Nuttall is likewise arrayed with the witnesses for quantity rather than quality of sound. Of the dying song, he says, “These doleful strains were heard at the dawn of day or when the winds and waves were still, and, like the syrinx of Pan, were in all probability nothing more than the murmurs and sighs of the wind through the marshes and forests graced and frequented by these elegant aquatic birds.” Speaking of the natives of Iceland comparing their notes, “very flatteringly,” to those of a violin, he suggests that “allowance be made for this predilection, when it is remembered that they hear this cheerful clarion at the close of a long and gloomy winter, and when, at the return of the swan, they listen to the harbinger of approaching summer; every note must be, therefore, melodious, which presages the speedy thaw and return of life and verdure to that gelid coast.” He adds that “it emits its notes only when flying or calling on its companions—the sound being very loud and shrill, but by no means disagreeable when heard high in the air and modulated by the winds.”
Of the “Peaceful Monarch of the Lake,” Thomas Bewick wrote: “Much has been said, in ancient times, of the singing of the Swan, and many beautiful and poetical descriptions have been given of its dying song. ‘No fiction of natural history, no fable of antiquity, was ever more celebrated, oftener repeated, or better received; it occupied the soft and lively imagination of the Greeks; poets, orators, and even philosophers, adopted it as a truth too pleasing to be doubted.’ ‘The dull, insipid truth,’ however, is very different from such amiable and affecting fables, for the voice of the swan, singly, is shrill, piercing and harsh, not unlike the sound of a clarionet when blown by a novice in music. It is, however, asserted by those who have heard the united and varied voices of a numerous assemblage of them, that they produce a more harmonious effect, particularly when softened by the murmur of the waters.”
To Cassell the voice of the swan “is low, soft and musical, and when heard from multitudes congregated together has a very pleasing effect.” Shakespeare repeatedly alludes to the music of the swan with manifest confidence in its melody; Pallas, the ornithologist, likens their notes to silver bells; and Olaffson says that in the long Polar night it is delightful to hear a flock passing overhead, the mixture of sounds resembling trumpets and violins.
So now, though we no longer know that the soul of the poet returns to float, the embodiment of rhythmic grace, before our mortal eyes as in the years so long gone by, there yet remains to us the splendid imagery of that stately form in spotless plumage against the setting of the darkening sea, the wonder of that solemn requiem, and the prophecy and the mystery of the shadowy orchestra passing onward in the depths of the midnight sky.
Juliette A. Owen.
BLACK PEPPER.
FROM KŒHLER’S MEDICINAL-PFLANZEN.
Description of Plate—A, flowering twig; 1, portion of spike; 2, ovary with stamens; 3, stamens; 4, young fruit; 5, 6, portions of spike (colors are wrong, 5 should be red and 6 should be green); 7, 8, fruit.
PEPPER.
(Piper nigrum L.)
The pepperer formed an important member of the community in England during the Middle Ages, when a large proportion of food consumed was salted meat, and pepper was in high request as a seasoner.—S. Dowell, Taxes in England, IV. 35.