Before we take the reader into the precise and minute instructions which he will have to study and practice ere he can become the possessor of the coveted art, it will be necessary to inform him what Ventriloquism1 is, and in what it consists. In doing so, we shall endeavor to be as plain and clear as possible. Ventriloquism may be divided into two sections, or general heads, the first of which may be appropriately designated as Polyphonism, and consists of the simple imitation of the voices of human creatures, of animals, of musical instruments, and sounds and noises of every description in which no illusion is intended, but where, on the contrary, the imitation is avowedly executed by the mimic, amongst which we may classify sawing, planing, door-creaking, sounds of musical instruments, and other similar imitations.

Secondly, we have ventriloquism proper, which consists in the imitation of such voices,, sounds, and noises, not as originating in him, but in some other appropriate source at a given or varying distance, in any or even in several directions, either singly or together—a process exciting both wonder and amusement, and which may be accomplished by thousands who have hitherto viewed the ventriloquist as invested with a power wholly denied by nature to themselves. It is needless to observe, that when the imitations are effected without a movement of mouth, features, or body, the astonishment of the audience is considerably enhanced.

The terms polyphony, mimicry, or imitation, are employed to designate results obtained in reference to the first division of the subject, where no illusion is intended; while the term ventriloquism distinguishes those under the second division, where an illusion is palpably produced. The first is much more common than the latter; indeed, there is scarcely a public school which does not possess at least one boy capable of imitating the mewing of a cat, the barking of a dog, or the squeaking voice of an old woman. On the other hand, from a want of the knowledge of how to proceed, it is very seldom that even a blundering attempt at ventriloquism is heard, except from a public platform.

There have been many statements put forward defining ventriloquism, but we are decidedly of opinion that the theory of two of the most celebrated of foreign ventriloquists, Baron de Mengen and M. St. Gille, who were sufficiently unselfish to avow the secret of their art, is not only the most correct, but it is at once the most reasonable and the most natural.

From Baron de Mengen’s account of himself, and the observations made by M. de la Chapelle, in his frequent examinations of St. Gille, whom we shall afterwards refer to, it seems that the factitious ventriloquist voice does not (as the etymology of the word imports) proceed from the belly, but is formed in the inner parts of the mouth and throat.

The art does not depend on a particular structure or organization of these parts, but may be acquired by almost any one ardently desirous of attaining it, and determined to persevere in repeated trials.

The judgments we form concerning the situation and distance of bodies, by means of the senses mutually assisting and correcting each other, seem to be entirely founded on experience; and we pass from the sign to the thing signified by it immediately, or at least without any intermediate steps perceptible to ourselves.

Hence it follows that if a man, though in the same room with another, can by any peculiar modifications of the organs of speech, produce a sound which, in faintness, tone, body, and every other sensible quality, perfectly resembles a sound delivered from the roof of an opposite house, the ear will naturally, without examination, refer it to that situation and distance; the sound which he hears being only a sign, which from infancy he has become accustomed, by experience, to associate with the idea of a person speaking from a house-top. A deception of this kind is practised with success on the organ and other musical instruments.

Rolandus, in his “Aglossostomographia,” mentions, that if the mediastinum, which is naturally a single membrane, be divided into two parts, the speech will seem to come out of the breast, so that the bystanders will fancy the person possessed.

Mr. Gough, in the “Manchester Memoirs,” vol. v. part ii. p. 622 London, 1802, investigates the method whereby men judge by the ear of the position of sonorous bodies relative to their own persons.

This author observes, in general that a sudden change in direction of sound, our knowledge of which, he conceives, does not depend on the impulse in the ear, but on other facts, will be perceived when the original communication is interrupted, provided there be a sensible echo. This circumstance will be acknowledged by any person who has had occasion to walk along a valley, intercepted with buildings, at the time that a peal of bells is ringing in it. The sound of the bells, instead of arriving constantly at the ears of the person so situated, is frequently reflected in a short time from two or three different places. These deceptions are, in many cases, so much diversified by the successive interpositions of fresh objects, that the steeple appears, in the hearer’s judgment, to perform the part of an expert ventriloquist on a theatre—the extent of which is adapted to its own powers, and not to those of the human voice.

The similarity of effect which connects this phenomenon with ventriloquism, convinced the author, whenever he heard it, that what we know to be the cause in one instance, is also the cause in the other, viz., that the echo reaches the ear, while the original sound is intercepted by accident in the case of the bells but by art, in the case of the ventriloquist.

It is the business of the ventriloquist to amuse his admirers with tricks resembling the foregoing delusion; and it will be readily granted that he has a subtle sense, highly corrected by experience to manage, on which account the judgment must be cheated as well as the ear.

