The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Harmonicon, 1833, Part the First, by Various.

IT has not unfrequently happened that the works of very superior composers have remained a long time unknown, except in the country where they were produced. We hardly need say that Mozart’s operas never reached London or Paris till twenty and more years after his death. His chef-d’œuvre, Don Giovanni, was performed for the first time in England in 1817, no less than thirty years after it was first produced! Handel is now only beginning to be known on the continent! We do not mean to place the subject of this brief memoir on anything like a footing with either of those great masters, but he wrote many operas that deserve notice, some of which will, we are persuaded, ere long be thought worthy of being heard at the King’s Theatre, if being far superior in all respects to five out of every six lately brought out there, entitles them to be made known to a British audience.

VINCENZO RIGHINI was born at Bologna about the year 1758, where also he laid the foundation of his musical acquirements, under the direction of the very celebrated, and at that time still vigorous, Padre Martini. After having completed his vocal studies, he left Bologna about the year 1776 for Prague, where he contracted an engagement as a singer for the Italian Opera-buffa, under the management of M. Bustelli, which enabled him not only to cultivate his talents for vocal composition, but also to bring on the stage several operas and scenas, which were performed with success. And this is one of the many instances on record of Italian Maestri di Capella, previously mere virtuosi, becoming profound and distinguished musicians and composers, through their connexion with German musical chapels and orchestras.

After he had passed three years in Prague in so profitable and creditable a manner, he repaired to Vienna, where he had the good fortune to be chosen, by the Emperor Joseph II., singing-master to the beautiful Princess Elizabeth, of Würtemberg, and was appointed, at the same time, kapellmeister and composer to the Italian opera.

About the year 1788 he went to Mentz, whither he had been invited by the archbishop and elector, whose service he entered as kapellmeister. Here again he wrote much for the theatre, and a grand mass for the church. During his stay in that city the fame of his delicate and pleasing music procured for him the honourable commission from the elector of Treves, one of the most distinguished musical connoisseurs among the German princes of his time, to set to music the drama Alcide al Bivio, which was subsequently performed at Coblentz with the success it merited, under his own direction, in the presence of the court.

Lastly, he was called to Berlin by Frederich Wilhelm II., to write the opera seria, Enea nel Lazio, for the great opera-house there, which being favourably received by the king, he was appointed, in April, 1793, Master of the Royal Chapel, in the room of Alessandri, with a salary of 4000 thalers. Here, enjoying the favour of the sovereign, and the esteem of the public, and proud of his excellent orchestra, he married, in the year 1794, the young and handsome Madlle. Kneisel, with whom he had become acquainted as the favourite singer of the Frankfort Theatre, at Mentz. As, at the decease of the king (which took place in 1798) Righini was in the most honourable manner confirmed in his dignities by the new monarch, and remained, after his return from Hamburg—whither he, during that year, accompanied Mad. Righini for a short time—permanently fixed at Berlin until the year 1804, when, with the sanction of his court, he visited Italy in company with the youthful Madlle. Fischer, his pupil. He died at Bologna on the 19th of August, 1812, where he had arrived in the spring, in the hope of being relieved from a disease that had before afflicted him, and of which he had been once cured by an operation performed by an eminent professor in that place. The second attempt, however, of the same surgeon, proved fatal.

In his manner of composing Righini was entirely devoid of pretension, and remarkably pleasing; and with regard to his vocal abilities, every ear was charmed when he sang, with his soft and subdued voice, scenas from his own scores, accompanied by himself on the piano-forte.

His compositions are, 1. La Vedora Scaltra; Op. Buffa, (his first opera,) at Prague. 2. La Bottega del Caffé; Op. Buffa, ditto. 3. Don Giovanni, o sia il Convitato di Pietra; Op. Buffa, ditto. 4. Several scenes, duets, &c. for introduction in serious operas performed there. 5. La Sorpresa amorosa, Cantata à tre voci, with full orchestra, written at Vienna for three of his pupils. 6. Il natale d’Apollo, a grand Cantata, with full orchestra, ditto.[Pg 2] 7. Grand Serenade, with full orchestra, ditto. 8. L’Incontro inaspettato; Op. Buffa, 1785. 9. Le Demogorgone, o sia il Filosofo confuso; Op. Buffa, ditto. 10. Several scenas and rondeaus, introduced in various operas produced at the Vienna theatre. 11. The scena Berenice, Che fai? from Metastasio’s opera, Antigono. 12. The scena Se cerca, se dice, from Metastasio’s Olimpiade. 13. Armida; Op. Seria; first performed at Aschaffenburg. 14. Alcide al Bivio; Op. Seria; produced at Coblentz, 1789. 15. A grand solemn mass, performed at the election of the Emperor Joseph II. 16. Enea nel Lazio; Op. Seria; composed for the theatre at Berlin. In this Righini himself sang, and made his first appearance on the stage of the great Opera-house in January, 1793. 17. Il Trionfo d’Arianne; Op. Seria, 1793. 18. Atalanta e Meleagro, Festa teatrale che introduce ad un ballo allegorico, performed at the Opera-house at Berlin, on 15th February, 1797, on the occasion of the marriage of the princess. 19. Armida; Op. Seria; the text remodelled by Filistri; the music almost entirely re-composed, 1799; published at Leipzig in 1805. 20. Tigrane; Op. Seria; Berlin, for the Carnival, 1799, 1800; score published 1810. 21. Gierusalemme Liberata; Op. Seria. 1802. 22. Various detached compositions for the church. 23. Der Zauberwald (La Selva incantata), an opera published at Leipzig.

Besides the above works, Righini’s minor productions, vocal and instrumental, but chiefly the former, are very numerous. He was a ready man, of most industrious habits, and his taste and judgment, the result of great experience, could be relied on. Hence he was resorted to when occasion demanded the prompt exertion of a composer’s talent. But it follows as almost a necessary consequence, that most of what was thus suddenly called for and brought forth, was calculated for an immediate purpose—not written with any hope that it would add much to his reputation. His fame he well knew would rest on his operas [2].

FALLACIES OF SOME WRITERS ON MUSIC.

