Hex va! bez va! bez va bez! Eustathius, it seems, remarks that "blops is a sound in imitation of the clep sydra." As the clepsydra was a waterclock, I suppose this refers to the noise of the fluid in issuing from the vessel. I do not know in what manner it ran; but, to judge from the foregoing expression, it was not in a smooth stream. I shall therefore place as parallel to this, a French wood-cutter's term for the sound of the liquor emptying from his bottle (I imagine, what we call a leathern-bottle) to his mouth:t Qu'ils sont doux, Bouteille jolie, Qu'ils sont doux Vos petits glou-glou ! &c.‡ In my former letter, I presented you with a curious and most valuable statement, exhibiting the sounds of the strings of a violin in being put into tune. I have now the good fortune of being able to Jay before your readers, from the author whom I have last quoted (Molière), another article, almost equally valuable, in a similar display of the sounds produced by the strings of a lute, in undergoing precisely the same operation (of being put into tune). It is, of course, neces sary to remember that the instrument is out of tune at the time; and that the following example should be read with the French pronunciation of the words: “plan, plan, plan; plin, plin, plin :plin, plin, plin; plin, tan, plan; plin, plin-plin, plan." The same work supplies me also with an expression (in the French pronunci. ation of it) for the report of a pistol: it is poue.* My last example has but lately come to my knowledge, and very unexpectedly; but as an explanation concerning it may which I am sure must occasionally be help to illustrate some texts of Scripture liable to misconception, I shall employ a few lines on the subject. There is a Latin verb pipio, given in some of our school-dictionaries with the translation merely "to peep," and in others more fully," to peep like a chicken;" and as the word hardly ever occurs, this inter pretation might pass without causing any practical blunder. The idea, however, which the Latin verb really signifies, is, "to cry Peep!" this last word being merely an imitation of an inarticulate sound; and we have an obsolete verb "to peep," formed in the same manner as "to huzza, to whoop, and to hem and ha." This verb is very appropriately applied to young birds in the nest, in Isaiah, chap. 10, ver. 14: "There was none that moved the wing, or opened the mouth, or perped." In chap. 8, ver. 19, of the same prophet, it is coupled with "mutter;" and in the margin of chap. 29, ver. 4, is made equivalent to whisper," and "chirp.". The word then may be supposed to have been formed from the cry of young birds, and in this view it is suited to my present 66 purpose. I conclude with my hearty commendations to all ingenious projectors, whether in words or deeds; and am, Sir, Your's, &c. January 12th, 1810. Σ For the Monthly Magazine. On the SCALE of certain MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS, which are said to be with out TEMPERAMENT. HE letter of your respectable corre Tspondent, Capel Loft, esq. at page 387 ofthe November Magazine,induces me to trouble you herewith, in order to men-. Le Malade Imaginaire: première entrée de ballet. The passage is this: "Polichinelle, faisant semblant de tirer un coup de pistolet. Poue!” + Johnson, under "to peep," gives only (besides the most common meaning, of looking slily,")" to make the first appearance," and then explains "peeper" by young thickens just breaking the shell." Here seems evidently some confusion or mistake, from a comparison with the signification given in the upper part of this page. tion, that Mr. Maxwell, in his "Essay on Tunc," printed at Edinburgh 1781, has demonstrated, page 194, that forty-four strings or pipes are required, in each octave of a piano-forte or organ, that shall be capable of performing in all the twenty-four keys, in which modern compositions are wrote, or into which they frequently modulate, without temperaments; that is, without introducing concords that are imperfect or tempered, and which consequently are somewhat out of tune, and would be sensibly noticed as such, if these imperfect intervals were held out, or occurred in the long notes of a piece of full music. The organs to which Mr. Lofft alludes, as I suppose, are those made by Mr. Thomas Elliot, No. 12, Tottenham-court, under the Rev. William Hawke's patent, which instruments I have not yet seen; but I hastily examined last spring, some of the piano-fortes constructed under the same patent, by Mr. Robert Bill, No. 49, Rathbone-place, which, as far as I recol lect, had forty-eight strings in each octave, viz. four unison strings to each of the seven long finger keys, two unisons for each of the five short finger keys, considered as sharps, and two other unisons for each of the same keys, considered as flats; or without the double strings to each note, merely for giving strength of tone, twenty-four strings in each octave are necessary in these patent instruments, for obtaining only seventeen intervals in the octave; the unison on the natural notes or long keys, admitting of the whole clavier or range of finger-keys being shifted to the right or left, by means of a pedal, without altering the pitch of any but the short or half-notes. The expedient proposed by Mr. Lofft, of dividing each of the short finger-keys, has in part been adopted long ago, in the Temple Church and Foundling Hospital organs, in London, as I believe with perfect convenience