This can only be accomplished by making the pulses, constituting his words strike the heads of his hearers, not in the right lines that join their persons and his. He must therefore, know how to disguise the true direction of his voice; because the artifice will give him an opportunity to substitute almost any echo he chooses in the place of it. But the superior part of the human body has been already proved to form an extensive seat of sound, from every point of which the pulses are repelled as if they diverge from a common centre. This is the reason why people, who speak in the usual way, cannot conceal the direction of their voices, which in reality fly off towards all points at the same instant. The ventriloquist, therefore, by some means or other, acquires the difficult habit of contracting the field of sound within the compass of his lips, which enables him to confine the real path of his voice to narrow limits. For he who is master of his art has nothing to do but to place his mouth obliquely to the company, and to dart his words out of his mouth—if the expression may be used—whence they will then strike the ears of the audience as that from an unexpected quarter. Nature seems to fix no bounds to this kind of deception, only care must be taken not to let the path of the direct pulses pass too near the head of the person who is played upon, but the divergency of the pulses make him perceive the voice itself. Our readers will, therefore, not be surprised that the French Academy adopted this view of the subject, and laid down that the art consists in an accurate imitation of any given sound as it reaches the ear. In conformity with a theory so incontrovertible, physiologists have suggested a variety of movements of the vocal organs to explain still further the originating cause; and some have gone so far as to contend for a peculiarity of structure in these organs as an essential requirement; but they have wisely omitted to specify what. Nothing, however, can be more accurate than the description of “the essence” of ventriloquy in the “English CyclopÆdia”—namely, that it “consists in creating illusions as to the distance and direction whence a sound has travelled.” How those sounds are produced, we shall show in another chapter,

VENTRILOQUISM AMONGST THE ANCIENTS.

Charles Lamb gave utterance to the thought that it was “pleasant to contemplate the head of the Ganges,” but the student of ventriloquism finds it difficult to obtain a view of the source of his art. In the dim and misty ages of antiquity, he may trace under various guises the practice of it. Many of the old superstitions were fostered by its means; from the cradle of mankind to the birthplace of idolatry, we incidentally learn of the belief in a familiar spirit—a second voice, which afterwards took the form of divination.

The various kinds of divination amongst the nations of antiquity which were stated by the priesthood to be by a spirit, a familiar spirit, or a spirit of divination, are now supposed to have been effected by means of ventriloquism. Divination by a familiar spirit can be tracked through a long period of time. By reference to Leviticus xx. 27 it will be seen that the Mosaic law forbade the Hebrews to consult those having familiar spirits, and to put to death the possessor. The Mosaic law was given about fifteen hundred years before Christ. Divining by a familiar spirit was, however, so familiar to the Jews, that the prophet Isaiah draws a powerful illustration from the kind of voice heard in such divination, see Isaiah xxix. 4.

There can be little doubt but the Jews became acquainted with this voice during their compulsory captivity in Egypt. In many of the mysteries which accompanied the worship of Osiris, the unearthly voice speaking from hidden depths of unknown heights was common. Some philosophers have imagined that a series of tubes and acoustical appliances were used to accomplish these mysterious sounds. The statute of Memnon will instantly suggest itself as a familiar instance. The gigantic stone-head was heard to speak when the first rays of the worshipped sun glanced on its impassive features. The magic words were undoubtedly pronounced by the attendant priest, for we find a similar trick prevalent throughout the whole history of ventriloquism, and even now the public professors of the art know how much depends on fixing the attention of their audience on the object or place from whence the sound is supposed to proceed. The Jews carried the art with them into Palestine, for we trace the agency throughout their history.

The Greeks practised a mode of divination termed gastromancy, where the diviner replied without moving his lips, so that the consulter believed he heard the actual voice of a spirit speaking from its residence within the priest’s belly.

In the Acts of the Apostles (xvi. 16), mention is made of a young woman with a familiar spirit meeting the Apostles in the city of Philippi, in Macedonia,—St. Chrysostom and other early Fathers of the Christian Church mention divination by a familiar spirit as practised in their day. The practice of similar divination is still common in the East; it lingers on the banks of the Nile, and is even practised among the Esquimaux. This divination by a familiar spirit has been practised upwards of three thousand years.

MODERN PROFESSORS OF THE ART.

The earliest notice of ventriloquial illusion, as carried out in modern times, has reference to Louis Brabant, valet-de-chambre of Francis I., who is said to have fallen in love with a beautiful and rich heiress, but was rejected by the parents as a low, unsuitable match. However, the father dying, he visits the widow; and on his first appearance in the house she hears herself accosted in a voice resembling that of her dead husband, and which seemed to proceed from above. “Give my daughter in marriage to Louis Brabant, who is a man of great fortune and excellent character. I now endure the inexpressible torments of purgatory, for having refused her to him; obey this admonition and I shall soon be delivered; you will provide a worthy husband for your daughter, and procure everlasting repose to the soul of your poor husband.”

The dread summons, which had no appearance of proceeding from Louis, whose countenance exhibited no change, and whose lips were close and motionless, was instantly complied with; but the deceiver, in order to mend his finances for the accomplishment of the marriage contract, applies to one Cornu, an old and rich banker at Lyons, who had accumulated immense wealth by usury, and extortion, and was haunted by remorse of conscience. After some conversation on demons and spectres, the pains of purgatory, &c., during an interval of silence, a voice is heard, like that of the banker’s deceased father, complaining of his dreadful situation in purgatory, and calling upon him to rescue him from thence, by putting into the hands of Louis Brabant, then with him, a large sum for the redemption of Christians in slavery with the Turks; threatening him at the same time with eternal damnation if he did not thus expiate his own sins. Upon a second interview, in which his ears were saluted with the complaints and groans of his father, and of all his deceased relations, imploring him, for the love of God, and in the name of every saint in the calendar, to have mercy on his own soul and others, Cornu obeyed the heavenly voice, and gave Louis 10,000 crowns, with which he returned to Paris, and married his mistress.

