The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 269, August 18, 1827

Is held to have something to say;
Mrs. Splenetic's musical Poodles,
Which bark "Batti, batti!" all day:
The pony Sir Araby sported,
As hot and as black as a coal,
And the Lion his mother imported,
In bearskins and grease, from the Pole.

Good-night to the Season!—the Toso,
So very majestic and tall;
Miss Ayton, whose singing was so so,
And Pasta, divinest of all;
The labour in vain of the Ballet,
So sadly deficient in stars;
The foreigners thronging the Alley,
Exhaling the breath of cigars;
The "loge," where some heiress, how killing,
Environ'd with Exquisites sits,
The lovely one out of her drilling,
The silly ones out of their wits.

Good-night to the Season!—the splendour
That beam'd in the Spanish Bazaar,
Where I purchased—my heart was so tender—
A card-case,—a pasteboard guitar,—
A bottle of perfume,—a girdle,—
A lithograph'd Riego full-grown,
Whom Bigotry drew on a hurdle,
That artists might draw him on stone,—
A small panorama of Seville,—
A trap for demolishing flies,—
A caricature of the Devil,
And a look from Miss Sheridan's eyes.

Good-night to the Season!—the flowers
Of the grand horticultural fête,
When boudoirs were quitted for bowers,
And the fashion was not to be late;
When all who had money and leisure,
Grow rural o'er ices and wines,
All pleasantly toiling for pleasure,
All hungrily pining for pines,
And making of beautiful speeches,
And marring of beautiful shows,
And feeding on delicate peaches,
And treading on delicate toes.

Good night to the Season!—another
Will come with its trifles and toys,
And hurry away, like its brother,
In sunshine, and odour, and noise.
Will it come with a rose or a briar?
Will it come with a blessing or curse?
Will its bonnets be lower or higher?
Will its morals be better or worse?
Will it find me grown thinner or fatter,
Or fonder of wrong or of right.
Or married, or buried?—no matter,
Good-night to the season, Good-night!

New Monthly Magazine.

TIGER TAMING

A party of gentlemen from Bombay, one day visiting the stupendous cavern temple of Elephanta, discovered a tiger's whelp in one of the obscure recesses of the edifice. Desirous of kidnapping the cub, without encountering the fury of its dam, they took it up hastily and cautiously, and retreated. Being left entirely at liberty, and extremely well fed, the tiger grew rapidly, appeared tame and fondling as a dog, and in every respect entirely domesticated. At length, when it had attained a vast size, and notwithstanding its apparent gentleness, began to inspire terror by its tremendous powers of doing mischief, a piece of raw meat, dripping with blood, fell in its way. It is to be observed, that, up to that moment, it had been studiously kept from raw animal food. The instant, however, it had dipped its tongue in blood, something like madness seemed to have seized upon the animal; a destructive principle, hitherto dormant, was awakened—it darted fiercely, and with glaring eyes, upon its prey—tore it with fury to pieces—and, growling and roaring in the most fearful manner, rushed off towards the jungles.—London Weekly Review.

RUNNING A MUCK

The inhabitants of the Indian Archipelago, and particularly of the island of Java, are of a very sullen and revengeful disposition. When they consider themselves grossly insulted, they are observed to become suddenly thoughtful; they squat down upon the ground, and appear absorbed in meditation. While in this position, they revolve in their breasts the most bloody and ferocious projects of revenge, and, by a desperate effort, reconcile themselves with death. When their terrible resolution is taken, their eyes appear to flash fire, their countenance assumes an expression of preternatural fury; and springing suddenly on their feet, they unsheath their daggers, plunge them into the heart of every one within their reach, and rushing out into the streets, deal wounds and murder as they run, until the arrow or dagger of some bold individual terminates their career. This is called running a muck.—Ibid.

