inclined to the opinion that the Jew's harp is
really a beautiful and important instrument.
M. Eulenstein was a still more eminent player.
He was an accomplished musician, and spent
many years in studying the capabilities of the
Jew's harp. He found that high tones and
low tones ought not to be attempted on the
same instrument; and that to produce fine
musical effects, two or more should be used,
each one limited to the production of a few
notes. He visited the principal European
capitals, giving concerts at which he employed
no less than sixteen Jew's harps; he played
two at a time, changing them during the
progress of a tune, and doing this so rapidly
and effectively as to make no break in the
continuity of the music. He afterwards
devised a mode of playing four at once,
connecting them by silken strings in such a way
that he could clasp all four with the lips, and
strike all the four springs at once. The
musical amateurs of those days were thrown
quite into extasies by this music; some said
the sounds were like those of the Æolian
harp, some likened them to a musical snuffbox,
some to musical glasses; while others
averred that the sounds were like themselves
and nothing else. No one ever played the
Jew's harp so well before, and no one is
likely ever to play it so well again; for, if
we mistake not, poor Eulenstein lost nearly
all his teeth, consequent on the peculiar
action to which they had during so many
years been exposed.
Our friend Thomas may have the satisfaction
of knowing, that although other musical
instruments dependent on the vibration of
metallic springs may be more costly and
pretentious than his penny Jew's harp, there is
really none which more beautifully illustrates
the principles whereon musical sounds are
produced.
Something like thirty years ago, a little
instrument was brought into notoriety under
the name of the Mouth Harmonica. It was
small; but like many other small things, it
had considerable power. It depended for its
sounds, like the Jew's harp, on the vibration
of metallic springs. Flat discs of metal were
pierced with oblong slits, which were
partially closed by long slips of metal fixed at one
end and free to vibrate at the other. According
to the size and shape of the slit, and the
thickness of the spring, so did each perforation
yield a particular note when breathed
upon by the mouth. If there were only one
cavity and spring, only one sound would be
heard, available as a pitch-pipe; if two, they
might yield two notes having the interval of
a musical fifth; if several, they might afford
scope for the production of a tune.
This humble affair, the Mouth Harmonica,
was a boyish trifie, a mere toy; but the same
principle produced the more efficient Eolina,
a little instrument from which we have heard
very delicate and beautiful sounds.
The Symphonion was a more accomplished
member of the same family, invented, we
believe, by Mr. Wheatstone. This, for effecting
much in a little space, altogether eclipsed its
predecessor. It was, in fact, a keyed Eolina,
possessing increased powers in virtue of its
keys. It was constructed in many different
shapes; but the gist of the instrument was,
that a current of air should be blown in by
the mouth; that the fingers should touch
small projecting pins; that these pins should
raise valves which covered apertures in a
metal plate; that the current should set in
vibration a set of tongues or metallic springs
adjusted to these apertures; and that musical
sounds should thus be produced, depending
in pitch on the length and thickness of the
springs.
The harmonious blacksmith, who makes
any of the above-named musically-vibrating
springs—be they for Jew's-harps, or
mouth-harmonicons, or eolinas, or symphonions—
supposes the player to supply a blast of air by
means of his mouth; and they thus form a
snug little group among themselves. But he
does not leave musical persons without an
alternative; he provides small bellows with
which the player can puff away by hand;
and thence arise the very pretty group known
by the very pretty names of the accordion,
the flutina, the concertina, &c. A vibrating
metallic spring is still the soul of each
instrument, as a few familiar details will enable
us readily to show.
The accordion is, in bulk, nothing more
than a pair of bellows, for the whole instrument
pants to and fro while being played;
but the interior mechanism of these bellows
is very ingenious. There are finger-keys for
the player to press upon; there are wire
levers connecting these keys with a row of
circular valves or stops; there are circular
holes which are alternately covered and
uncovered by these valves; there are oblong
apertures beneath the circular holes, and
metallic tongues in these oblong apertures, and
an open cavity beneath the metallic tongues.
There are as many keys .as there are valves
and circular holes; but there are two springs
behind each hole, attuned differently—
generally a whole tone between them. By opening
the bellows air rushes in through any
valve-hole which happens to have been opened
by the pressure of the player's finger on the
corresponding key, and produces one note by
the vibration of one spring; but when the
air rushes out again by the closing of the
bellows, it is forced into a path contiguous to
the other spring, and thus produces the other
tone. On the multitude of little matters
essential to the production of a good
accordion; on the key to act as a vent without
producing sound; on the extra key to
produce a harmonised chord or base—we need
not stop to dilate. Some varieties are called
flutinas, or flutina-accordions, claiming to
possess a peculiar quality of tone. The
well-made French accordions mount up in price
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