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

As you have considered my first paper admissible, I beg leave to continue my remarks on what I conceive to be the fallacies of some writers on music, and proceed with those of Dr. Browne, whose fifth charge against Handel is contained in the following words:—

‘Choirs (or choruses) sometimes (though seldom) calculated more for the display of the composer’s art, in the construction of figures and canons, than for a natural expression of the subject.’ The writer, then, is evidently no admirer of the fugue style; and such choruses as the “Amen” (Messiah), “He led them through the deep” (Israel in Egypt), and many others, were, to his ears, nothing more than musical exercises!

On the subject of fugue, which obliges the various voices to sing different words at the same time, thereby producing confusion in the sense, argument for and against has been nearly exhausted by some of the first literary and musical writers of the present and past age. In the Harmonicon, a few months back, some excellent remarks, I think, appeared on both sides. Vocal composers, from the time of Palestrina, have all augmented their fame by their fugues, the variety which such style of writing imparts to the subject often rendering a simple, nay, even a meagre one, interesting. But it must be allowed that it is highly necessary that he who would enjoy such composition should be somewhat of an educated musician, or he will never enter into the true meaning and spirit of it.

This, perhaps it may be said, only proves a prejudice, engendered by education and habit. But if so, every subject on which men have dissented is liable to the same objection. Different advances in civilized life and education are attended by more or less of such prejudices; and in search of truth a man must be endowed with almost superhuman powers who can divest himself wholly of the influence of early impressions. As a striking proof of this, it is enough to state that, up to the present hour, our two universities cannot agree concerning the pronunciation of the Latin A; it is, therefore, clear that one of these great emporiums of learning must be labouring under a prejudice.

But, to return to the subject immediately before us:—if the objection which obtains so much among literary men (who are not musicians by education) against fugue writing, viz. “the confusion of words” produced by it, is valid, then to the same objection many other high classes of composition become equally obnoxious. Madrigals teem with this alleged error, and superadded to it are the most barbarous faults in accent. All, or nearly all, glees have similar failings to atone for. If we look at the works of the great continental writers, in their masses and motetts, the same confusion of words is conspicuous; and what is more to my purpose here, even the duetts of Steffani, Handel, Clari, and Travers,—and, in our time, of Jackson, Bishop, Neukomm, &c. &c. are equally guilty in this respect. If the authority of names is of any weight, we have on our side the opinion of the greatest poet England ever produced, Milton, who, in his Paradise Lost, book 11, speaks not in a very contemptuous manner of the fugue.

But the truth is—and here I must confess the fact—that composers must be allowed to mix the words, under certain limitations, in chamber and oratorio music; it is a licence absolutely necessary to musical effect, and equally allowable in the dramatic composer when he has five or six characters on the stage, all influenced by different feelings, to make them utter not only various words, but[Pg 3] each, at the same moment, his own sentiment of rage, joy, despair, triumph, love, and revenge. I am no advocate for the mixture of words when it can be avoided, which might often be done, did composers bestow proper attention on the subject.

I now pass on to the sixth charge against Handel. ‘The choir, in many instances (and the single song in some) not sudden enough in its intervention, being generally prepared by a correspondent symphony of instrumental music, which creates expectation and presentiment, destroys surprise, and thus lessens the impression and effect.’

Dr. B. allows that Handel’s defects proceeded ‘not so much from himself, as from the period in which he lived.’ This sixth charge is a remarkable proof of it; for, by observing the compositions of Handel’s contemporaries, we constantly find the symphony; let the sentiment be ever so sudden or violent, still the everlasting symphony is present, to ‘destroy surprise and lessen effect.’

Haydn’s genius, at a more advanced stage in the practice of music, enabled him to break through the trammels of these chaperoning symphonies, and, had he been only a vocal writer, would, no doubt, have done more. Beethoven, too, whose mighty powers of mind were not so fully appreciated in his own time as now, sets another example—in his trio ‘Tremati,’ for instance—of the non-intervention of symphonies. And in the dramatic music of many other modern writers, a custom so injurious to both stage and musical effect, is generally laid aside. Even instrumental writers are beginning to feel the tediousness of introductory symphonies. In the beautiful concerto of Mendelssohn, which he played last season at the Philharmonic, how did he delight his audience by the bold spirit with which he rushed at once into the principal solo subject, instead of following the old daudling practice of tiring expectation by four or five pages of tedious, and often irrelevant, symphony![3] I therefore agree with Dr. Brown on this point, so far as his principle goes. At page 189 is a striking fallacy and extraordinary contradiction of himself by this critical writer. Speaking of Sternhold’s version of the Psalms, he says, ‘There are few stanzas which do not present expressions to excite the ridicule of some part of every congregation. This version might well be abolished, as it exposeth one of the noblest parts of divine service to contempt; especially as there is another version already privileged, which, though not excellent, is, however, not intolerable. The parochial music seems to need no reform.’ The opinion, that what is only not intolerable needs no reform, will find but few abettors in the present times. I have thought, ever since my attention was turned to the subject, that nothing in the whole range of musical performance requires so much reform and improvement as our parochial Psalmody. There are in London, certainly, instances of its being in a very respectable state, but in the majority of churches and chapels, no one with a tolerable ear and the slightest devotional feeling can say, that the squalling of dozens of children, untaught (at least not properly taught), all straining their voices to the utmost, produces anything but unmodified disgust.

While I am on this subject, I must notice a proceeding which some parishes have adopted—namely, that of greatly reducing the salaries of their organists,—in some cases within my own knowledge—from 70l. to 40l. per annum! Now this is Church reform with a vengeance! but the vengeance falls on the already ill-rewarded organist. And here is a striking proof of the injudicious manner in which we Englishmen set about retrenchment. This is to degrade those who hold important situations in the church to about the rank of beadles or vergers, and, in the end, will only more effectually injure the establishment: for so soon as a man of talent feels himself in danger of losing his just remuneration, it is not likely that he will perform his duties with much zeal.

In Lord Henley’s much-read pamphlet on Church Reform (p. 35, 4th edition) is a passage recommending the entire abolition of what his lordship is pleased to call ‘such relics of popery as chanting anthems, solos, duets, voluntaries, &c.’ in our cathedral service, and advising the introduction of a simple mode of Psalmody. Is it not amazing that a man who is so learned in ecclesiastical law should forget that the Deans and Chapters of all the cathedrals throughout the United Kingdom hold their appointments on the express condition of performing divine service in the manner now practiced? Does he mean by a side-wind, by a little law-cunning, to get rid of all deans and chapters?

