TWENTY-FOUR EXERCISES FOR ONE OR TWO FLUTES, in all the Sharp and Flat Keys.-By Alexander Howship, Professor of the Flute. The Author, 12, Denzell Street, Clare Market. THESE exercises are constructed upon á novel and improved plan, and the practice of them is better calculated to promote a perfect knowledge of the German flute, than that of any other set of Exercises that we ever met with. They are arranged in all the different sharp and flat, major, and relative minor keys, commencing with the most easy, and gradually proceeding to the more difficult. The exercises in each of the several keys are preceded by a key note, gamut, and a short prelude, which greatly assist the student in "fingering," before he proceeds to practise the exercises themselves. Unlike the common run of musical exercises, those before us do not consist of "flat, stale, and unprofitable" studies; but all of them are compositions of such merit and beauty, as cannot fail to cultivate the taste of the pupil, at the same time that they conduce to a mechanical knowledge and mastery of the German flute. It is evident that the Author is practically acquainted with the powers and susceptibilities of the delightful instrument which he professes to teach: and he has obviously bestowed great attention in composing and arranging the present publication. It will, we doubt not, prove of essential service to those who wish to excel in the agreeable recreation and accomplishment of performing on the Aute. INTERNAL GREATNESS OF ATHENS UNDER PERICLES. TRAGEDY, but lately a rude ceremonial, had been elevated by Eschylus to the most heroic dignity, and softened by Sophocles into the most harmonious sweetness. Painters, who had attained the noblest purity in design, and the freest grace in outline, were employed to adorn the places of assembly with the forms of illustrious heroes. Sculpture had sprung to life at the magic touch of Phidias, and rendered every part of the city august and venerable by the breathing shapes of warriors and deities. At the head of a number of consummate artists, whom his noble works had excited to excellence, Phidias was engaged by Pericles in rearing and adorning temples, of which the smallest portions still excite the utmost delight and wonder. The imagination can conceive nothing more glorious than this city-its halls and temples, all of the most beautiful materials, and most exquisite workmanship-the dazzling whiteness of its buildings, relieved by trees of the freshest green-the multitude of statues, disposed with the finest taste, each limb and feature of which might hold the gazer in breathless delight;-and all its far-outstretching crowd of domes and columns, overhung by a sky of the deepest blue, and counected by a noble line of fortresses, with the free and sparkling ocean! Yet still more worthy of admiration were the actors on this gorgeous scene -Poets almost the inventors as well as the perfectors of their art. Orators endowed with power to sway the passions at will-and a race of freemen, fresh from a triumph over millions! Unhappily, corruption was insensibly making way amidst this throng of noble spirits; too soon to destroy the energies which they lived to inspire. But we cannot dwell on the short-lived greatness of Athens, without feeling a triumph that earth has known a grandeur so stately, and a beauty so exquisite, even whhe those principles of truth and virtue, by which alone they could be rendered lasting, were but imperfectly understood. W. THE GERMAN IN ITALY. SOME years ago, a German Prince making the tour of Europe, stopped at Venice for a short period. It was at the close of summer, the Adriatic was calm, the nights were lovely, the Venetian women full of those delicious spirits, that in their climate rise and fall with the coming and departure of this finest season of the year. Every day was given by this illustrious stranger, to researches among the records and antiquities of this singular city; and every night to parties on the Brenta or the sea. As the morning drew nigh, it was the custom to return from the water, to sup at some of the houses of the nobility. In the commencement of his intercourse, all national distinctions were carefully suppressed; but as his intimacy increased, he could not help observing the lurking vanity of the Italians. One of its most frequent exhibitions, was in the little dramas that wound up their stately festivities. The wit was constantly sharpened by some contrast between the Italian and the German, some slight aspersion on Teutonic rudeness, or some remark on the history of a people untouched by the elegance of southern manners. As the sarcasm was conveyed with Italian grace, and the offence softened by its humour, it was obvious that the only retaliation must be a good-natured and humorous one. When the Prince was on the point of taking leave, he invited his entertainers to a farewell supper. He drew the conversation to the infinite superiority of the Italians, and above all of the Venetians, acknowledged the darkness in which Germany had been destined to remain so long, and looked forward with infinite sorrow to the comparative opinion of posterity, upon a country to which so little of its gratitude must be due. "But, my Lords," said he, rising, 66 we are an emulous people, and an example like yours must not be lost even upon a German. I have been charmed with your dramas, and have contrived a little arrangement to give you one of our country; if you will condescend to follow me to the great hall." The company rose and followed him through the splendid suite of a