The works of M. L’Abbe La Chapelle, issued 1772, and before alluded to, contain descriptions of the ventriloquial achievements of Baron Mengen at Vienna; and those of M. St. Gille, near Paris, are equally interesting and astonishing. The former ingeniously constructed a doll with moveable lips, which he could readily control by a movement of the fingers under the dress; and with this automaton he was accustomed to hold humorous and satirical dialogues. He ascribed proficiency in his art to the frequent gratification of a propensity for counterfeiting the cries of the lower animals, and the voices of persons with whom he was brought in contact. So expert, indeed, had practice rendered him in this way, that the sounds uttered by him did not seem to issue from his own mouth. La Chapelle, having heard many surprising circumstances related concerning one M. St. Gille, a grocer at St. Germainen-Laye, near Paris, whose powers as a ventriloquist had given occasion to many singular and diverting scenes, formed the resolution of seeing him. Being seated with him on the opposite side of a fire, in a parlor on the ground floor, and very attentively observing him, the Abbe, after half an hour’s conversation with M. St. Gille, heard himself called, on a sudden, by his name and title, in a voice that seemed to come from the roof of a house at a distance; and whilst he was pointing to the house from which the voice had appeared to him to proceed, he was yet more surprised at hearing the words, “it was not from that quarter,” apparently in the same kind of voice as before, but which now seemed to issue from under the earth at one of the corners of the room. In short, this factitious voice played, as it were, everywhere about him, and seemed to proceed from any quarter or distance from which the operator chose to transmit it to him. To the Abbe, though conscious that the voice proceeded from the mouth of M. St. Gille, he appeared absolutely mute while he was exercising his talent; nor could any change in his countenance be discovered. But he observed that M. St. Gille presented only the profile of his face to him while he was speaking as a ventriloquist.

On another occasion, M. St. Gille sought for shelter from a storm in a neighboring convent; and finding the community in mourning, and inquiring the cause, he was told that one of their body, much esteemed by them, had lately died. Some of their religious attended him to the church, and showing him the tomb of their deceased brother, spoke very feelingly of the scanty honors that had been bestowed on his memory, when suddenly, a voice was heard, apparently proceeding from the roof of the choir, lamenting the situation of the defunct in purgatory, and reproaching the brotherhood with their want of zeal on his account. The whole community being afterwards convened in the church, the voice from the roof renewed its lamentations and reproaches, and the whole convent fell on their faces, and vowed a solemn reparation. Accordingly, they first chanted a De profundis in full choir; during the intervals of which the ghost occasionally expressed the comfort he received from their pious exercises and ejaculations in his behalf. The prior, when this religious service was concluded, entered into a serious conversation with M. St. Gille, and inveighed against the incredulity of our modern sceptics and pretended philosophers on the article of ghosts and apparitions; and St. Gille found it difficult to convince the fathers that the whole was a deception.

M. St. Gille, in 1771, submitted his attainments in this direction to several experiments before MM. Leroy and Fouchy, Commissioners of the Royal Academy of Sciences, and other persons of exalted rank, in order to demonstrate that his mimicry was so perfect as to reach the point of complete illusion. For this purpose a report was circulated that a spirit’s voice had been heard at times in the environs of St. Germain, and that the commission was appointed to verify the fact. The company, with the exception of one lady, were apprised of the real nature of the case, the intention being to test the strength of the illusion upon her. The arrangement was that they should dine together in the country, in the open air; and while they were at table, the lady was addressed in a supernatural voice, now coming from the top of adjoining trees, then descending until it approached her, next receding and plunging into the ground, where it ceased. For upwards of two hours was this startling manifestation continued with such adroitness that she was convinced the voice belonged to a person from another world, and subsequent explanation failed to convince her to the contrary.

M. Alexandre, the famous ventriloquist, had an extraordinary facility in counterfeiting all the expressions of countenance and bodily conditions common to humanity. When in London, his mimetic powers, which he was fond of exercising both in public and private, made his company in high request among the upper circles. The Lord Mayor of the City, in particular, received the ventriloquist with great distinction, and invited him several times to dine at the Mansion House. But it unluckily happened that on every occasion when M. Alexandre dined there, he could not stay to spend the evening, having contracted engagements elsewhere. The Lord Mayor expressed much regret at this, and the ventriloquist himself was annoyed on the same account, being willing to do his best to entertain the guests whom the Lord Mayor had asked each time to meet him.