I could accumulate the fallacious opinions of many writers till I had half filled your Journal, Sir; but for the present will only add one more, and an extraordinary one it is. In a copy of Sir John Hawkins’ History of Music, in the British Museum, containing MS. notes in his own hand-writing (vol. v. p. 16), is the following remark:—‘Singing follows so naturally the smallest degree of proficiency on any instrument, that the learning of both is unnecessary!’

[Pg 4]

MR. G. LINLEY’S ANSWER TO MR. GÖDBÉ.

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

Mr. GÖDBÉ, with all the adroitness of a posture-master, pirouettes from point to point, and assumes names and positions, as though he were accountable neither for words nor actions. I will, as briefly as possible, reply to those parts of his letter which seem worth my notice.

Touching the ‘Isle of Beauty,’ and his friends Messrs. Prowse and Purday, Mr. Gödbé does not condescend to name the ‘identical Song,’ or the ‘Country Music Seller,’ whose coffers were thus likely to overflow from so scrupulous a regard to the laws of copyright. I leave him, therefore, to the full enjoyment of his two City friends, whose testimony and opinion might have some weight, did the question hinge on a tureen of turtle, or pitcher of punch. I beseech him to cultivate the acquaintance of all such good fellows; he might do worse than press their vocal powers in behalf of his Quartett, where, with a ‘merry Christmas, and a happy new year,’ they might stand a chance of obtaining some praise, and a few pence. He never will, nor shall I, get fat by controversy; and taking your hint to be brief, I dismiss Mr. Gödbé and his ‘tangible elements of disputation,’ with a full conviction that he is ever more likely to succeed in finding fault with the works of others than in improving his own.

As was said of the critic may be said of him,—He has sifted a dunghill to find two cinders that tally, and bestowed a great deal of pains upon a dirty business.

MEMOIRS OF THE METROPOLITAN CONCERTS.

[Continued from last Volume.]

ALTHOUGH the failure of public support occasioned the abandonment first of the professional concerts, and eventually rendered it matter of prudence even in Salomon to withdraw from the field, yet the impulse which these establishments had given to musical taste, both in the profession and amongst amateurs, continued to be felt long after the immediate cause was no more. The tone of concerts, both public and private, was materially improved, and some of the best pieces of modern instrumental music were performed in orchestras where nothing beyond the overtures and concerts of Handel or Corelli had been heard before. The music, which was found on the desk, and formed the amusement of amateurs, was much superior to any thing which a few years previous had been thought within their reach; they were no longer contented with the faded productions of a past age, but excited to keep pace with the discoveries and improvements of the times in which they lived. The City Amateur Concert, called the Harmonic (mentioned in the last of these articles), arose out of and continued to keep alive this feeling, but it required a more energetic effort and more comprehensive arrangements to give it full effect.

This effort was at length made by the musical profession in London. In the early part of the year 1813, Messrs. Corri, J. B. Cramer, and Dance, met at the house of the last-named gentleman, and may be said to have laid at that meeting the foundation-stone of the PHILHARMONIC SOCIETY. To a subsequent meeting they invited twelve other professional gentlemen, and it was then determined forthwith to institute a concert for the perform[Pg 5]ance, if not exclusively, chiefly, of instrumental music, in support of which the parties assembled, not only agreed to give the gratuitous aid of their united talents, but entered into a subscription to meet incidental expenses. They assumed the appellation of THE PHILHARMONIC SOCIETY, and associated to themselves fifteen more of their professional brethren, thus augmenting their number to thirty, who were to be denominated MEMBERS of the society, and in whom alone the management of its funds, and the direction of its proceedings and concerns, were to be vested. The thirty original members of the society were—

Members of the musical profession were invited to join the society under the title of ASSOCIATES, but without having a vote, or any other participation, in the affairs or constitution of the establishment, or any privilege or advantage, except that their subscription was fixed at a lower sum than that of the public in general, and that, when any vacancies might occur in the list of MEMBERS, they were to be filled up from the ASSOCIATES by ballot. Of this class sixty-one inscribed their names in the first season. The subscription-list was filled up from the public at large; but in order to be admitted as a subscriber, it was necessary to be nominated by some member of the society, and as vacancies in the subscription-list took place, they were filled up in the same way; the number of vacancies being divided among the members, and each having an equal number of nominations to divide amongst such of his friends as were desirous of attending the performances of the society. Notwithstanding this restriction, so anxious were the amateurs to avail themselves of this opportunity of enjoying instrumental music of the first class, that the whole number the room could accommodate was nearly filled up before the first concert, and previous to the second performance many applications for subscriptions had been of necessity rejected.

The object and principle of the Philharmonic Society is thus set forth in its second fundamental law. The chief object ‘of the society is the performance, in the best style possible, of the most approved instrumental music, consisting of full pieces; concertantes for not less than three principal instruments; sestettos, quintettos, quartetts, and trios. No concerto solo or duet shall ever be performed at any of the society’s concerts; and if the directors shall think it expedient at any time to introduce vocal music with full orchestral accompaniments, it must be under the above limitations.’ Thus it appears that the performance of vocal music only entered conditionally into the original plan of the founders of the Philharmonic; nevertheless, they found it eventually advantageous, if not necessary, to admit some singing; but for several seasons it was strictly confined to the limits laid down by the above quoted law, and the performance of the singers was for the first two or three seasons gratuitous.

The direction of the concert for the first season was confided to Messrs. AYRTON, BISHOP, CLEMENTI, CORRI, J. B. CRAMER, F. CRAMER, and DANCE, and its performances commenced on Monday the 13th March, 1813; a day that will be held memorable in the history of the art. So much talent of the very highest order had never before been assembled in the same orchestra; virtuosi who could appear elsewhere only as leaders, here took in their turns the subordinate stations of ripieni violins or tenors; and such masters of their art as F. CRAMER, SALOMON, SHIELD, SPAGNOLETTI, VACCARI, VIOTTI, YANIEWICZ, &c., were to be seen vying with each other which should contribute most to the general effect of the performances. The result was such as might have been expected from the combination of such elements: yet when the orchestra was heard, its power, unity and force seemed to surprise even its projectors themselves; and if in the course of twenty years the Philharmonic Society has not appeared to improve, it is perhaps because its very first efforts were in themselves as near perfection as possible.