Venetian villa: to the hall which was fitted up as a German barn. The aspect of the theatre produced at first universal surprise, and next a universal smile. It had no resemblance to the gilded and sculptured saloons of their own sumptuous little theatres. However, it was only so much the more Teutonic. The curtain drew up-the surprise rose into loud laughter, even amongst the Venetians, who have been seldom betrayed into any thing beyond a smile for generations together. The stage was a temporary erection, rude and uneven. The scenes represented a wretched irregular street, scarcely lighted by a single lamp, and looking the fit haunt for robbery and assassination. On a narrower view, some of the noble spectators began to think it had a resemblance to an Italian street, and some actually discovered in it one of the leading streets of their own city. But the play was on a German story, and they were under a German roof. The street, notwithstanding its similitude, was of course German. The street was for a time unpeopled; but at length a traveller, a German, with pistols in his belt, and apparently exhausted with fatigue, came heavily pacing along. He knocked at several of the doors, but could obtain no admission. He then wrapped himself up in his cloak, sat down upon the fragment of a monument, and thus soliloquized:-" Well, here I have come, and this is my reception. All palaces, no inns; all nobles, and not a man to tell me where I can lie down in comfort or in safety. Well, it can't be helped. A German does not much care, campaigning has hardened effeminacy amongst us. Loneliness is not so well unless a man can labour or read. Read, that's true, come out Zimmerman." He drew a volume from his pocket, moved nearer to a decaying lamp, and soon seemed absorbed. He had been till now the only actor. Another soon shared the eyes of the spectators. A tall light figure came with a kind of visionary movement from behind the monument, surveyed the traveller with keen curiosity, listened with apparent astonishment at his words, and in another moment had fixed itself gazing over his shoulder on the volume. The eyes of this singular being wandered rapidly over the page, and when it was turned, they were lifted up to Heaven, with the strongest expressions of astonishment. The German was weary, his head soon drooped over his book, and he closed it. "What," said he, rising and stretching himself, "is there no one stirring yet in this comfortless place is it not near day?" He took out his repeater, and touched the pendant; it struck four. His mysterious attendant had watched him narrowly, the repeater was eyed in its turn; but when it struck, delight was mingled with the wonder that had till then filled his pale, intelligent countenance. "Four o'clock," said the German; “in my country half the world would be going to their day's-work by this time; in another hour it will be sun-rise. Well then, you nation of sleepers, I'll do you a service, and make you open your eyes." He drew out one of his pistols and fired it. The attendant form still hovering behind him, had looked curiously on the pistol; but on its going off, it started back in terror, and uttered a loud cry, that made the traveller start. "Who are you?" was his greeting to this strange intruder, "I will not hurt you," was the answer, "Who care's about that?" was the retort, and he pulled out the other pistol. "My friend," said the figure, " even that weapon of thunder and lightning cannot hurt me now; but if would know who I am, let me entreat you to satisfy my curiosity a moment. You seem a man of extraordinary powers." "Well then," you 66 said the German, in a gentler tone, "if you come as a friend, I shall be glad to give you all the information in my power: it is the custom of our country to deny nothing to those who will love or learn." The former sighed deeply, and murmured, " And yet you are a German ; but you were just reading a case of strange and yet most interesting figures: was it a manuscript?" "No, it was a printed book?” Printing, what is printing? I never heard but of writing." "It is an art by which one man can give to the world in one day, as much as three hundred could give by writing, and in a character of superior clearness and beauty; by which, books are universal, and literature eternal." "Admirable, glorious art!" said the inquirer, "who was its illustrious inventor?" "A German!" "But, another question, I saw you look at a most curious instrument, traced with figures, it sparkled with diamonds; but its greatest wonder was its sound. It gave the hour with miraculous exactness, and the sounds were followed with tones superior to the sweetest music of my day." "That was a repeater!" "How! when I had the luxuries of the world at my command, I had nothing better to tell the hour with, than a clepsydra, or a sun-dial. But this must be invaluable, from its facility of being carried about. It must be an admirable guide even to higher knowledge. All depends upon the exactness of time. It may assist navigation, astronomy. What an invention! whose was it? he must be more than human." "He was a German !" "What, still a barba But rian! I remember his nation: I once saw a legion of them marching towards Rome-they were a bold and brave blue-eyed troop-the whole city poured out to see them; but we looked on them as so many gallant savages. I have only one more question to ask you. I saw you raise your hand, with a small truncheon in it; in a moment something rushed out, that seemed a portion of the fire of the clouds. Were those thunder and lightning that I saw? Did