At last, on meeting M. Alexandre one day, the Lord Mayor engaged him to dine at the Mansion House on a remote day. “I fix it purposely,” said his lordship, “at so distant a period, because I wish to make sure this time of your remaining with us through the evening.” Through fear of seeming purposely to slight his lordship, M. Alexandre did not dare to tell the Mayor that on that very morning he had accepted an invitation from a nobleman of high rank to spend at his house the evening of the identical day so unfortunately pitched on by the civic dignitary. All the ventriloquist said in reply was, “I promise, my lord to remain at the Mansion House, till you, yourself think it time for me to take my leave.” “Ah, well,” said the Lord Mayor, and he went off perfectly satisfied.

At the appointed day Alexandre sat himself down at the magistrate’s board. Never had the ventriloquist comported himself with so much spirit and gaiety. He insisted on devoting bumpers to each and every lady present.

The toasts went round, the old port flowed like water, and the artiste in particular seemed in danger of loosing his reason under its potent influence. When others stopped, he stopped not, but continued filling and emptying incessantly. By and by, his eyes began to stare, his visage became purple, his tongue grew confused, his whole body seemed to steam of wine, and finally he sank from his chair in a state of maudlin, helpless insensibility.

Regretting the condition of his guest, the Lord Mayor got him quietly lifted, and conveyed to his own carriage, giving orders for him to be taken home to his lodgings. As soon as M. Alexandre was deposited there, he became a very different being. It was now ten o’clock, and but half an hour was left to him to prepare for his appointed visit to the Duke of ——’s soiree. The ventriloquist disrobed himself, taking first from his breast a quantity of sponge which he had placed beneath his waist coat, and into the pores of which he had, with a quick and dexterous hand, poured the greater portion of the wine which he had apparently swallowed.

Having washed from his person all tokens of his simulated intoxication, and dressed himself anew, M. Alexandre then betook himself to the mansion of the nobleman to whom he had engaged himself.

On the following day the fashionable newspapers gave a detailed account of the grand party at his Grace the Duke of ——’s, and eulogized to the skies the entertaining performances of M. Alexandre, who, they said, had surpassed himself on this occasion. Some days afterwards, the Lord Mayor encountered M. Alexandre. “Ah, how are you?” said his lordship. “Very well, my lord,” was the reply. “Our newspapers are pretty pieces of veracity,” said his lordship. “Have you seen the Courier of the other day? Why, it makes you out to have exhibited in great style last Thursday night at his Grace of ——’s!” “It has but told the truth,” said the mimic. “What? impossible!” cried the Mayor. “You do not remember, then, the state into which you unfortunately got at the Mansion House?” And thereupon the worthy magistrate detailed to the ventriloquist the circumstances of his intoxication, and the care that had been taken with him, with other points of the case. M. Alexandre heard his lordship to an end, and then confessed the stratagem which he had played off, and the cause of it.

“I had promised,” said Alexandre, “to be with his Grace at half-past ten. I had also promised not to leave you till you yourself considered it fit time. I kept my word in both cases—you know the way.” The civic functionary laughed heartily, and on the following evening Alexandre made up for his trick by making the Mansion House ring with laughter till daylight.

Many anecdotes are told respecting M. Alexandre’s power of assuming the faces of other people. At Abbotsford, during a visit there, he actually sat to a sculptor five times in the character of a noted clergyman, with whose real features the sculptor was well acquainted. When the sittings were closed and the bust modelled, the mimic cast off his wig and assumed dress, and appeared with his own natural countenance, to the terror almost of the sculptor, and to the great amusement of Sir Walter and others who had been in the secret.

Of this most celebrated ventriloquist it is related that on one occasion he was passing along the Strand, when a friend desired a specimen of his abilities. At this instant a load of hay was passing along near Temple Bar, when Alexandre called attention to the suffocating cries of a man in the centre of the hay. A crowd gathered round and stopped the astonished carter, and demanded why he was carrying a fellow-creature in his hay. The complaints and cries of the smothered man now became painful, and there was every reason to believe that he was dying. The crowd, regardless of the stoppage to the traffic, instantly proceeded to unload the hay into the street. The smothered voice urged them to make haste, but the feelings of the people may be imagined when the cart was empty and nobody was found, while Alexandre and his friend walked off laughing at the unexpected results of their trick.

It would be obviously invidious to compare the merits of living professors. Mr. Maccabe, Mr. Gallagher, Mr. Thurton and Mr. Macmillan have long been favorites with the public.

THE THEORY OF VENTRILOQUISM.

Many physiologists aver that ventriloquism is obtained by speaking during the inspiration of air. It is quite possible to articulate under these circumstances, and the plan may with advantage be occasionally adopted; but our own practical experience and close observation of many public performers, and of not a few private friends who have attained distinctness and no small amount of facility in the art, convince us that the general current of utterance is, as in ordinary speech, during expiration of the breath. Some imagine that the means of procuring the required imitation are comprised in a thorough management of the echoes of sound. Unfortunately, however, for this theory, an echo only repeats what has been already brought into existence. Several eminent ventriloquists, including the late Mr. Matthews, have displayed the vocal illusion while walking in the streets. Baron Mengen describes as follows his mode of speaking, when he desired the illusion to take the direction of a voice emanating from the doll: “I press my tongue against the teeth, and then circumscribe a cavity between my left check and teeth, in which the voice is produced by the air held in reserve in the pharynx. The sounds thus receive a hollow and muffled tone, which causes them to appear to come from a distance.” The Baron furthermore mentions that it is essential to have the breath well under control, and not to respire more than can be avoided. M. St. Gille was seen to look somewhat exhausted when the vocal illusion grew less perfect. We ourselves, and all ventriloquists with whom we have conferred, have acknowledged that they have experienced fatigue in the chest, and have attributed it to the slow expiration of the breath. M. St. Gille, with the majority of ventriloquists, was often compelled to cough during the progress of his exercitation.