Every thing connected with this society is so interesting, and so united with the history of the art in England, that we feel certain it will be gratifying to our readers to peruse the bills of its performances. Those who were present at them will thank us for reviving the recollection of past pleasures, and those who were not must be interested in seeing from what sources the directors drew, and what description of music they naturalized, if they did not first introduce, in this country.

We shall continue the history of this society to the period when our own reports of it commenced, in 1823.

A THEORETICAL WORK BY BEETHOVEN.

THE Leipzig Musical Gazette of a few weeks back, contains the annexed account of a publication which cannot but excite a strong interest in the whole musical world, and most likely will prove highly instructive. We are in daily expectation of a copy, and shall certainly lay portions of its contents before our readers. The title, as given in the German journal, is—Ludwig van Beethoven’s Studies in Thorough Bass, Counterpoint, and the Theory of Composition, collected from his Autograph MSS. and edited by the Chevalier Ignaz von Seyfried. Vienna. T. Haslinger. Price 2 th. 16 gr.

The anxiety, says the writer of the article, which prevailed among the numerous admirers of the great composer for the publication of this important work, is sufficiently apparent from the list of subscribers to it, the great number of whom enabled the publisher to adhere to the price originally fixed, although the book contained about ten sheets more than the first estimate allowed for it. The[Pg 7] studies alone occupy 352 pages. We are then presented with a fac-simile of Beethoven’s writing, representing, in almost enigmatical characters, the first draft of the composition of his fine cantata Adelaide. After this are given prints of two medals in honour of him, the one struck at Vienna, the other at Paris. The appendix contains biographical notices, anecdotes, a transcript of the will, letters, an account of the obsequies, with the music, orations, poems, a drawing of his tombstone, and a systematic catalogue of all the original compositions of the great master. A very striking likeness of Beethoven precedes the whole. This slight sketch of the contents will at least have the effect of attracting to the work the attention of all those friends of the art who may, up to the present time, have remained in ignorance of its appearance. Who would not be anxious to observe for himself the manner in which our Beethoven formed his mind and cultivated his genius? It is not for us to say one word in recommendation of a work whose importance speaks for itself in the most forcible manner.

Much less occasion have we to criticise; for, in the present case, the question is not regarding the mode, but the substance, as it is presented to us, and the manner in which every one ought to avail himself of such a publication, and apply the conclusions which he may draw from it. We do not expect that, in our notice of the work, we can offer, except in a very few instances, any new views. However, it is to be supposed that a great number of those who would take an interest in the work are not yet in possession of it. For the benefit of such we here give the concise and appropriate preface of the editor, which adverts to most of what is necessary to be impressed on the mind in relation to the work itself:—

‘These studies of the great genius are to the whole musical world a valuable legacy, far too inestimable for any one to dare to risk the slightest alteration in them. I have, therefore, endeavoured with the utmost care to give every thing exact, and in the very order in which I found it. I have even, on most occasions, preserved the author’s own words and expressions. In those cases alone, however, where our persevering and indefatigable student had given numerous examples in illustration of one and the same rule, I considered myself at liberty to make an omission or abridgment, in order that the work might not be swelled out to an unnecessary bulk. [The information as to how many examples have been omitted, and in what part of the work, would have been acceptable to many.] What is here offered to the public cannot, by any means, serve as a systematic book of instruction, but is rather to be viewed as the course of study pursued by the great artist himself; and it affords incontrovertible proof, to those who have hitherto entertained doubts on the subject, that Beethoven dedicated the two last years of his musical education, with unwearying assiduity, to theoretical study, under the guidance of Albrechtsberger, his beloved mentor, and further, that he was master of the substance of all the rules, although in process of time his sublime genius cast off the slavish fetters; and his master-mind, soaring far beyond the standard of times past or present, disregarded so many which antiquity and invariable usage alone had hitherto entitled to religious observance as settled laws.’

It is certainly a very different thing when one man, who knows well what he is doing, advisedly, or with innate tact, occasionally transgresses a rule,—and when another, who has learned nothing, and is unwilling to learn anything, evinces his pretended originality in no other way than in the contempt of that of which he is actually ignorant. Were ignorance and presumption the only characteristics of genius, we should have no lack of it.

At the conclusion of the thorough-bass rules, page 74, is the following remark in a fac-simile of Beethoven’s hand-writing:—‘Dear friends, I took all these pains merely to be enabled to figure thorough-bass correctly, and hereafter to point out to others any faults they might commit: for myself, I hardly had occasion to learn this at any time; I had from my childhood so nice a feeling, that I observed all the established rules without knowing that what I did should be so or could well be otherwise.’

So important are these studies, and so attractive are the numerous but too few notices from his life, to which fact it is scarcely necessary for us to bear witness, that an adequate idea of its full value cannot be formed but from the work itself entire.

THE NEW GERMAN OPERA OF FORTUNATUS.

THE Musical Gazette of Leipzig contains the following detailed account of a new opera lately produced in that city, which, if its merit be at all commensurate with the encomiums bestowed on it, cannot but be a work of uncommon ability. Granting that the writer had listened to this with very favouring ears—that he may have been biassed by partiality of some kind, yet if he is in any degree to be relied on—and we have no reason to doubt his general fidelity—the opera he thus praises in so almost unqualified a manner must possess many pieces of no ordinary excellence, and is worth being further inquired into by the managers of our theatres. The critique has the German defect of verbosity; we therefore have considerably abridged it. The writer accompanies his remarks with two airs as specimens of the melodies; the first of which will be found in the musical portion of our present number.

Fortunat mit dem Säckel und Wunschhutlein, (Fortunatus with the Purse and Wishing-cap,) an Opera composed by SCHNYDER, of Wartensee; the Drama by GEORG DORING. Performed, for the first time, at Frankfort on the Maine.

M. Schnyder, of Wartensee, well known to the public by many valuable musical works, has here attempted dramatic composition with particular success, and charmed us by an abundance of very excellent music. He is a man rich in musical ideas; his productions are frequently original, always clear and melodious, and, at the same time, of a rare correctness. His airs are pleasing, and often very delicate; his choruses powerful and full of dramatic effect. Above all, the opera bears the stamp of considerable thought, (particularly as regards harmony,) and of cultivated taste and great judgment. It presents plan, unity, good keeping in the different characters, and displays poetic elevation of no ordinary description. His harmony, frequently peculiar to himself, is not to be termed mere accompaniment to the melody; it may be considered as[Pg 8] exhibiting a manner particularly his own of enlarging the means of musical expression, or of employing the rich store of musical colouring.

