the upper part of it, or that immediately connected with the hyoid-bone, the larynx and it is this upper part or larynx alone that constitutes the seat of the voice.

The tube of the larynx, short as it is, is formed of five distinct cartilages; the largest, and apparently, though not really, lowermost of which, produces that acute projection or knot in the anterior part of the neck, and especially in the neck of males, of which every one must be sensible. This is not a complete ring, but is open behind; the open space being filled up, in order to make a complete ring, with two other cartilages of a smaller size and power; and which together form the glottis, as it is called, or aperture out of the mouth into the larynx. The fourth cartilage lies immediately over this aperture, and closes it in the act of swallowing, so as to direct the food to the esophagus, another opening immediately behind it, which leads to the stomach. These four cartilages are supported by a fifth, which constitutes their basis; is narrow before, and broad behind, and has some resemblance to a seal-ring. The larynx is contracted and dilated in a variety of ways by the antagonist power of different muscles, and the elasticity of its cartilaginous coats; and is covered internally with a very sensible, vascular, and mucous membrane, which is a continuation of the membrane of the mouth.

The organ of the voice then is the larynx, its muscles, and other appendages; and the voice itself is the sound of the air propelled through and striking against the sides of its glottis, or opening into the mouth. The shrillness or roughness of the voice depends on the internal diameter of the glottis, its elasticity, mobility, and lubricity, and the force with which the air is protruded. Speech is the modification of the voice into distinct articulations, in the cavity of the glottis itself, or in that of the mouth, or of the nostrils. Those animals only that possess lungs possess a larynx, and hence none but the first three classes in the Linnæan system, consisting of mammals, birds, and amphibials. Even among these, however, some genera or species are entirely dumb, as the myrmecophaga or ant-eater, the manis or pangolin, and the cetaceous tribes, together with the tortoise, lizards, and serpents; while others lose their voice in particular regions: as the dog is said to do in some parts of America,* and quails and frogs in various districts of Siberia.† It is from the greater or less degree of perfection with which the larynx is formed in the different classes of animals that possess it, that the voice is rendered more or less perfect; and it is by an introduction of superadded membranes, or muscles, into its general structure, or a variation in the shape, position, or elasticity of those that are common to it, that quadrupeds and other animals are capable of making those peculiar sounds, by which their different kinds are respectively characterized, and are able to neigh, bray, bark, or roar; to purr as the cat and tiger kind, to bleat as the sheep, or to croak as the frog.

The larynx of the bird class is of a very peculiar form, and admirably adapted to that sweet and varied music with which we are so often delighted in the woodlands. In reality, the whole extent of the trachea or windpipe in birds may be regarded as one vocal apparatus; for the larynx is divided into two sections, or may rather, perhaps, be considered as two distinct organs; the more complicated, or that in which the parts are more numerous and elaborate, being placed at the bottom of the trachea, where it divides into two branches, one for each of the lungs; and the simpler, or that in which the parts are fewer, and consist of those not included in the former, occupying its usual situation at the upper end of the trachea, which, however, is without an epiglottis; the food and other substances being incapable of entering the aperture of the glottis from another contrivance. The lungs, trachea, and larynx of birds, therefore, may be regarded as forming a complete natural bagpipe; in which the lungs constitute the pouch and supply the wind; the trachea itself the pipe; the inferior glottis the reed, or mouth-piece, which produces the simple sound; and the superior glottis the finger-holes, which

* Pennant, Arctic Zool

† Mulier, Collect. of Russian Discoveries, vol. vii. p. 123

modify the simple sound into an infinite variety of distinct notes, and at the same time give them utterance.

Here, however, as among quadrupeds, we meet with a considerable diversity in the structure of the vocal apparatus, and especially in the length and diameter of the tube or trachea, not only in the different species, but often in the different sexes of the same species, more particularly among aquatic birds. Thus the trachea is straight in the tame or dumb swan (anas Olor) of both sexes; while in the male musical swan (anas Cygnus) it winds into a large convolution contained in the hollow of the sternum. In the spoon-bill (platalea Leucorodia), as also in the mot-mot pheasant (phasianus Mot-mot), and some others, similar windings of the trachea occur, not enclosed in the sternum. The males of the duck and merganser (Anas and Mergus) have, at the inferior larynx, a bony addition to the cavity which contributes to strengthen their voice.