they come at your command? Was that truncheon a talisman, and are you a mighty magician? Was that truncheon a sceptre, commanding the elements? Are you a god?" The strange inquirer had drawn back gradually, as his feelings rose. His curiosity was now turned into solemn wonder, and he stood gazing upwards, in an attitude expressive of mingled awe and astonishment. The German felt the sensation of a superior presence growing on himself, as he looked on the fixed countenance of this mysterious being. It was in that misty blending of light and darkness, which the moon leaves as it sinks just before morn. There was a single hue of pale grey in the East that tinged the stranger's visage, with a chill light; the moon resting broadly on the horizon, was setting behind, and the figure seemed as if standing in the orb; its arms were lifted towards heaven, and the light came through between them, with the mild splendour of a vision. the German, habituated to the vicissitudes of " perils by flood and field," shook off his brief alarm, and proceeded calmly to explain the source of the miracle. He gave a slight detail of the machinery of the pistol, and alluded to the history of gunpowder. "It must be a mighty instrument in the hands of man, either for good or ill," said the form. "How it must change the nature of war! By whom was this wondrous secret revealed to the treaders upon earth?" "A German." The form seemed suddenly to enlarge-its feebleness of voice was gone-its attitude was irresistibly noble. Before it had uttered a word, it looked as made to persuade and command; its outer robe had been flung away; it now stood with an antique dress of brilliant white, gathered in many folds, and edged in a deep border of purple; a slight wreath, like laurel, of a dazzling green, was on its brow; it looked like the Genius of Eloquence. "Stranger," said he, pointing to the Appenines, which were beginning to be marked with twilight, "eighteen hundred years have passed away since I was the glory of all beyond those mountains. I was then triumphant, and was honored as the great leading mind of the intellectual empire of the world: but I knew nothing of these things; I was a child to you. Has not Italy been still the mistress of the mind? Shew me her noble inventions. I must soon sink into the earth-let me learn still to love my country." The listener started back, exclaiming, "Who, and what are you?" "I am the spirit of an ancient Roman. Shew me by the love of a patriot, what Italy now sends out to enlighten mankind." The German looked embarrassed; but, in a moment after, he heard the sound of pipe and tabor. He pointed in silence to the narrow street from whence the interruption came; a ragged figure tottered out, with a barrel-organ at his back, a frame of puppets in his hand, a hurdy-gurdy round his neck, and a string of dancing dogs in his train. The spirit uttered, with a sigh, "Is this Italy?" The German bowed his head. The showman began his cry-" "Raree show, fine raree show against the wall! Fine, Madam Catalani dance upon de ground. Who come for de galantee show?" The organ struck up, the dogs danced, the Italian capered round them. The spirit raised his broad gaze to Heaven-"These the men of my country! these the poets, the orators, the patriots of mankind! What scorn and curse has fallen upca them!" As he gazed, tears suddenly suffused his eyes; a sunbeam struck across the spot where he stood; a purple mist rose around him, and he was gone. The Venetians, with one accord, started from their seats and rushed out of the hall. The Prince and his suite had previously arranged every thing for leaving the city, and were beyond the Venetian territory before sunrise. Another night in Venice, and they would have been on their way to the other world. HISTORICAL FABLES. THE Laplanders have been represented by some authors as being overgrown with shaggy hair like wild beasts. Others have given them but one eye; but these are fables which those authors seem to have borrowed from Herodotus and Pliny, and in no way applicable to the Laplanders, or any race of people upon the face of the earth. The origin of this story of people overgrown with hair, who had but one eye, like the Cyclops, is as old or older than the time when Herodotus wrote his history. He speaks of certain Cyclops called Anmaspi, inhabiting the northern parts, who waged perpetual war with dragons or griffins, in possession of mines of gold. The notion of these Cyclops is supposed to have arisen from the interpretation of the Scythian word Anmaspos, which signifies one eye. It has been thought by some, that the Anmaspi were a Tartar nation, into whose country the Chinese (whose ensign is a dragon or griffin) made frequent inroads for the purpose of seeking for gold, which they carried away with them. As to the peculiarity of the natives of Lapponia in respect to hairiness, it has been supposed to allude to their wearing furs in the winter for an outer garment. Herodotus likewise speaks of men, who, at particular seasons, were changed into wolves. This certainly had no other foundation than in the depraved fancies or impositions of sorcerers, who pretend to a power of transforming themselves into wolves, and perhaps to carry on the deception, disguised themselves in the skins of those animals. This belief has remained to later ages, and has left its name behind it, being called werewolf, by the Germans währ wolf, and by the French loup garou. ACERBI'S TRAVELS. Thus Milton, who accommodates the word to the metre: As when a griffin through the wilderness PAR. LOST, b. II |