In his instrumental pieces, the progressions unfold many entirely new ideas; he modulates with caution, but at the same time naturally, and a rude transition is nowhere to be met with. It is true that we sometimes encounter laboured, lengthy passages, and obsolete forms of melody; the latter, however, considered with reference to situation, probably not unintentionally introduced. An analytical review of the opera is subjoined, that it may be more justly estimated.

The overture begins with a characteristic subject, which is afterwards introduced whenever the Wishing-Cap is at work. To this succeeds a soft piece, in the choral style, for the wind instruments, (motivo of the chorus of the Genii attendant upon Fortuna,) in which the first subject is gradually interwoven into the parts assigned to the stringed instruments. After a novel progression of harmony—where the chord of the dominant seventh of E flat

major, breathed, as it were, pianissimo by the clarionets and bassoons alone, succeeds the chord of the dominant of C minor given fortissimo by the whole orchestra—the Allegro commences. A graceful, light theme, in contrast with the significant romantic introduction, gives notice that we are to expect a comic opera, in which the marvellous and fantastic spirit of a fairy-tale is blended with the humorous. A profusion of unlooked-for imitations, an attractive motivo, the interesting and striking management of the inner parts, together with an excellent employment of the brass instruments, distinguish this piece, and the introduction of three trombones towards the end imparts great force and life to the conclusion.

No. 1. Duet (as introduction) between the two lovers, Fortunatus and Alide, daughter of Claudio, king of Cyprus. The melody, tender and affectionate; the accompaniment corresponding. In this, the passage where Fortunatus, accompanying himself on the guitar, sings the words [4], ‘Im Haine klagt’s,’ deserves particular mention—an excellent air, tender in melody, and of most beautiful effect. While Fortunatus is declaring his passion to Alide, they are surprised by the king, his cousin Agrippina, and her brother Pedro. The king threatens Fortunatus with death, and sends him to prison in the custody of Carlino, a courtier. The duet merges into a concerted piece of considerable importance, in which the characteristics of the different persons and their respective feelings are depicted with great dramatic effect. The lovers are doomed to separate, and the introduction appropriately closes with the lovely bars of the opening of the duet, expressing their hopes of seeing each other again.

No. 2. A Duet between the King and Pedro. The latter conceitedly enumerates his good qualities, which the king listens to with satisfaction. The boastings of Pedro are humorously expressed by some original trumpet passages, while the insignificance and frivolity of his majesty are happily marked by triplets.

A great contrast to this is shown in the Aria No. 4, which Fortunatus sings, under the impression that he is to languish his days in prison. This scene, together with the subsequent appearance of Fortuna, we consider the gem of the Opera. A solo for the violoncello is introduced here; the few bars of which, if entrusted to an able player, are calculated to express the bitterest anguish and the deepest despair. The sweet melody which follows is highly favourable for the display of the singers’ talent. Fortunatus expresses the grief of separation, but Hope whispers that he will be liberated by a superior power. The Sombre F minor gives way to the tranquil A flat

major, and the melancholy sounds of the violoncello are succeeded by the cheering tones of the violin, which now steps in with a solo. A gentle sleep, produced by magic, then steals on Fortunatus, and the chord of E major, softly breathed by the wind instruments, hints already the approach of Fortuna, who shortly afterwards appears with her genii, singing tender choruses; bestows on Fortunatus her gifts—the wishing-cap and ever-full purse—then disappears. As Fortunatus awakes, the key of E major suddenly changes again into A, and the transition gives to the whole situation a dream-like character. Fortunatus is now free, and the orchestra bursts out fortissimo, with all its brass instruments and drums, and seems to revel with the happy youth, who can scarcely calculate the extent of his good fortune. He now wishes himself in Famagusta’s rich market-place; the scene changes, and the dealers of all kinds sing a popular air, No. 5, extolling their wares. Carlino appears, banished from the court on the suspicion of being the cause of Fortunatus’s escape, and sings a song, No. 6 [5].

No. 7. Finale is comic throughout. King Claudio appears with the two ladies, Pedro, and attendants. Fortunatus, recognized by Alide alone, attracts the attention of the king by the splendour of his dress. Pedro makes inquiries respecting him of Carlino, who has entered the service of Fortunatus. When the king is told that the stranger is Count Minian of Flanders, and that he is worth ten millions, his joy knows no bounds, and he invites him immediately to the palace. The music of the Finale is lively, dramatic, and well put together; the chorus at the conclusion, however, borders on the trivial. The scene in which Fortunatus is presented to the king by Pedro (tempo di minuetto) is highly diverting, the melody is in the antique stiff style, and at the end, four bars universal rest can scarcely fail to draw from the audience a burst of laughter.

Second Act.—Fortunatus has been victorious in the tournament. The king greets the rich Count of Flanders, in the presence of the whole court, as his intended son-in-law. Pedro, too, for his valour in the tournament, receives from the king a scarf. This forms the subject of the chorus No. 8, of which it may be said, that it is powerful and effectively written, and the solo parts are in true character. Fortunatus acquaints Alide with the properties of the magic gifts, and is overheard by Agrippina.

No. 9. A very beautiful duet between Fortunatus and Alide commences. The motivo is uncommonly sweet, and the whole piece is calculated for the display of vocal talent.

No. 10. Aria of Agrippina, almost in the bravura style. Agrippina has revealed everything to her brother, and they resolve to despoil Fortunatus of his magic gifts.