to the performer: and were the same extended to every short key, seventeen strings or pipes in an octave, or such an instrument, would answer all the ends of Mr. Hawke's twenty four, besides avoiding the danger of either straining the instrument by accidentally moving the pedals and keys at the same time, er of striking both the flat and sharp notes at the same time, in rapid modulations. The accidental sharp or flat notes, which occur in some music, might also be readier introduced on such an instrument as Mr. Lofft alludes to, than on Mr. Hawke's instrument, In the tuning of the twelve notes in each octave, that are in common use, some authors and tuners advise, the ma king certain chords or intervals perfect, and others very nearly so; throwing the imperfection or temperament, wholly or in great part, on certain other intervals, called the bearing-notes, wolves, &c. So in like manner, when seventeen notes as above, twenty-one which the late Dr. Robert Smith used, or any other number of notes, are introduced in the octave (short of the whole number which Mr. Maxwell has shown to be necessary for perfect use) bearing notes or wolves must unavoidably be introduced, somewhere in the scale. I have not yet been able to learn the exact mode adopted for tuning each note on Mr. Hawke's patent instruments, or to obtain a table of his seventeen intervals, expressed by the major-tone, the minor-tone, and the hemitone 15 (or by any other musical notation), otherwise, I would point out the particular chords which are imperfect or tempered, in the use of these patent instruments, and the exact quantity or degree of temperament in each case. Mr. Hawkes, the patentee, or some other person acquainted with his mode of tuning, will, I hope, oblige me and others of your readers, by giving an account thereof, and such a table as I have mentioned, in afuture Number of the Monthly Magazine. P.S. Since writing the above, a musical friend has put into my hands a printed quarto copper-plate page, describing the use of the grand patent harmonic piano-forte, lately invented by D. Loeschman, of No. 28, Newof six pedals, produces seven scales of twelve man-street, Oxford-road, which, by the help notes each (two only of them being changed for others, by the use of the pedal belonging to each respective scale), making twenty-four notes or intonations in each octave of these instruments, which are pretended to produce eighteen major and fifteen minor keys in tune. Should these be the instruments to which Mr. Loft has alluded, I beg to inform him, that the calculations necessary for showing how well their pretentions to perfect tune intricate for the Monthly Magazine; and are formed, would be far too technical and would best appear in Mr. Tilloch's Philosophical Magazine, where a series of similar de tails have of late been inserted, and to whom I shall probably, ere long, make a communica、 tion on these patent instruments. ON FIORIN GRASS. YOUR Correspondent, at page 462 of vol. 28. who enquires about Fiorin Grass, will find that Dr. William Richardson has has repeatedly stated it to be the Agrostis Stolonifera of Linnæus; and which, he states, (strengthening the statement by the evidence of the Right Honourable Isaac Corry, who weighed it,) produced in one of his irrigated meadows in Ireland, the enormous crop of eight tons five cwt. two qrs, twenty-four lbs. of hay, from an English acre of ground!! The famous Wiltshire long grass meads at Orcheston, whose enormous crops of watered grass and hay, have so long at tracted attention, are of fiorin grass, as appears from the late Mr. Thomas Davis's account of them, in Mr. Young's Annals of Agriculture, 1794, vol. xxii. page 127. Your's, &c. J. FAREY. Vpper Crown-street, Westminster, December 5, 1809. For the Monthly Magazine. LYCEUM OF ANCIENT LITERATURE.-No. XXVII. A HORACE AND JUVENAL. S it has been usual, in order to depre- Since the publication of our last Number, it has occurred to us, that it would perhaps be better to close our observations upon Horace, than be compelled to return to him once more, probably after a very considerable interval. By drawing a comparison between him and Juvenal, the reader will be better able to take a view of their respective merits, as Satirists; and it will also render any future separate notice of the latter author, equally unnecessary. We shall annex, therefore, to this note, the few particulars that are known of his life. Juvenal was born about the beginning of the reign of Claudius, at Aquinum, a town belonging to the territory of the ancient Volsci, in Campania, and since celebrated for having given birth to Thomas, surnamed Aquinas, the father of scholastic philosophy. The poet's father appears to have been a rich freedman, who gave him a liberal education; and, agreeably to the taste of the age, bred him up to the study of eloquence. In this pursuit he is said to have been successful, and is conjectured to have received some lessons from Quintilian, who probably aliudes to him when, speaking of the Roman satire, he says, sunt clart bodié quoque et qui olim nominabuntur. (Inst. Orat. lib. 10. cap. i.) From the testimony of Martial, it may be supposed that Juvenal had long been distinguished by his eloquence, and greatly improved his fortuce and interest before he thought of poetry. Subactum redolent declamatorem, (say the critics;) and he was more than forty before he ventured to recite some verses, to a small audience of his most