Many of the frog genus have a sac or bag in the throat, directly communicating with the larynx, as the tree frog (rana arborea), while the green frog (rana esculenta) has two considerable pouches in the cheeks, which it inflates at the time of coupling, by two openings close to the glottis. And it is on this account they are able to give forth that kind of croaking music which they generally begin in the evening and continue through the greater part of the night. Two or three species, possessed of a similar kind of apparatus, are very clamorous animals; and, pretending to a knowledge of the weather, are peculiarly noisy before rain or thunder-storms; while several, as the jocular and laughing toad (rana risibunda and r. bombina) are of a merrier mood, and seem to imitate with tolerable exactness the laugh of the human voice, in the hey-dey of their activity, which is always in the evening.

Among the bird tribes there are some possessed of powers of voice so singular, independently of that of their own natural music, that I cannot consent to pass them over in total silence. The note of the pipra musica or tuneful manakin, is not only intrinsically sweet, but forms a complete octave; one note succeeding another in ascending and measured intervals, through the whole range of its diapason. This bird is an inhabitant of St. Domingo, of a black tint, with a blue crown and yellow front and rump; about four inches long, very shy, and dexterous in eluding the vigilance of such as attempt to take it. The imitative power of several species of the corvus and psittacus kinds is well known; the jays and parrots are those most commonly taught, and the far-famed parrot of the late Colonel O'Kelly, which could repeat twenty of our most popular songs, and sing them to their proper tunes, has been, I suppose, seen and heard by most of us. The bullfinch (loxia Pyrrhula), however, has a better voice, as well as a more correct taste in copying musical tones, and the bird breeders of Germany find a lucrative employment in training multitudes of this family for a foreign market.

The talents of the nightingale (motacilla Lucina) for speaking are, likewise, said to be very extraordinary, and even equal to his talents for singing. But where is the man, whose bosom burns with a single spark of the love of nature, that could for one moment consent that this pride and delight of the groves should barter away the sweet wildness of its native wood-notes for any thing that art can offer in its stead?

There is no species, however, so much entitled to notice on account of its voice, as the polyglottis, or mocking-bird. This is an individual of the thrush kind; its own natural note is delightfully musical and solemn; but beyond this it possesses an instinctive talent of imitating the note of every other kind of singing bird, and even the voice of every bird of prey, so exactly, as to deceive the very kinds it attempts to mock. It is moreover playful enough to find amusement in the deception: and takes a pleasure in decoying smaller birds near it by mimicking their notes, when it frightens them almost to death, or drives them away with all speed, by pouring upon them the screams of such birds of prey as they dread.

Now it is clear that the imitative, like the natural voice, has its seat in the cartilages and other moveable powers that form the larynx: for the great

body of the trachea only gives measure to the sound, and renders it more or less copious in proportion to its volume. It is not, therefore, to be wondered at, that a similar sort of imitative power should be sometimes cultivated with success in the human larynx; and that we should occasionally meet with persons, who, from long and dexterous practice, should be able to imitate the notes of almost all the singing-birds of the woods, or the sounds of other animals, or even to personate the different voices of orators and other public speakers.

One of the most extraordinary instances of this last kind consists in the art of what is called VENTRILOQUISM,* of which no very plausible explanation has hitherto been offered to the world. The practitioner of this occult art is well known to have a power of modifying his voice in such a manner as to imitate the voices of different persons conversing at a considerable distance from each other, and in very different tones. And hence the first impression which this ingenious trick or exhibition produced on the world, was that of the artist's possessing a double or triple larynx; the additional larynxes being supposed to be seated still deeper in the chest than the lowermost of the two that belong to birds: whence indeed the name of VENTRILOQUISM OF BELLYSPEAKING. Mr. Gough has attempted in the Memoirs of the Manchester Society, to resolve the whole into the phenomena of echoes; the ventriloquist being conceived by him on all occasions to confine himself to a room well disposed for echoes in various parts of it, and merely to produce false voices by directing his natural voice in a straight line towards such echoing parts, instead of in a straight line towards the audience; who, upon this view of the subject, are supposed to be artfully placed on one or both sides of the ventriloquist. It is sufficient to observe, in opposition to this conjecture, that it does not account for the perfect quiescence of the mouth and cheeks of the performer while employing his feigned voices; and that an adept in the art, like Mr. Fitzjames or Mr. Alexander, is wholly indifferent to the room in which he practises, and will allow another person to choose a room for him. Mr. Fitzjames is a native of France; and his vocal art and vocal powers have been paid particular attention to by M. Richerand, one of the most popular French physiologists of the day; who has also examined the vocal organs of other ventriloquists, and observes, as the result of his investigations, that > although there is little or no motion in the cheeks during the art of speaking, there is a considerable demand and expenditure of air; the ventriloquist always inhaling deeply before he commences his deception, passing a part of the air thus inhaled through his nostrils, and being able to continue his various voices as long as the inspired air may last, or till he has inhaled a fresh supply.