To attain an exact and positive knowledge of the modifications of voice specified as ventriloquism, it is important to be familiar with the distinctions of the sounds uttered by the mouth; and to ascertain how the organs act in producing those vocal modifications, it is necessary to know how the breath is vocalized in all distinctions of pitch, loudness, and quality, by the ordinary actions of the vocal organs. In ordinary language, we speak of noise, of common sound, and of musical sound-terms employed by Dr. Thomas Young in illustrating the mechanical agencies of articulation:—“A quill striking against a piece of wood causes a noise, but striking successively against the teeth of a wheel, or of a comb, a continued sound, and, if the teeth of the wheel are at equal distances, and the velocity of the rotation is constant, a musical sound. The general terms—pitch, loudness, quality, and duration, embrace all the distinctions with which the musician has to deal, and which he uses in his art.”

The distinguishing feature of musical sound is its uniform pitch throughout its duration, and acoustically musical sound is composed of an equal number of impulses or noises produced in equal tones.

The general terms—pitch, loudness, quality, and duration, also embrace all the distinctions heard in ordinary sounds. These sounds differ from the musical in the pitch constantly varying throughout their duration, as the human voice in speaking, and the voice of quadrupeds. Acoustically such sounds are composed of an unequal number of impulses or noises produced in equal tones. And from this circumstance pitch, in the strictly musical sense, is not a property of ordinary sound.

The general terms—loudness and quality, embrace all the distinctions heard in a noise, as in the collision of two unelastic sticks. Pitch and duration can scarcely be considered as belonging to common noise. Thus we have—(1) noise whose audible distinctions are comprehended under the general terms loudness and quality; (2) common sound, whose audible distinctions are comprehended under the general terms—loudness, quality, duration, and every varying pitch; (3) musical sound, whose audible distinctions are comprehended under the general terms—loudness, quality, duration, and uniform pitch.

Phonation, or the production of voice, is a result of actions taking place under two distinct classes of laws—namely, the ordinary mechanical laws of acoustics, and the physiological laws of muscular movement. The adjustment of the vocal mechanism to be brought into operation by the current of air, is made by actions under the latter laws; and phonation is the result of the reaction of the mechanism on the current of air, by mechanical movements under the former laws. Now, the pitch of the voice essentially depends on the tension of the vocal ligaments; the loudness or the extent of the excursion of these ligaments in their vibration; the duration on the continuance of the vocalizing causes; the quality on the organization of the larynx, and also on the form and size of the vocal tube. The form and size of this tube can be altered in various ways—for instance, by dilating or contracting the pharynx; by dilating or contracting the mouth; by contracting the communication between the pharynx and mouth, so as to constitute them distinct chambers, or by dilating the opening so as to throw them into one, which is chiefly attained by movements of the soft palate; and by altering the form of the mouth’s cavity, which is effected by varying the position of the tongue. Each of these modifications of the vocal tube conveys a peculiarity of quality to the voice,—all, however, being local or laryngeal sounds. Moreover, sounds can be produced in the vocal tube, apart from the larynx. These, strictly speaking, are not vocal sounds, though some of them may be of a definite and uniform pitch, while others are mere noises—as rustling, whispering, gurgling, whistling, snoring, and the like. Now, as everything audible comes under the classes of noise, sound, or musical sound, and as each variety originates in the vocal apparatus of man, it is obvious that an ordinary vocal apparatus is all that is required for the achievement of the feats of ventriloquism.

A person having an ear acutely perceptive to the nice distinctions of sounds, may, by a little practice, imitate many sounds with accuracy. Those persons, however, who are highly endowed with the mental requisites, which consist of an intense desire to mimic, coupled with the ability to originate mimetic ideas, are able to imitate sounds at first hearing.