No. 11. Terzet between Agrippina, Pedro, and Fortunatus. This and the following aria of Alide are the weakest pieces in the opera; the colouring and inspiration, more or less conspicuous in the other pieces, are wanting here. It should, however, be remarked that the action of the drama begins to drag in the second act, and that no situation predominates that is deserving of distinguished musical treatment, except the finale, No. 13.[Pg 9] Fortunatus, deprived of his talismans, and wandering about in a rocky glen, deplores his fate. He relates how Agrippina and Pedro bereft him of his magic gifts. To quench his thirst he plucks an apple from a tree, on the tasting of which he becomes as black as a negro. His good genius, however, directs him to pluck an apple from the opposite tree, the taste of which dissolves the spell. Upon this, he forms a plan for avenging himself, and recovering his lost treasures. The finale begins with an aria in C minor, in which Fortunatus expresses his eagerness for revenge. He plucks the apples which turn black such as taste them; but on gathering those which restore the original colour, and the effect of which is, therefore, just the reverse, the orchestra plays the same musical phrase reversed. The choruses of male and female gardeners are of a pastoral character. The awful passage of the horn solo when Fortunatus appears under the guise of a magic spirit, and which is introduced with great effect as a second melody, simultaneously with the peculiar subject which accompanies the plucking of the apples, forms a striking contrast to the chorus of the courtiers, who assent to the king’s remarks, and laugh at every stupid joke he utters. Agrippina and Pedro, tasting the apples, become black. General consternation ensues. The king curses the place, and the scene closes with a chorus.

No. 14. The commencement of the third act re-introduces the opening chorus of the first act. Fortunatus then appears as a Quack Doctor, and takes Carlino into his service as Punch. Pedro, understanding that the Doctor possesses unfailing remedies for diseases of the skin, is in hopes, through his means, to retrieve his lost colour.

Now begins No. 15, a terzet between Fortunatus, Carlino, and Pedro, during which the latter, by eating the healing apples, (the same musical phrase being played at the time which expressed the plucking of them,) recovers his complexion. The whole scene of the disenchantment is very original and dramatically written. Pedro hastens to his sister with Fortunatus to effect her cure also.

No. 16. Aria of Alide, who attempts to console her cousin Agrippina; full of melody, and concertante for the oboe, and of exquisite effect.

No. 17. Duet between Agrippina and Fortunatus. The latter being introduced by Pedro to his sister in order to accomplish her cure, obtains possession of the Wishing-Cap and Purse, and, grasping Agrippina, wishes himself and her in a convent on the coast of Sicily, where he compels her to pass the remainder of her days. This duet, with the chorus belonging to it, forms one of the most original and effective situations in the opera. Behind the scenes the nuns chaunt an old choral hymn, a piece of sacred harmony still sung in convents; to which, with the accompaniment of the orchestra, the above two sing the duet, wherein the violent and wicked character of Agrippina reaches its climax. The chorus is treated as canto fermo, and the dramatic air proceeds with it, free and unshackled; it is a composition worthy the highest praise. Agrippina takes the veil, and the invisible chorus finishes with an AMEN.

No. 18. Aria with concerted parts. Alide is to be united to Pedro. The King announces this in a pompous aria to the people, who express their joy. Here is introduced a very fine march. Fortunatus appears, unmasks the villain Pedro, and marries Alide. The opera closes with a concerted movement.

The representation of this work in Frankfort was admirable. M. Schmetzer, as Fortunatus, had ample opportunity to display his magnificent voce di petto. Demlle. Lampmann also proved very successful in the character of Alide. The getting up was worthy the theatre, and the applause unqualified.

M. MOSCHELES AT LEIPZIG.

M. MOSCHELES, whose talents as a pianist are held in such high estimation by every country where the musical art is appreciated, gave us an unrivalled treat on the 22nd instant (October), and again proved to us how much the character of a composition, and the feelings intended to be excited, depend on the taste, judgment, and animation with which it is performed. Our celebrated guest was welcomed in a manner correspondent to his high merits by an audience that completely thronged the Gewandhaus; and we trust that all who were present not only came to hear and to enjoy, but to learn. M. M. played his new concerto in C, and his fantasia, ‘Recollections of Denmark.’ It would be presumptuous to offer a judgment on works of art after but once hearing them, and more particularly so in the present instance, where the performance was so bewitching, that the critic’s attention was unavoidably drawn from the composition to the composer. It would be mere commonplace to call M. M. the true representative of the true school of piano-forte playing, or to say that a perfect gradation of power, brilliancy of touch, precision of time, and all the charms of rhythm are united in his performance. A detailed description of the merits of a master conveys no adequate idea of the qualities and powers peculiar to a man of genius. M. M. has all the difficulties of his instrument in such complete subjection, that as they increase, so does his command over them; while to the minutest particulars he has the happy art of giving a value and communicating an interest, so that the attention of his hearer never relaxes, and is always gratified.

In the midst of his energy he has a self-control which gives it dignity. Light and shade, power and sweetness are so admirably contrasted, or beautifully interwoven, that in the midst of his admiration the hearer is instructed. All M. M.’s peculiar merits were united in his extemporaneous fantasia, for which he had four themes of Mozart given to him by the audience. The most striking modulations blended with the most brilliant traits, that happy union and reunion of his subjects, in which Hummel also excels, the imposing dignity of his style, and an expression of lyrical feeling peculiar to himself, completed a combination of excellence that called forth the warmest marks of admiration from the delighted audience.

[Pg 10]

REVIEW OF NEW MUSIC.

SACRED MUSIC.

OF all the accomplishments which shed a grace over the clerical character, music is the most becoming. There is ‘nothing more strong and potent unto good than music,’ says Hooker; and Martin Luther ranks it next to theology. It is a social art, which draws persons together to enjoy a pleasure which can excite no bad passion, and who separate without any cause to regret an aching head, or a lightened purse, and, probably, a loss of temper. It very much assists in confining what are called the pleasures of the table within reasonable limits. It softens, though it never enervates the mind; and even if indulged in to excess, to the exclusion of more important pursuits, leaves at least the bodily health unimpaired. But, viewed as part of our church service—an essential part, indeed, the great length of the liturgy being considered—it is incumbent on the ministers of religion to acquire a competent knowledge of that which ought to be calculated to act very influentially, though calmly, on their congregations. In cathedrals it is absolutely necessary that the officiating clergy be well acquainted with music, for the greater part of the service in those establishments is set to musical notes. Hence we think it will be admitted, that a divine does not leave his calling when he dedicates some portion of his studies to an art so closely connected with his profession; and Mr. Day, while writing his present work, may truly be said to have been labouring in his vocation. Much more so, past all dispute, than if, following the example of so many of his brethren, he had devoted the same time to the performance of magisterial duties. We say nothing of hunting, and such unintellectual, savage amusements, presuming that very few of our clergy now engage in pursuits so utterly incompatible with the sacred character.