This view of the subject induced M. Richerand to relinquish the old hypothesis of a kind of vocal organ being seated in the stomach, to which we have already adverted, and which he had formerly embraced; though it does not appear that he has very distinctly adopted any other in its stead: "At first," says he, "I had conjectured that a great part of the air expelled by expiration did not pass out by the mouth and nostrils, but was swallowed and carried into the stomach; and, being reflected in some part of the digestive canal, gives rise to a real echo; but having afterward more attentively observed this curious phenomenon in Mr. Fitzjames, who exhibits it in its greatest perfection, I was soon convinced that the name of ventriloquism is by no means applicable; since the whole of its mechanism consists in a slow gradual expiration; in which the artist either influences at his will the surrounding muscles of the chest, or keeps down the epiglottis by the base of the tongue, the point of which is not protruded beyond the arch of the teeth."+

M. de la Chapelle, without offering any particular explanation of this curious art, published, in 1772, an ingenious work, in which he attempted to prove that ventriloquism is of a very ancient date; and that it formed the mode by which the responses of many of the oracles of former times were delivered

* Study of Medicine, vol. i. p. 463, edit. 1.

↑ Nouveaux Elémens de Physiologie, in loc. Paris, 1804.

R

by the priests and priestesses to the credulous multitude around them. And although this able writer has not fully succeeded in establishing his point, it must be allowed by every one that no art, while it continued occult, could better answer the purpose of such a sort of imposition; for an adept in the science is capable of modulating and inflecting his voice with so nice a dexterity, as not only to imitate, with equal accuracy, the cries of dogs, cats, infants, and persons in distress, together with every modification of articulate speech, but apparently to throw the mimic sound from whatever quarter he chooses: from the ceiling or roof of a house; the corner of a room; the mouths, stomachs, or pockets of any of the company present; from their hands or feet, from beneath a hat or a glass, or from a wooden doll. A humorous artist of this kind is said to have amused himself some years ago, by frequenting the fish-market at Edinburgh, and making a fish appear to speak, and give the lie to its vender in her own gross phrasing, upon her affirming that it was fresh, and caught in the morning; the fish quaintly replying as often as she so asserted, that it had been dead for a week, and that she knew it.

This singular art has given rise to a variety of extraordinary tales, and some of them of a very amusing kind. The following, which I copy from M. Bordeau, learned critic of the sixteenth century, is of this description, and I will for once break through our accustomed gravity in order to give it you:

The gallant Francis I. of France had an equally gallant and very shrewd valet-de-chambre, of the name of Lewis Brabant, who was also a most skilful ventriloquist. Lewis Brabant had the misfortune to fall desperately in love with a young, very beautiful, and very wealthy heiress, whose father forbade his addresses in consequence of the disparity of his condition. The father, however, died soon after, and the courageous lover, unsubdued by a first repulse, was determined to try his fortune a second time, under favour of the new state of circumstances, and to see whether it would not be possible, upon a severe push, to call to his aid the art of ventriloquism, in which he was so considerable an adept.

He accordingly waited upon the mother as soon as decency would allow, and once more submitted his proposals. But faithful to the views of her deceased husband, the mother of the young lady made no scruple of once more giving Lewis Brabant a direct refusal. While, however, she was in the act of doing so, a low, hollow, sepulchral voice was heard by herself, and by every friend who was with her, and which was instantly recognised as the voice of the deceased, commanding her to give her daughter's hand immediately to Lewis Brabant, whom the piteous spirit affirmed he now knew to be a most worthy and excellent man, and considerably wealthier than he had taken him to be when alive; adding, at the same time, that he was at that moment suffering a part of the pains of purgatory for having ill-treated, by his refusal, so exemplary a man; and that he would not be released from them till his widow had consented.