We next proceed to treat of those illusions, where the voice so perfectly counterfeits the reality intended, that it appears not to issue from the mimic, but from an appropriate source, in whatever direction, and at whatever distance the source may be. We do not hear the distance which a sound has travelled from its source, but we judge the distance from our former experience, by comparing the loudness which we hear with the known distance and known loudness of similar sounds heard on former occasions. Common experience will prove that we oftener err in estimating the distance of uncommon than of familiar sounds. In apology for such an error, the ordinary language is, “It seemed too loud to come so far,” or “It seemed too near to be so faint a sound,” as the case may be,—both of which are apologies for an erroneous judgment, and not for faulty hearing. Near sounds are louder than distant ones. Now, by preserving the same pitch, quality, and duration, but with an accurately graduated reduction of loudness, a series forming a perspective of sounds may be created, which, falling in succession on the ear, will suggest to the mind a constantly increasing distance of the sound’s source. The estimate, then, which is formed of the distance which a sound has travelled before reaching the ear is a judgment of the mind formed by comparing a present perception (by hearing) with the remembrance of a former loudness in connection with its known distance. With regard to direction, it is observed, “The direction whence a sound comes seems to be judged of by the right of left ear receiving the stronger impression, which, however, can only take place when the sound’s source is in a plane, or nearly so, with a line passing through both cars. It is familiarly known that a person in a house cannot by the noise of an approaching carriage judge with certainty whether it is coming from the right or left. He accurately judges it to be approaching, passing, or receding, as the case may be, by the gradations of loudness, but is unable to decide with certainty whether its approach or recession is from up or down the street. Enough has been stated to show that we do not hear, but that we judge the direction a sound has travelled from its source on reaching the ear.” The ventriloquist indicates, either directly or indirectly, the direction from which he wishes his audience to believe the sound is coming. Thus he directly indicates it by words, such as—“Are you up there?” “He is up the chimney,” “He is in the cellar,” “Are you down there?” &c., as illustrated in the various examples. He indirectly indicates it by some suggestive circumstance, as an action or gesture, which is so skilfully unobtrusive and natural as to effect its object without being discovered. Thus, when the ventriloquist looks or listens in any direction, or even simply turns towards any point, as if he expected sound to come thence, the attention of an audience is by that means instantly directed also to the same place. Thus, before a sound is produced, the audience expect it to come in the suggested direction; and the ventriloquist has merely, by his adjustment of vocal loudness, to indicate the necessary distance, when a misjudgment of the audience will complete the illusion which he has begun.

The effect which is produced on sound by its travelling from a distance, is observed to be:—

(1) That its loudness is reduced in proportion to its distance.

(2) That its pitch remains unaltered.

(3) That its quality or tone is somewhat altered.

(4) That its duration remains unaltered.

(5) That the human speech is somewhat obscured, chiefly in the consonant sounds.

It must be remembered that the ventriloquist makes the sound, not as it is heard at its source, but as it is heard after travelling from a distance.

THE MEANS BY WHICH IT IS EFFECTED.

Before entering upon the first and easy lessons, it will be as well to consider the means by which the effect is produced. The Student is supposed to have made himself thoroughly acquainted with the previous chapter, as to the effect to be produced, not on himself, but on the spectators and audience. And we may assure him, that if he has a fair range of voice, a diligent observance of the rules which we are about to lay down, coupled with attention to the nature of sound as it falls upon the ear, will lead him to such triumphs as, in all probability, he never imagined he could have attained—an assurance which we are emboldened to offer from our own pursuit and practical realization of the art.

The student must bear in mind that the means are simply natural ones, used in accordance with natural laws. We have given him the acoustical theory of the effect on the auric nerve, and the means are the organs of respiration and sound, with the adjoining muscles. They are the diaphragm, the lungs, the trachea, the larynx, the pharynx, and the mouth. The diaphragm is a very large convex muscle, situated below the lungs, and having full power over respiration. The lungs are the organs of respiration, and are seated at each side of the chest; they consist of air-tubes minutely ramified in a loose tissue, and terminating in very small sacs, termed air-cells. The trachea is a tube, the continuation of the larynx, commonly called the windpipe: through this the air passes to and from the lungs. It is formed of cartilaginous rings, by means of which it may be elongated or shortened. The larynx is that portion of the air-tube immediately above the trachea: its position is indicated by a large projection in the throat. In the interior of this part of the throat are situated the vocal chords. They are four bands of elastic substance somewhat similar to India-rubber. The cavity, or opening between these vocal chords is called the glottis: it possesses the power of expanding or contracting under the influence of the muscles of the larynx. The pharynx is a cavity above the larynx, communicating with the nasal passages: it is partially visible when the mouth is opened and the tongue lowered. Near this part of the root of the tongue is situated the epiglottis, which acts as a lid or cover in closing over the air-tube during the act of swallowing. The mouth forms a cavity to reflect and strengthen the resonance of the vibrations produced in the air-tube; it also possesses numberless minute powers of contraction and modification.

We now proceed to give the instructions to which we have referred—instructions guaranteed by a proficiency which we are ever ready to submit to the ordeal of a critical examination, either in private or in public.

If the student will pay strict attention to the parts printed in italics, and will practice the voices here specified, he will find that they are the key to all imitative sounds and voices; and, according to the range of his voice and the capabilities of his mimetic power, he will be enabled to imitate the voices of little children, of old people, and, in fact, almost every sound which he hears.

Too much attention cannot be bestowed on the study of sound as it falls on the ear, and an endeavor to imitate it as it is heard—for the “secret” of the art is, that as perspective is to the eye so is ventriloquism to the ear. When we look at a painting of a landscape, some of the objects appear at a distance; but we know that it is only the skill of the artist which has made it appear as the eye has seen it in reality. In exactly the same manner a ventriloquist acts upon and deceives the ear, by producing sounds as they are heard from any known distances.

