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Gentlemen,

Your very obedient,

and devoted humble Servant,

JOEL COLLIER.

ssss1 Vide the last Vol. of the Philosophical Transactions.

[2]—“He was the first who seemed to think my journey was, in some measure, a matter of national concern.”

Tour to Germany, &c.


MUSICAL TRAVELS, &c.

ssss1

I was born in the Parish of Gotham, in the county of Nottingham: my father was a sawyer, and my mother had, for many years before her marriage, cried oysters and Newcastle-salmon about the streets of London. Neither of them are said to have been remarkable for their vocal or instrumental talents. My mother’s voice was, indeed, exceedingly shrill and dissonant, as I have been credibly informed by the neighbours; however, I was no sooner born than I gave proofs of uncommon musical propensities. I entered the world, singing, instead of crying; at least, my squall was truly melodious, and ravished the ears of the midwife; tho’, I must confess, the envious old hag of a nurse did pretend that my mother and Mrs. Midnight mistook the origin of the wild notes I uttered as soon as I saw the light; and, insisting that they only denoted the wind-cholic, immediately drenched me with a large dose of rhubarb: however, she has candidly confessed, that she easily sang me to sleep whenever I was peevish, and that even by means of such simple melody as Jack Sprat, or hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle. A harsh and menacing recitative would as effectually deter me from a naughty trick, as a good whipping. The sound of a drum, or any other martial music, had such an immediate effect upon my nerves, that I was always obliged to be turned dry before the piece was half over. The famous March in Saul is too powerful for me even at this day, tho’ I can stand any other, without being offensive. Indeed, I am so well convinced of the connection between the sound and the sense in all good music, that I will venture to prescribe Handel’s water-piece, and water parted from the sea, as specifics for a strangury. I know that there is great truth in what Shakespear says of the bag-pipe; and I have observed that a jockey always whistles to his horse upon these occasions, which never fails to produce great effects, tho’ the performer want brilliancy of execution ever so much.

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