We now proceed to the consideration of a very remarkable acquirement of man, called Ventriloquism.

This is an art of speaking, by means of which the human voice and other sounds are rendered audible, as if they proceeded from several different places; though the utterer does not change his place, and in many instances does not appear to speak. It has been supposed to be a natural peculiarity; because few, if any persons, have learned it by being taught, and we have had no rules laid down for acquiring it. It seems to have been in consequence of this notion, that the name * Ventriloquism has been applied to it, from a supposition that the voice proceeds from the thorax or chest. It has seldom been practised but by persons of the lower classes of society; and as it does not seem to present any advantages beyond that of causing surprise and entertainment, and cannot be exhibited on an extended theatre, the probability is, that it will continue amongst them.

Mr. Gough, in his Manchester Memoirs, and in various parts of Nicholson's Journal, has entertained the opinion that the voice of ventriloquists is made to proceed, in appearance., from different parts of a room, by the management of an echo. But the facts themselves do not support this hypothesis, as a great and sudden variety and change of echoes would be required; and his own judicious remarks, in the same work, on the facility with which we are deceived as to the direction of sound, are adverse to his theory. From numerous attentive observations, it appears manifest that the art is not peculiar to certain individuals, but may with facility be acquired by any person of accurate observation. It consists merely in an imitation of sounds, as they occur in nature, accompanied with appropriate action, of such a description as may best concur in leading the minds of the observers to favour the deception.

Any one who shall try, will be a little surprised to find how easy it is to imitate the noise made by a saw, or by a snuff-box when opened and shut, or by a large hand-bell, or cork-cutter's knife, a watch while going, and numberless other inanimate objects; or the voices of animals, in their various situations and necessities, such as a cat, a dog, or an hen enraged, intimidated, confined, etc.; or to vary the character of the human voice by shrillness or depth of tone, rapidity or drawling of execution, and distinctness or imperfection of articulation, which may be instantly changed by holding the mouth a little more opened or more closed than usual, altering the position of the jaw, keeping the tongue in any determinate situation, etc. And every one of the imitations of the ventriloquist will be rendered more perfect by practising them at the very time the sounds are heard, instead of depending on the memory. The leading condition of performance is, that the voices and sounds of the dramatic dialogue to be exhibited, should succeed each other so rapidly that the audience should lose sight of the probability that one actor gives effect to the whole, and that where the business is simple, the aid of scenery or local circumstance should be called in.

We have seen an eminent philosopher of our own time, who had no previous practice of this art, but when speaking on the subject in a mixed company, took up a hat, and folding the flaps together, said, by way of example, "Suppose I had a small monkey in this hat;" and then cautiously putting his hand in, as if to catch it, he imitated the chatter of the sup posed struggling animal, at the same time that his own efforts to secure it had a momentary impression on the spectators, which left no time to question whether there was a monkey in it or not: this impression was completed when, the instant afterwards, he pulled out his hand as if hurt, and exclaimed, "He has bit me 1 It was not till then that the impression of the reality gave way to the diversion arising from the mimic art; and one of the company, even then, cried out, " Is there really a monkey in the hat?"

In this manner it was that, at the beginning of the last century, the famous Tom King, who is said to have been the first man who delivered public lectures on experimental philosophy in the country, was attended by the whole fashionable world, for a succession of many nights, to hear him "kill a calf." This performance was done in a separated part of the place of exhibition, into which the exhibiter retired alone; and the imagination of his polite hearers was taxed to supply the calf and three butchers, besides a dog who sometimes raised his voice, and was checked for his unnecessary exertions. It appears, from traditional narrative, that the calf was heard to be dragged in, not without some efforts and conversation on the part of the butchers, and noisy resistance from the calf; that they conversed on the qualities of the animal, and the profits to be expected from the veal; and that, as they proceeded, all the noises of knife and steel, of suspending the creature, and of the last fatal catastrophe, were heard in rapid succession, to the never-failing satisfaction of the attendants; who, upon the rise of the curtain, saw that all these imaginary personages had vanished, and Tom King alone remained to claim the applause.

