them to a certain point. “I mitive societies : rhythmus, by measuring time have seen,”, says Chabanon in his Treatise on || and motion, without which measure, men canmusic,“ little fish which were kept in a glass not work in common; and melody by charming vessel of which the top was uncovered, seek the | their troubles, which charm appears to be innale, sound of the violin, rise to the surface of the as the child in the cradel feels it, and is appeased water to hear it, lift up their head and remain I by the song of its nurse; how animals themselves immoveable in that situation : if I came near them sensible of this art approached mankind, and without touching the instrunient, they were how men had bent them to bis yoke, not only by frightened and plunged to the bottom of the gentleness and good treatment, but also by means vessel. I tried this experiment many times." || of the influence of music on all animated and it is well known that Carp in ponds rise to the || sensible beings : for, by force slaves may be surface of the water at the tinkling of a bell, or made, but not friends and faithful servants. "Do the sound of a whistle, and they have been seen not the foregoing examples sufficiently explain to follow the person who made these. sounds, the prodigies of Orpheus? And when we read gwimming all cound the pond and leaping play

in Chardin, that iu Persia, when a work is to be fully out of the water.

undertaken which requires a multitude of hands, Lastly, the musical instinct is manifested even II and great expedition, such as to constructor in insects., Spiders have been seen to descend 1| demolish edifices, level a piece of ground, &c. the from their web, and to remain suspended by a || inhabitants of a whole district assemble and work single thread as long as an instrument was played | together to the sound of instruments, in order on.

to increase the dispatch; does it not seem to be Gretry, in his Essays on music says, In a small the walls of Thebes rising to the sound of the old house which I inhabited, a person happened | Lyre of Amphion. a

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l 'unico MR. EDITOR,

// separate and distinct village, 'a mile rlistant from A great part of my leisure hours bas been de

London; but still fess will it be conceived to Toted in perusing the characters, amusements, ll have been as it actually was, an island cut froin habits, and eccentricities of our ancestors, and ii it, by a branch of the river Thames, and oriamong the rest, the various changés, improve

ginally denominated Thorney Island, from the ments, &c. &c. of this metropolis."

circumstance, as it is said, of its being over-grown I Aatter myself by affording a portion of your

with thoms and brambles. Its connection with valuable and elegant Miscellany to my occa

the main land was by means of a bridge, wbich sional extracts and observations, under the title of

Matilda, Queen of Henry I. erected over the The Antiquariun Olio, you may give some in

| stream in King-street, at the east end of Garformation as well az amusement to your nume

dener-lane. rous subscribers. I am, Sir, yours, &c. &c.

STRAND.
At this early period no houses existed in the

Strand, which, as its name implies, was at first UNITED to London by a continued succes. only an open plain, sloping down to the river, sion of houses, as Westminster now is, it will I but intersected by several little cuts or channels, scarcely be imagined that it was at one time a | tirough which the water from the hills on its

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north side was conveyed into the Thames. And Near this and between Essex house and Milover these rivulets, wherever they occurred, ford-lane, was a chapel dedicated to the Holy Bridges, cunsisting probably of no more than Ghost, called S. Spirit.. one small stone arch, were erected, to continue To the west of this last was the bishop of the road and preserve the communication. One Bath's house, or inn, as it was usual to call such of these, called Strand-bridge, was between residences. Beyond this, on the side of the street, Surref-street and the present Somerse i-place; was a chuich-yard, in which stood the parish another, named Ivy-bridge, between Salisbury church of the Nativity of St. Mary and the Inno. street and where the Adelphi now stands; and a cent. In the Strand, nearly adjoining this church, third, it is said, discovered not long since, oppo. and between that and the river, was an inn of site the end of Essex-Street, These water-courses || Chancery, called 'Chester's 'ion, because it be and bridges are, in fact, still existing, but being longed to the Bishop of Chester'; but denoconverted into sewers and covered with streets, liminated by some, from its situation, Strand inn. are no longer visible. And where the spot called At a small distance from the church, stood Charing-cross now is, was, in ancient time, the Strand-bridge, which had a lane or way under it, village of Charing, equally detached from both leading down to á landing place on the banks of London and Westminster, and nearly equi- the Thames. The precise spot may still be distant from each: nie

ascertained from the name of Strand-lane, which About the time of Henry III, the Courts, par-la turning down from the Strand to the water, teularly the Common Pleas, became stationary between Surrey-street and Somerset-place, still at Westminster, which had also become the most retains. usual place or holding the Parliament. Many The bishop of Chester's own house,' or re. of the bishops especially, and others of the no- sidence, stood a little to the West of Strandbility, therefore, for the purpose of more conve- bridge. It was called equally the Bishop of nient attendance when the Parliament was held | Chester's and the Bishop of Litchfield and Co: there, were induced to erect palaces on the edge ventry's inn, and was first built by Walter Lang. of the river, and by so doing to connect, by a ton, bishop of Chester, treasurer of England in line of buildings, the two villages of Charing and the reign of Edward I.

? London. Howel has remarked, that from Dor. In the high-street, opposite the bishop of set-house, Fleet-street, to Whitehall, all the Chester's, or Coventry's inn, stood at one time a great houses built on the Thames were episcopal | stone-cross, at which, in 1994, and at other palaces, except the Savoy and Suffolk-house. ll times, the justices itinerant sat, without Lon

Within a few years a house has been pulled || don; but afterwards they sat in 'that bishop's down, though not old, yet rendered sufficiently || house. No great distance from the cross, ocillustrious, by the temporary residence of the curred the palace of the Savoy, erected in 1245. Duke de Sully, when Ambassador here. It stoud

1 To the Savoy, succeeded the bishop of Car. on the north side of the Strand, near Temple lllisle's inn, which in 1618, and also in 1633. Bar; it is said to have been at that time inhabited I was inhabited by the earl of Bedford, and called by Chrisopher Harley, Count Beaumont, anabas. ll Russell, or Bedford house. It is described as sador from France in the year 1605, and the extending from the hospital of the Savoy to Duke de Sully, who came over as ambassador || Ivy-bridge, which, in the map of St. Martin's extraordinary, resided here for a few days after parish, in Strype's Stow, book vi. page '66, is his arrival, till Arundel-house, then situated i represented as the next turning beyond Salis. where Arundel street now is, could be prepared || bury-street to the west; so that it must have for his reception.

been the huuse which stood on the scite of On the south side of the Strand, beginning

the present Beaufort-buildings, and was at one from Temple Bar, the first in local situation, time inhabited by the earl of Worcester. though not in chronological order, was Exeler house, erected, as it is supposed by the then

(To be continued.) Bishop of that see, about the reiga of Edvard II.

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