crowded to excess, but of all the specimens of humbug ever brought forward to exercise the patience of the public, this was by far the most splendid. From the puffs in the papers about this man, the audience expected to hear something extraordinary. A man with a compass of voice of six octaves, equal to that of a pianoforte, is certainly not to be heard every day-no more is a concert of squeaking pigs and bull calves, which would be quite equal to any performance of this impostor. The man has no voice at all; he makes a noise, 'tis true, and so does a jackass; but this son of Jacob has neither tone, nor volume, nor compass, to entitle him for a moment to claim the rank of singer. When he pretends to sing in his falsetto, for instance, he makes a wretched squalling noise, that no singer would ever think it possible any audience would suffer to be repeated. His lower tones he blows out; it is not singing, but a sort of grunting. When he uses his tenor, he sings out of time and tune, and makes the most intolerable cadences and villainous shakes that ever proceeded from the throat of mortal man. Jacobowitch treated his company to a bass air from Mozart's Zauberflote Opera. Nothing worse can be conceived. There was a general feeling of disapprobation-the ladies tittered, the gentlemen laughed outright. How professional gentlemen can reconcile to themselves giving testimonials of this man's abilities, we know not; it was sufficiently clear to all present that he has no pretensions to them whatever. Every body to-day is talking about the hoax-all are unanimously of opinion it was a complete one." Yet so much do our fashionables wish to be thought musical, who have " no music in their souls;" that this fellow actually took with him from Brighton testimonials from the Rev. Mr. Fennell, Dr. Peithman, and Mr. and Mrs. Ward, to add to the budget with which he has imposed on so many already. We feel great pleasure in adding to the popularity of Mr. Jacobowitch by giving a place to the following amusing jeu d'esprit from the Brighton Guardian. AN EPISTLE FROM DOLLY TO No doubt, my dear Granny, you've often heard tell, Of that Prince of all Humbugs, the wand'ring BLONDEL;* * Another musical humbug who has been lately prowling about the country, and mixing By croaking and strumming upon the Chain Pier; Who struck both our libraries mute with surprise, That thought him a Baron or Prince in disguise; This amateur beggar, who found of John Bull, That if empty his head, yet his pockets were full; Whilst John in amaze, with his mouth all ajar, Looked as though he had ne'er before seen a guitar. Methinks I behold him pursuing his trade, Was the orchestra led by MARTENO, M.D. Who was what Lady Morgan would call a top-sawyer; And M. D. must surely mean "Music Destroyer;" For ne'er did the bitterest foe to sweet strains, To murder an Overture take so much pains, As he, with his fiddlestick, strove to undo "The glory of England at famed Waterloo." + Knees, elbows, and all, went to work-Oh! ye gods! What rasping and scraping, what stamps and what nods! Then his attitudes too!-each was well worth But his impudence ended with trying to sing, I mean,-put to the torture,-poor God save the King. You never, dear Granny, have heard in your days, Such screams in the treble, such groans in the bass; One cannot describe by the power of speaking, This compound of roaring, and grunting, and squeaking. Suffice it to say that we pay for it still, At the loss of his cash poor papa is quite furious; He sits in his chair and does nothing but cry, "Of the shame of this take-in I surely shall die." Varieties. BEAU BRUMMELL AND ALDERMAN COMBE. The late Alderman Combe was a great gamester, and made as much money by his dexterity at play, as he did by brewing. One evening, whilst he filled the office of Lord Mayor of London, he was busily engaged at a full hazard-table at Brookes's, where the wit and the dice-box circulated together with great glee, and where Beau Brummell was one of the party. "Come, Mash-tub," said Brummell, who was the caster, "what do you set?" "Twenty-five guineas," answered the Alderman. "Well, then," returned the beau, "have at the Mayor's pony only-and seven's the main. He continued to throw until he drove home the brewer's twelve ponies, running; and then getting up, and making him a low bow, whilst pocketing the cash, heexclaimed, "Thank you, Alderman; for the future I shall never drink any porter but your's." “I wish, Sir," replied the brewer, "that every other blackguard in London would tell me the same." HAWKING NOT SHOOTING. A poor country hawker being detected in the act of shooting a butcher bird, was taken before a justice, "So, fellow," cried Mittimus, " you think fit to shoot without a license, aye ?" "Oh, no, your honor," cried the offender, "I have a licence for hawking!" so saying, he handed him his pedlar's license, and the bird shot being proved a hawk, the man was discharged. PHENOMENON AND PHENOMENA. The Rev. J. L. Garret was met, a few years ago, by a young ecclesiastic of Oxford University, accompanied by a few pupils under * By gamesters, 25 guineas (rolled up in paper) are called a Pony, and 50, a Rouleau. ANECDOTE OF DEAN SWIFT. Swift always sat at the head of his own table, and opposite to him. stood a large pier glass, so that he could see whatever his servants did at the sideboard behind his chair. He was served wholly with plate, and in great elegance. The beef being one day over-roasted, he sent into the kitchen and do it less; the for the cook, and told her to take it girl innocently answered that she could not. "Why, what a hussy you are, says the Dean, "to commit a fault which cannot be mended!" Then, turning to a gentleman who sat next to him, he said very gravely, that as the cook was a woman of genius, he should, by this mode of arguing, convince her, in a year's time, that she had better send the meat up too little than too much done; at the same time, he ordered the men-servants, that whenever they thought the meat was ready, they should take it up, spit and all, and bring it to him by force, promising to assist them if the cook should be rebellious. A REPROOF. The late Dowager Countess of Rossmore being at church one day, on an occasion which drew together a crowded congregation, a lady was ushered into her pew, magnificently attired. When the collection (as is customary in Irish churches) was made, the fair one gave no more, than two or three pence, which it seems quite shocked Lady Rossmore, who was ever remarkably munificent in her charities; for, upon the conclusion of the service, she turned to the stranger, and with great dignity, uttered a reproof, only excusable, perhaps, from the age, rank, and well-known oddity of the reprover: "Really Madam, it does surprise me, that a lady. like you, dressed in that very handsome new pelisse, and elegant bon-. net, and evidently occupying an exalted station in society, should have no more to bestow upon the poor, than a few paltry half-pence." So saying, the Countess quitted the pew, leaving her astounded companion to the sweets of reflection ! Bright wreath!-thy vermeil flow'rets seen Fierce desolation's fellest blast! Faintly my sad heart beats, beneath OF AMUSEMENT AND INSTRUCTION, IN HISTORY, SCIENCE, LITERATURE, THE FINE ARTS, &c. The capital of Ireland ranks next to the metropolis of Great Britain, in extent, in population, and in architectural magnificence. The public buildings are remarkable, not only for the classic elegance of their designs, but for their magnitude, convenience, and number: and the principal streets form spacious avenues enclosed by lofty and welldesigned mansions on either side, and are generally inclined to each other at such angles as do not fail to produce the most picturesque effects, and the most agreeable city views. The river Liffey, on whose banks the city stands, is enclosed by walls of square granite stone, forming two VOL. I. |