intimate friends. He Horace, we shall endeavour to show, that these two poets, who have, in some measure, divided the field of satire between them, pursued different objects, and attained equal success, by contrary methods; the one possessing a pleasing, the other a grave, manner. This method of viewing the subject, though it be rather moral than literary, will not, we trust, on this account be the less interesting. In pursuing it, we must attend to the circumstances under which each of these writers drew his picture of manners, and observe the difference in their characters. What we shall advance may, in some degree, apply to our modern satirists, who have scarcely had any other merit than that of borrowing, as their subject was gay or serious, or, as they proposed to flatter or instruct, the tone, the sentiments, and the ideas of one or other of these great masters. Horace, with equal sagacity, more taste, but considerably less energy than amusing rather than of reforming. It is Juvenal, seems to have been desirous of true the sanguinary revolution which had liberty, had not yet gone the length of just stifled the last efforts of Roman was encouraged, by their applause, to hazard a Experiar quid concedatur in illos Sat. 1. But he continued his keen sarcastic remarks upon the general vices of his times. He died Nostra bibat vernum contracta cuticula solem, In his person, he was of large stature, on absolutely absolutely debasing the minds of individuals; nor did manners exhibit that depravity, which they acquired afterwards in the reigns of Tiberius, Caligula, and Nero. The cruel, but politic, Augustus strewed with flowers the path he was silently opening to despotism; and the fine arts of Greece, transplanted round his capital, flourished under his auspices. The recollection of civil discords had rendered the restorer of peace an object of adoration ; the citizens of Rome were happy, that they could awake each day, without the apprehension of seeing their names included in a proscription: and the Romans, in a state of pupilage, and, sha dowed by the laurels of their ancestors, forgot, in the amphitheatre and circus, those civil rights for which their fathers had shown such jealousy during almost eight centuries. Tyranny had never so seducing a commencement. The illu sion was general: or if any one questioned the great nephew of Cæsar, concerning the tenure of his power, a single glance of the emperor reduced him to Lilence. Horace, who excelled as much as a courtier, as he was deficient as a soldier, and who was guided perhaps by a sense of interest, and a consciousness of incapacity to fulfil the duties of a genuine republican, in any way that could have distinguished him; was soon sensible, how far a refinement of intellect, a grace ful style, and a cultivated understanding, till then unknown among an ignorant and turbulent people, were capable, with very little effort, of advancing him. Politeness of manners, the splendour of an -imperial court, and above all, the security enjoyed during a long and peaceful reign, could not fail to please one, whose sole morality consisted in a calculation of his pleasures; and whose writings may be considered as one continued treatise on the art of enjoying the present, without regard to the evils which threaten posterity. Indifferent to the future, and easily forgetting the past, his only object was to remove every thing which could create melancholy, and disturb the charms of a life, which he had ingeniously reduced to a system. What indeed could be his motives for a different conduct? Esteemed by the emperor, the friend of Virgil, caressed by the great, and a partaker in all their pleasures, he could not affect the austerity, nor regret the rigid customs, of former times. Such sentiments would have ill corresponded with the views of Augustus and Mecenas, who had declared themselves his protectors. It is said, indeed, that Augustus had intimated a wish to abdicate, from which the other had prudently dissuaded him; for what success could the artificial character of the one, deprived of millions to execute his orders, or the useless urbanity of the other, have obtained among a people restored to their freedom? Such a design, perhaps never seriously entertained, was soon abandoned; and henceforth it was no longer permitted to speak, but in the language and posture of a slave. Horace, convinced that future ages, enchanted with his poetry, would give a passport to his name, saw that he could, with impunity, flatter, and become the accomplice of one, whose power no other could resist. Hence, the encomiums he so freely distributed, had a reference only to the circumstances of the moment, which he could turn to his advantage, and to persons whose patronage he was anxious to obtain. The names of many great characters who were his contemporaries, are not to be found in his writings. That of Ovid, who was in disgrace; that of Cicero, "whom Rome, during her freedom, had dignified with the first of all titles-the father of his country," are alike omitted. But he never forgets to celebrate the favourites of fortune. These had nothing to fear from his muse; gay, rather than severe, it indulged itself only at the expense of the lower classes, on whom neither his reputation nor his pleasures depended. No one understood better than himself the force of panegyric, how to apply it with address, or what were the arts most necessary to gain the favour of the great. character