A similar fact may be quoted in the person of that facetious gentleman, who has assumed and given celebrity to the name of Peter Pindar. This great poet, laughing at the proverbial poverty of his profession, is sometimes pleased to entertain his friends with singular effusions of the art we speak of. One of these is managed by a messenger announcing to the Doctor (in the midst of company) that a person wants to speak with him: he accordingly goes out, leaving the door a-jar, and immediately a female voice is heard, which, from the nature of the subject, appears to be that of the Poet's laundress, who complains of her pressing wants, disappointed •claims, and of broken promises no longer to be borne with patience. It is more easy to imagine than describe the mixed emotions of the audience. The scene, however, goes on by the Doctor's reply; who remonstrates, promises, and is rather angry at the time and place of this unwelcome visit. His antagonist unfortunately is neither mollified nor disposed to quit her ground. Passion increases on both sides, and the Doctor forgets himself so far as to threaten the irritated female; she defies him, and this last promise, very unlike the former ones, is followed by payment; a severe smack on the face is heard; the poor woman falls down stairs, with horrid outcries; the company, of course, rises in alarm, and the Doctor is found in a state of perfect tranquillity, apparently a stranger to the whole transaction.

A very able ventriloquist, Fitz-James, performed in public, in Soho-square, about four years ago. He personated various characters by appropriate dresses ; and by a command of the muscles of his face he could very much alter his appearance. He imitated many inanimate noises, and among others, a repetition of noises of the water machine at Marli. He conversed with some statues, which replied to him; and also with some persons supposed to be in the room above, and on the landing-place ; gave the watchman's cry, gradually approaching, and when he seemed opposite the window, Fitz-James opened it and asked what the time was, received the answer, and during his proceeding with his cry, Fitz-James shut the window, immediately upon which the sound became weaker, and at last insensible. In the whole of his performance, it was clear that the notions of the audience were governed by the auxiliary circumstances, as to direction, etc. This mimic had at least, six different habitual modes of speaking, which he could instantly adapt one after the other, and with so much rapidity, that when in a small closet, parted off in the room, he gave a long, confused, and impassioned debate of democrats (in French, as almost the whole of his performance was ;) it seemed to proceed from a multitude of speakers: and an inaccurate observer might have thought that several were speaking at once. A ludicrous scene of drawing a tooth was performed in the same manner.

These examples, and many more which might be added, are sufficient, in proof that ventriloquism is the art of mimicry, an imitation applied to sounds of every description, and attended with circumstances which produce an entertaining deception, and lead the hearers to imagine that the voice proceeds from different situations. When distant low voices are to be imitated, the articulation may be given with suffi cient distinctness, without moving the lips, or altering the countenance. It was by a supposed supernatural voice of this kind, from a ventriloquist, that the famous musical small coal man, Thomas Britton, received a warning of his death, which so greatly affected him, that he did not survive the affright.

The following quotation from Richerand's Physiology will be sufficient to give the reader a further idea of the mechanism of this singular art. "At first," says Richerand, " 1 had con jectured that a great portion of the air driven out by expiration did not pass out by the mouth and nostrils, but was swallowed and carried into the stomach, reflected in some part of the digestive canal, and gave rise to a real echo; but after having attentively observed this curious phenomenon, in Mr. Fitz-James, who represents it in its greatest perfection, I was enabled to convince myself that the name ventriloquism is by no means applicable, since the whole of its mechanism consists in a slow gradual expiration, drawn in such a very that the artist either makes use of the influence exerted if volition over the muscles or parietis of the thorax, or that he keeps the epiglottis down by the base of the tongue, the apex of which is not carried beyond the dental arches.

" He always makes a strong inspiration just before this long expiration, and thus conveys a considerable mass of air into the lungs, the exit of which he afterwards manages with such address. Therefore, repletion of the stomach greatly incom modes the talent of Mr. Fitz-James, by preventing the dia phiagm from descending sufficiently to admit of a dilatation of the thorax, in proportion to the quantity of air that the lungs should receive. By accelerating or retarding the exit of the air, he can imitate different voices, and induce his au-ditors to a belief that the interlocutors of a dialogue, which is kept up by himself alone, are placed at different distances; and this illusion is the more complete in proportion to the perfection of his peculia- talent. No man possesses, to such a degree as Mr. Fitz-James, the art of deceiving persons who are least liable to delusion, he can carry his execution to five or six different tones, pass rapidly from one to another, as he does when representing an animated dispute in the midst of a popular assembly."

Some persons are of opinion that the witch of Endor was a ventriloquist, and that she practised this art before King Saul, and deceived him in the resurrection of Samuel; the present writer, however, does not vouch for this opinion.