PRACTICAL ILLUSTRATIONS.

No. I.

THE VOICE IN THE CLOSET

This is the voice in which Mr. Frederic Maccabe, the celebrated mimic and ventriloquist, excels, and the clever manner in which he can adapt it off-hand, as it were, will be best illustrated by the fact mentioned to us by the gentleman in question, whom we call Mr. B. in Mr. Maccabe’s presence. Mr. B., who was an invalid, suffering from some nervous disorder, originating by overwork and anxiety, was travelling in Ireland in search of health, and when on his way from Dublin to Cork, he lay exhausted in a corner of a railway-carriage, muffled up in cloaks and wrappers in a paroxysm of pain. At Mallow, two gentlemen entered the carriage, one of whom was in exuberant spirits, and commenced telling some amusing anecdotes. At length the porter came to collect the tickets. They were all handed in but one, when the following colloquy ensued:—

Porter.—A gentleman hasn’t given me his ticket.

Gentleman.—Bill, in the next compartment, has the ticket, (tapping at the partition). Haven’t you, Bill?

The imaginary Bill, who appeared to be suffering from a severe cold, replied that he had, and the porter would not take it. The official went off to find the ticket, but Bill, in the mean time had vanished. Back came the porter and indignantly demanded the ticket. He was interrupted by a shrill voice in the opposite compartment, crying,—“Porter! porter! why don’t you come and take the ticket! There’s some one insulting me!” Away went the chivalric porter, to come back puzzled and chafed to receive the ticket, which was handed to him. His hand had not reached the coveted piece of pasteboard, ere the yell of a terrier under the wheels caused the porter to draw back, amid bursts of laughter, during which the ticket was thrown out, and the train moved on. And Mr. Frederic Maccabe stood confessed, but not penitent.

Voice No 1.—To acquire this voice, which we so name for distinction’s sake, speak any word or sentence in your own natural tones; then open the mouth and fix the jaws fast, as though you were trying to hinder any one from opening them farther or shutting them; draw the tongue back in a ball; speak the same words, and the sound, instead of being formed in the mouth will be formed in the pharynx. Great attention must be paid to holding the jaws rigid. The sound will then be found to imitate a voice heard from the other side of a door when it is closed, or under a floor, or through a wall. To ventriloquize with this voice, let the operator stand with his back to the audience against a door. Give a gentle tap at the door, and call aloud in a natural voice, inquiring “Who is there?” This will have the effect of drawing the attention of the audience to a person supposed to be outside. Then fix the jaw as described, and utter in voice No. 1, any words you please, such as “I want to come in.” Ask questions in the natural voice and answer in the other. When you have done this, open the door a little, and hold a conversation with the imaginary person. As the door is now open, it is obvious that the voice must be altered, for a voice will not sound to the ear when a door is open the same as when closed. Therefore the voice must be made to appear face to face, or close to the ventriloquist. To do this the voice must not be altered from the original note or pitch, but be made in another part of the mouth. This is done by closing the lips tight and drawing one corner of the mouth downwards, or towards the ear. Then let the lips open at that corner only, the other part to remain closed. Next breathe, as it were, the words out of the orifice formed. Do not speak distinctly, but expel the breath in short puffs at each word, and as loud as possible. By so doing you will cause the illusion in the mind of the listeners, that they hear the same voice which they heard when the door was closed, but which is now heard more distinctly and nearer on account of the door being open. This voice must always be used when the ventriloquist wishes it to appear that the sound comes from some one close at hand, but through an obstacle. The description of voice and dialogue may be varied as in the following examples—

Ex. 1. The Suffocated Victim.—This was a favorite illustration of Mr. Love, the polyphonist. A large box or close cupboard is used indiscriminately, as it may be handy. The student will rap or kick the box apparently by accident. The voice will then utter a hoarse and subdued groan, apparently from the box or closet.

Student (pointing to the box with an air of astonishment): What is that?

Voice: I won’t do so any more. I am nearly dead.

Student: Who are you? How came you there?

Voice: I only wanted to see what was going on. Let me out, do.

Student: But I don’t know who you are.

Voice: Oh yes, you do.

Student: Who are you?

Voice: Your old schoolfellow, Tom, ——. You know me.

Student: Why, he’s in Canada.

Voice (sharply): No he ain’t, he’s here; but be quick.

Student (opening the lid): Perhaps he’s come by the underground railroad? Hallo!

Voice (not so muffled as described in direction): Now then, give us a hand.

Student (closing the lid or door sharply): No, I won’t.

Voice (as before): Have pity (Tom, or Jack, or Mr. ——, as the case may be), or I shall be choked.

Student: I don’t believe you are what you say.

Voice: Why don’t you let me out and see before I am dead?

STUDENT (opening and shutting the lid or door and varying the voice accordingly): Dead! not you. When did you leave Canada?

Voice: Last week. Oh? I am choking.

Student: Shall I let him out? (opening the door). There’s no one here.

2. The Milkman at the Door.—This affords a capital opportunity of introducing a beggar, watercress or milkman, and may be varied accordingly. We will take Skyblue, the milkman; and we would impress on the student, that, although we give these simple dialogues, they are merely intended as illustrations for the modest tyro, not to be implicitly followed when greater confidence and proficiency are attained.