thus apparently so little enti tled to our esteem, and a species of writing at first sight adapted only to please the bland and pliant courtier, how comes it that the works of Horace are perused with delight, by men even of the soundest understanding? Because, as we advanced in a former paper, to these agreeable talents the client of Mecanas united many solid and eminent qualities. Not less a philosopher than a poet, it was with equal ease that he dictated prineiples of conduct, and laid down the rules of taste. Disposed rather to give way than to contend; attaching little impor tance to his own hypotheses, and adhering to his principles, so far only, as they favoured his Epicurean inclinations; this With a lax, but amiable poet, could reckon among his friends and admirers, even those whose opinions or conduct he had not scrupled to criticise. Let us now consider the rival satirist, who commenced his career where the other had finished; performing for morals and for freedom, what Horace had effected for decency and good taste. Horace had learnt to bear the yoke of a master, and had not blushed to deify tyranny and usurpation: while Juvenal never ceased to exclaim against both, and to recal to the Romans the glorious ages of their independance. The poet of Aquinum had force and passion in his character. His object was more praise-worthy than that of Horace. He wished to spread conster nation among the vicious, and exterminate corruption, which had become almost natural to the Romans. Bold, but useless enterprize! He wrote at a detestable period, when the laws of nature were violated with impunity; when all patriotism was extinct in the hearts of his countrymen. Such an age, brutified by servitude, by luxury, and all its accompanying crimes, required an executioner, rather than a censor. This was a time, when "the common ties of all being broken, all was crumbling to ruin." The Roman character had become so degraded, that no one dared to speak of liberty. Individuals were sensible only of their own misfortunes; and these they endeavoured to avoid by accusing others. Parents, friends, "even what was inanimate," became the objects of suspicion. The most endearing ties were disregarded, if the most distant idea of personal danger required they should be broken. was impossible to lament those who were proscribed, for even tears were punished. In a word, excepting some few moments of respite, the history of that execrable perind is marked by the blackest catalogue of human crimes, written in characters of blood; and presenting only a disgusting series of murders cffected by the bow-string, poison, or assassination.' It This, then, was the time when Juve nal, despising the feeble weapon of ridicule, so familiar to his predecessor, him self seized the dagger of satire, and run ning from the palace to the tavern, struck, without distinction, all who deviated from the paths of virtue. It was no longer, as with Horace, a supple poet, armed with philosophical indifference, who amused himself with the folhes of the day, and whose style, easy and fami liar, flowed at the will of a voluptuous instinct. It was an incorruptible Ceusor, a Roman with the tone of the ancient Fabii, Mantii, and Reguli; it was an inflamed poer, who sometimes rose, with his subject, to the sublime pitch of tragedy. Austere and uniform in his principles, every thing he uttered had a character of gravity and importance. His ridicule was more severe than lig censure; his laugh still more terrible than his anger. It was the laugh of Cassius, as described by our immortal Bard. He could speak of nothing but vice and virtue, slavery and liberty, folly and wisdom. On these subjects, he declaimed with animation, severity, and dignity. It may be said of him in his own words, "that he staked his life on what was true"-vitam impendere vero-having the courage to sacrifice all equivocal decorums to it, and all those political considerations, which are of so much moment with those, whose morality consists in exteriors. Upon this point, however, let it not be considered, that we are even attempting to defend him; on the contrary, we think he deserves the reproaches which every age has cast upon him, not only for proclaiming the dishonour of so many great names, but for giving an alarm to modesty which cannot be justified. It is true, that Horace, whose refinement has been perhaps too much extolled, was still more licentious, and has found unhappily the means of making vice amiable; and by revealing horrors, at which reason shudders, and which nature abhors, has shown, that he designed, like Juvenal, to mark the degree to which man might debase himself, when left to the guidance of appetite and effeminacy. With the exception of this defect, which belonged to the age, rather than to the author, there is little to censure in Juvenal. The spirit that dictated his writings, breathes only the public good. If he reproves what is ridiculous, it is only because it is connected with, or leads on to, vice. When he drags to the altar of infamy those whom he wishes to expose, his victims are so truly odious and detorined, that we can neither pity them, nor blame him. He is accused of being too sparing in his praises: but who that knows the human heart, and wishes neither to deceive others nor himself, can possibly be lavish of these? He has praised but little; the misery of the times dispensed him from it. All that he could do, was to compassionate a few that |