All was mute astonishment; but Lewis Brabant appeared more astonished than the rest. He modestly observed, that whatever his merits or his virtues might be, he had no idea that they were worthy of being commemorated by a voice from the grave; but that nothing could give him more pleasure than to be made the happy instrument of extricating the old gentleman from the pains of purgatory, which it seemed he was suffering on his account. There was no doubt as to the voice; and, consequently, there was no doubt as to the path to be pursued; the mother, the daughter, the whole family, immediately assented with one accord, and Lewis Brabant had the honour to receive their commands to prepare for the nuptials with all speed.

To prepare for the nuptials, however, required the assistance of a little ready money; but Lewis Brabant was destitute of such an article. It was necessary, nevertheless, to procure it; and he now resolved to try whether the same talent which had obtained for him the promise of a wife, might not also obtain for him the material he stood in need of.

He recollected that there lived at Lyons an old miserly banker, of the name of Cornu, who had accumulated immense wealth by usury and extortion, and whose conscience appeared often to be ill at ease, in consequence of the means he had made use of; and it immediately struck him that M. Cornu was the very character that might answer his purpose.

To Lyons, therefore, he went instantly post-haste, commenced an immediate acquaintance with M. Cornu, and on every interview took especial care, on entering into conversation with him, to contrast the pure happiness enjoyed by the man whose conscience could look back, like M. Cornu's, as he was pleased to say, on a life devoted to acts of charity and benevolence, with the horrors of the wretch who had amassed heaps of wealth by usury and injustice, and whose tormented mind only gave him now a foretaste of what he was to expect hereafter. The miser was perpetually desirous of changing the conversation; but the more he tried, the more his companion pressed upon him with it; till finding, on one occasion, that he appeared more agitated than ever, the ventriloquist conceived such an occasion to be the golden moment for putting his scheme into execution; and at that instant a low, solemn, sepulchral mutter was heard, as in the former case, which was at last found to be the voice of M. Cornu's father, who had been dead for some years, and which declared him to have passed all this time in the tortures of purgatory, from which he had now just learned that nothing could free him but his son's paying ten thousand crowns into the hands of Lewis Brabant, then with him, for the purpose of redeeming Christian slaves from the hands of the Turks.

All, as in the last case, was unutterable astonishment; but Lewis Brabant was the most astonished of the two: modestly declared that now for the first time in his life he was convinced of the possibility of the dead holding conversation with the living: and admitted that, in truth, he had for many years been benevolently employed in redeeming Christian slaves from the Turks, although his native bashfulness would not allow him to avow it publicly.

The mind of the old miser was distracted with a thousand contending passions. He was suspicious without having any satisfactory reason for suspicion; filial duty prompted him to rescue his father from his abode of misery: but ten thousand crowns was a large sum of money even for such a purpose. He at length resolved to adjourn the meeting till the next day, and to change it to another place. He required time to examine into this mysterious affair, and also wished, as he told his companion, to give his father an opportunity of trying whether he could not bargain for a smaller sum. They accordingly separated; but renewed their meeting the next day with the punctuality of men of business. The place made choice of by M. Cornu, for this rencounter, was an open common in the vicinity of Lyons, where there was neither a house, nor a wall, nor a tree, nor a bush that could conceal a confederate, even if such a person should be in employment. No sooner, however, had they met than the old banker's ears were again assailed with the same hideous and sepulchral cries, upbraiding him for having suffered his father to remain for four-and-twenty hours longer in all the torments of purgatory; denouncing that, unless the demand of the ten thousand crowns was instantly complied with, the sum would be doubled; and that the miser himself would be condemned to the same doleful regions, and to an increased degree of torture. M. Cornu moved a few paces forward, but he was assaulted with still Louder shrieks: he advanced a second time, and now instead of hearing his father's voice alone, he was assailed with the dreadful outery of a hundred ghosts at once, those of his grandfather, his great-grandfather, his uncles and aunts, and the whole family of the Cornus for the last two or three generations; who, it seems, were all equally suffering in purgatory-and were included in the general contract for the ten thousand crowns; all of them beseeching him in the name of every saint in the calendar to have mercy upon them, and to have mercy upon himself. It required more fortitude than M. Cornu possessed to resist the threats and outeries of a hundred and fifty or two hundred ghosts at a time. He instantly paid the ten thousand crowns