Voice: Milk below!

Student: Is it not provoking that a milkman always comes when he is not wanted, and is absent when we are waiting for the cream?

Voice: (whistling a bar of “Shoo Fly”).

Student: Oh, yes, always the broken-hearted milkman as if he was not as happy as a king.

Voice (nearer): Milk below! Why, Sally, where’s the can?

Student: Sally will be long in answering, I think.

Voice: Sally’s gadding with the police. Milk below!

Student (slightly opening the door): We don’t want any milk, my good man.

Voice: No skim milk for the cat, or cream for tea?

Another Voice: Watercresses!

Student: Really, this is too bad. Go away.

Voice: You owe me ten cents for last week’s milk; I was to wait.

Student: This is intolerable. I’ll send for the police.

Voice [ironically]: Send for Sally and p’lice, I’ll foller.

Student: Impudent rascal.

Voice: Keep your compliments at home, Master Idlebones.

Student [opining the door]: I’ll report you to your master.

Voice [louder, as the door is opened]: Will you, young Whippersnapper, pay us the dime, and let us go?

Student offers to pay, while the voice gets weaker in the distance with “Milk below!” until it becomes inaudible.

A conversation may be held in a similar strain with cellarman: and, as a rule, the lower notes of the voice will be best for voices in the basement, and formed as low in the chest as possible.

Student: Thomas, are you coming?

Voice below [gruffly]: I should think I was.

Student: We are waiting for the beer.

Voice [partly aside]: The longer you wait, the greater our honor. Mary, have another drop.

Student: Why, the scamp is drinking the beer! Thomas! Who’s there with you?

Voice: Myself. [Aside] Make haste with the pot, Mary; he’s in such a hurry.

Student: You drinking rascal, how dare you!

Voice: Coming, sir. The barrel’s nearly empty.

Student: I should think so, tippling as you are at it.

Voice: Now don’t be saucy.

Student: The fellow is getting intoxicated. Thomas!

Voice: Wait till I come. I have waited for you many times.

Student: I suppose it is of no use hurrying you?

Voice: No, it isn’t, my young tippler. I’m COMING! coming!! coming!!!

From this illustration the student may proceed to try the second voice.

No. II.

Voice No. 2.—This is the more easy to be acquired. It is the voice by which all ventriloquists make a supposed person speak from a long distance, or from, or through the ceiling. In the first place, with your back to the audience, direct their attention to the ceiling by pointing to it or by looking intently at it. Call loudly, and ask some question, as though you believed some person to be concealed there. Make your own voice very distinct, and as near the lips as possible, inasmuch as that will help the illusion. Then in exactly the same tone and pitch answer; but, in order that the same voice may seem to proceed from the point indicated, the words must be formed at the back part of the roof of the mouth. To do this the lower jaw must be drawn back and held there, the mouth open, which will cause the palate to be elevated and drawn nearer to the pharynx, and the sound will be reflected in that cavity, and appear to come from the roof. Too much attention cannot be paid to the manner in which the breath is used in this voice. When speaking to the supposed person, expel the words with a deep, quick breath.

When answering in the imitative manner, the breath must be held back and expelled very slowly and the voice will come in a subdued and muffled manner, little above a whisper, but so as to be well distinguished. To cause the supposed voice to come nearer by degrees, call loudly, and say, “I want you down here,” or words to that effect. At the same time make a motion downwards with your hand. Hold some conversation with the voice and cause it to say, “I am coming,” or, “Here I am,” each time indicating the descent with the hand (see examples). When the voice is supposed to approach nearer, the sound must alter, to denote the progress of the movement. Therefore let the voice at every supposed step, roll, as it were, by degrees, from the pharynx more into the cavity of the mouth, and at each supposed step, contracting the opening of the mouth, until the lips are drawn up as if you were whistling. By so doing the cavity of the mouth will be very much enlarged. This will cause the voice to be obscured, and so appear to come nearer by degrees. At the same time, care must be taken not to articulate the consonant sounds plainly, as that would cause the disarrangement of the lips and cavity of the mouth; and in all imitation voices the consonants must scarcely be articulated at all, especially if the ventriloquist faces the audience. For example; suppose the imitative voice is made to say, “Mind what you are doing, you bad boy,” it must be spoken as if it were written “’ind ’ot you’re doing, you ’ad whoy.”[2] This kind of articulation may be practised, by forming the words in the pharynx, and then sending them out of the mouth by sudden expulsions of the breath clean from the lungs at every word. This is most useful in ventriloquism, and to illustrate it we will take the man on the roof as an illustration. This is an example almost invariably successful, and is constantly used by skilled professors of the art. As we have before repeatedly intimated, the eyes and attention of the audience must be directed to the supposed spot from whence the illusive voice is supposed to proceed.

[2] It is very rarely that a ventriloquist shows a full face to his audience: it is only done when he is at a great distance from them, and is pronouncing the labial sounds, in the manner given, for any movement of the jaws would help to destroy the illusion.