The volume before us contains twenty-two short pieces of vocal harmony, much, in fact, in the style of the psalm-tune, but more modern in all respects. The melodies are pleasing, some of them original; and in harmonizing these the composer has been quite successful, except in the few instances hereafter to be mentioned. Indeed a superior taste, and a knowledge of the best schools, distinguish most of Mr. Day’s pages. The words—which we must observe seem to partake strongly of what is called Evangelical feeling—are selected from Bishop Heber, Watts, Cowper, Wesley, Toplady, &c., the expression and accentuation whereof are irreproachable, except in one or two trifling instances not worthy of remark. But pleasing and good as the harmony generally is, we discover a few errors in it, which, in a work displaying so much talent and skill, rather surprise us. At page 14, third bar from the end, are three octaves. At page 26, the latter four bars exhibit more of such errors—that is, if it be intended that the base should take the lower notes. If otherwise, however, the unisons are very meagre. But severe critics will exclaim loudly at two consecutive fifths between the second and third bars of page 46, which, notwithstanding the enormity of the offence, we confess are less painful to our ears than the eighths we have just pointed out, though they will meet with no mercy from musical rigorists, and undoubtedly ought to have been detected by the composer, and corrected.

The manner in which this volume is brought out is an undeniable proof of the elegant taste of either the proprietor or his publisher; and the charitable purpose to which the profits arising from the sale of it are to be applied, is no less indicative of the benevolent feeling of the reverend author.

Mr. Hucheson’s work consists of sixteen original airs, harmonized for three and four voices. But to these are prefixed nine full quarto pages of what the writer denominates an ‘Introductory Sketch,’ to which, being by far the best and most interesting part of the volume, we first give our attention. It is a brief account of the origin and progress of musical psalmody, which he shows, from ecclesiastical historians, to have been introduced into England by Gregory the Great, at about the close of the sixth century. ‘In the seventh century a person not only taught the Monks sacred music, in the neighbourhood of Wearmouth, but also opened schools for musical instruction in the northern shires of England. Afterwards a similar school was established in Canterbury, and other places were provided with teachers from that country. The reign of Alfred adorned the close of the ninth century, and by him music was liberally patronised. St. Dunstan, in the tenth century, excelled in sacred music, as well as in the arts of painting and sculpture.’ In succeeding centuries much of the ample revenues of the church were expended in the encouragement of music. ‘Indeed, so much was it then studied, that the priests of almost every European nation travelled to Rome to learn chanting.’

Mr. Hucheson is a strenuous advocate for congregational psalm-singing. His arguments are incontrovertible, if those who would sing, could, and if those who could sing, would; but, unhappily, the want of ability in some, and either the shyness or the pride (we fear the latter) of others, presents an insurmountable obstacle to so desirable a practice. The author is of opinion that congregations should be instructed in psalmody, and that ‘a choir, consisting of their own members, ought to occupy a situation in the church near the conductor of the music.’ ... ‘The music of the church would immediately become a theme of conversation at home, and of remark abroad; and the subject being frequently discussed, would lead to just views of its importance, and originate plans for its improvement, by the influence of judicious criticism.’

As we have said above, if the great length of our morning service is to continue unabridged, music must remain an essential part of it: without the intervention of this, attention could hardly for so long a time, and amidst so many repetitions, be kept alive; and if introduced, it ought to be good. At all events, whatever in any degree tends to excite ridiculous ideas should be most scrupulously avoided; and what can be more ludicrous than the squalling of a bevy of charity-children—the vocal musicians of most parish churches? But will congregations be induced to join heart and voice in the psalm, or any other kind of music? We fear not; for though, owing to the increased diffusion of musical knowledge, numbers are qualified, and would soon qualify others, yet absurd aristocratic feeling is so prevalent in this our country, that where humility[Pg 11] should be most felt—in places of worship,—each class, from the highest to almost the lowest, considers it a degradation to unite with those beneath it, and pride, the denounced of religion and bane of society, is as little suppressed in the church as at Almack’s.

Of the music in this work we cannot say much that will prove gratifying to the composer. His melodies are not censurable, we admit, except as being common; but his knowledge of harmony, as evinced in his accompaniments, is of a very imperfect kind, and he seems not to have taken the precaution to avail himself of that assistance which we presume was easily to have been obtained.

PIANO FORTE.

FIFTH CONCERTO, (in C major) with or without Orchestral Accompaniments, composed by I. MOSCHELES. Op. 87. (Cramer and Co. and Mori.)

THIS Concerto was produced, for the first time, if we mistake not, at Mr. Moscheles’ concert in June last; and the impression it made on us was so strong, that the piano-forte part alone now brings to our recollection most of the effects produced by an efficient orchestra. This might almost be considered as a symphony, so full and active are the instrumental parts; but the present publication, without the accompaniments, includes all that belongs to the instrument for which it is principally written, and is so far complete in itself; though, of course, much of the grandeur of the composition, as well as many highly important effects, must be lost, if unaccompanied. The very opening of the concerto leads us to expect a work of great originality, and we are not disappointed in its progress. The following are the first dozen bars:—

The progress of the principal and subordinate subjects is through nearly all the keys and every variety of passage, and the ingenuity with which this is managed is, in most instances, rewarded by the effect produced. Though it must be granted that there are, in this movement, certain difficulties which can have no other object than to show the dexterity of the performer. And as to the sestine of semiquavers, (page 20,) against four of the same notes, we must say that, even when executed with mathematical precision, which is nearly impossible, (would it were quite so!) the result is confusion between the two parts, and, consequently, the effect on the ear painful.

The second movement is beautiful throughout; the commencement, in which the violoncello takes the melody, is so lovely a piece of simple harmony, that we cannot forbear extracting it:—

But the most popular part of the present work,—and amongst much originality we may also mention it as the most original,—is the finale, or last movement. When performed, on the occasion before alluded to, the very opening excited a murmur of applause, and increasing satisfaction was marked on the countenances of the audience as it proceeded. An examination of this does not lessen our admiration of it; the invention, consistency, and spirit of the whole, are manifest from the first to the last bars. We shall add to our quotations the commencement of this, by which the reader will see that the movement is not cast in a common mould.