THE SELECTOR, AND LITERARY NOTICES OF NEW WORKS

THE JEW'S HARP

The memoirs of Madame de Genlis first made known the astonishing powers of a poor German soldier on the Jew's harp. This musician was in the service of Frederick the Great, and finding himself one night on duty under the windows of the King, playing the Jew's harp with so much skill, that Frederick, who was a great amateur of music, thought he heard a distinct orchestra. Surprised on learning that such an effect could be produced by a single man with two Jew's harps, he ordered him into his presence; the soldier refused, alleging, that he could only be relieved by his colonel; and that if he obeyed, the king would punish him the next day, for having failed to do his duty. Being presented the following morning to Frederick, he was heard with admiration, and received his discharge and fifty dollars. This artist, whose name Madame de Genlis does not mention, is called Koch; he has not any knowledge of music, but owes his success entirely to a natural taste. He has made his fortune by travelling about, and performing in public and private, and is now living retired at Vienna, at the advanced age of more than eighty years. He used two Jew's harps at once, in the same manner as the peasants of the Tyrol, and produced, without doubt, the harmony of two notes struck at the same moment, which was considered by the musically-curious as somewhat extraordinary, when the limited powers of the instrument were remembered. It was Koch's custom to require that all the lights should be extinguished, in order that the illusion produced by his playing might be increased.

It was reserved, however, for Mr. Eulenstein to acquire a musical reputation from the Jew's harp. After ten years of close application and study, this young artist has attained a perfect mastery over this untractable instrument. In giving some account of the Jew's harp, considered as a medium for musical sounds, we shall only present the result of his discoveries. This little instrument, taken singly, gives whatever grave sound you may wish to produce, as a third, a fifth, or an octave. If the grave tonic is not heard in the bass Jew's harp, it must be attributed, not to the defectiveness of the instrument, but to the player. In examining this result, you cannot help remarking the order and unity established by nature in harmonical bodies, which places music in the rank of exact sciences. The Jew's harp has three different tones; the bass tones of the first octave bear some resemblance to those of the flute and clarionet; those of the middle and high, to the vox humana of some organs; lastly, the harmonical sounds are exactly like those of the harmonica. It is conceived, that this diversity of tones affords already a great variety in the execution, which is always looked upon as being feeble and trifling, on account of the smallness of the instrument. It was not thought possible to derive much pleasure from any attempt which could be made to conquer the difficulties of so limited an instrument; because, in the extent of these octaves, there were a number of spaces which could not be filled up by the talent of the player; besides, the most simple modulation became impossible. Mr. Eulenstein has remedied that inconvenience, by joining sixteen Jew's harps, which he tunes by placing smaller or greater quantities of sealing-wax at the extremity of the tongue. Each harp then sounds one of the notes of the gamut, diatonic or chromatic, and the performer can fill all the intervals, and pass all the tones, by changing the harp. That these mutations may not interrupt the measure, one harp must always be kept in advance, in the same manner as a good reader advances the eye, not upon the word which he pronounces, but upon that which follows.—Philosophy in Sport.

FORM OF ANCIENT BOOKS, THEIR ILLUMINATIONS, &c

The mode of compacting the sheets of their books remained the same among the Greeks during a long course of time. The sheets were folded three or four together, and separately stitched: these parcels were then connected nearly in the same mode as is at present practised. Books were covered with linen, silk, or leather.

The page was sometimes undivided; sometimes it contained two, and in a few instances of very ancient MSS., three columns. A peculiarity which attracts the eye in many Greek manuscripts, consists in the occurrence of capitals on the margin, some way in advance of the line to which they belong; and this capital sometimes happens to be the middle letter of a word. For when a sentence finishes in the middle of a line, the initial of the next is not distinguished, that honour being conferred upon the incipient letter of the next line; thus—

THEGREEKSENTERING

THEREGIONOFTHEMA

CRONESFORMEDANAL

LIANCEWITHTHEM.AS

T  HEPLEDGEOFTHEIR

FAITHTHEBARBARIANS

GAVEASPEAR.

The Greeks, especially in the earliest times, divided their compositions into verses, or such short portions of sentences as we mark by a comma, each verse occupying a line; and the number of these verses is often set down at the beginning or end of a book. The numbers of the verses were sometimes placed in the margin.