The three bars, or second subject, from the word dolce, are afterwards taken, but in the relative minor, as the point of a fugato, which morsel of science à l’ancienne, coming in so unexpectedly, and not continuing long enough to puzzle and weary the unlearned, must be counted among the happiest thoughts in the work.

This concerto, having been written for Mr. Moscheles’ own performance, therefore for effect of all kinds, including a display of his powers of execution, is, as will be supposed, abundantly difficult—we therefore only recommend it to very superior players; to such it cannot but prove highly valuable.

THE opera, 8 of Cramer, long ago taught us to associate agreeably his name and airs à la Russe; we therefore anticipated much of the pleasure which the above publication has afforded us, and feel confident that it will find an admirer in every lover of true piano-forte music. The Rondo Brillant is in A, 24 time, allegretto scherzando; the subject simple, melodious, and treated in a fanciful, sprightly manner;—with great taste, it is superfluous to add, for whoever knew this quality wanting in any of Cramer’s productions? It is also practicable by all tolerable performers, and comprehensible to every one with a musical ear, a praise unmerited by many composers of great name in the present day. We were much struck by a very bold enharmonic change from E to E flat

and back again (page 3); it will always rouse the attention of the hearer, however drowsy he may happen to be. The introduction, adagio, is expressive, energetic, and just the right length. At page 6, bar 15, is a C sharp

, which ought to be D sharp

. As the same error is repeated two bars beyond, it might mislead the performer, if not pointed out as a misprint.

No. 2 is a Polonaise, which, if played in the time indicated by the composer,—that is, not quick, for so we are to understand the term grazioso,—will produce very considerable effect. The subject is exciting, and well supported, the modulations good, the passages mostly lie well for the hand, and the whole being included in nine pages, the interest never flags. But as if M. Payer were resolved that no one composition by M. Czerny should appear without some drawback, he has written an introduction to[Pg 13] this, in which is a passage of semitones more ingeniously tormenting to the ear than any we ever had the ill-fortune to meet with. The whole of this part is full of pretence, and wretchedly unmeaning. We advise the performer (who ought to be a skilful one to execute the Polonaise) to substitute a few chords for M. Payer’s senseless page, begrimmed as it is with half demi-semiquavers, for so sure as his hideous notes are played, the auditors will simultaneously take to flight; while the canine species, if any are within hearing, will proclaim their sufferings in corresponding sounds.

No. 1, from an opera now having a great run in Paris, composed by Halevy, is an excellent rondo, the air graceful and pleasing, and the amplification of it exhibiting delicacy of taste and a full knowledge of the character and capabilities of the instrument. Here we find no notes sixty-four to a bar,—no leaps of 17ths and 19ths,—no howling runs of semitones,—all is rational, and worthy of a clever, spirited writer. Let it, however, be observed, that the author of this is not Henri Herz, but his brother, who appears to have a soul for music; while his relative only shows that he has fingers and thumbs for the art. This air is named La Romeca in the opera; it is by comparison short, and though it looks easy, requires an experienced player, and one with a wide hand, the base passages continually embracing ten notes.

No. 2 is clearly a dance-tune: its rhythm of three and two bars shows that the measure is made to yield to stage action. The air is rather pretty—somewhat national in character, and the composer’s chief aim seems to have been, to make the rondo as easy to the performer as was possible, short of being rendered fit for a learner of three months’ standing.

THE least meritorious part of No. 1 is the title-page, which we have cut short; not, however, from any disrespect to her Majesty, our queen, whose name, ‘by special permission,’ appears on it, but because it contains much nonsense. The five variations on Paisiello’s air, ‘Nel cor piu non mi sento,’ are rather clever in contrivance, and pleasing, but let us hope that not above half of these were ever played on the organ, for semidemisemiquavers on that instrument would be as much out of character as a bravura from the pulpit. Indeed, we must say that, however well suited to the piano-forte, there is hardly a single page of this calculated for that noble piece of mechanism, the organ. If, nevertheless, the whole were ever performed on the Apollonicon, and met with the ‘unbounded applause’ which the composer—reviving a vain, childish, absurd phrase, which we hoped had been exploded—boasts of, such applause only proves what a modicum of discrimination his auditors must have brought with them into the room.

No. 2 has much to recommend it to general notice;—the barcarolle, by Herold, is a beautiful melody; it is exceedingly well worked into a rondo, by Mr. Karr; the piece is not long, shews much taste, and is well adapted to the instrument.

THE variations on the Blue-bells are very much like numberless other things of the kind; the composer does not seem to have even made an effort to strike out of the highway; he has followed the beaten path, and committed no offence. The only attempt at novelty is to be found in the title-page—(your title-pages are great tests of understanding)—where, in dedicating his variations to a friend, in English, he tells us, in French, that the dedicatee is an ‘élève de Bochsa!’—as if the words were untranslatable; and also as if the world cared one straw about such a piece of information.

The delicious air, ‘Oft in the stilly night,’ would, we should have thought, have spoken for itself, and pointed out an elegant calmness as the proper character of any variations written on it; but the composer either has not heard, or has not listened to, the ‘still small voice’ of reason; he has given us, first, a page of demisemiquavers, ‘brillante’, 24 time; next a crowd of skipping triplets; then poured on us another flood of three-tailed notes, ‘Con Fuoco;’ and afterwards as many more of the same kind, ‘presto!’—to say nothing of a coda in a similar style. There is not a single new idea to be found in the whole piece. If such things as this confer the title of ‘composer,’ we then can only say that it is a title very easily obtained.

ROBERT LE DIABLE.

THE Overture to Robert is in two movements; the first an andante maestoso in C minor, meant as a prologue to the diablerie of the drama—a very much laboured composition, which does not make a return equal to the trouble bestowed on it. The second is an anticipation of the admirable and really popular air, ‘Jadis regnait en Normandie.’ The introduction wants the voices and stage action to give due effect to it, but there are some fine musical points in it, which the pianoforte is quite sufficient to bring forth. The whole of this is most judiciously arranged.

We never discovered the great merit of the Dance of the Flower-Girl, No. 2, and suspect that the grace (not, let us[Pg 14] hope, the distortions) of Mademoiselle Taglioni produced more effect than the music. The coda to this, however, is melodious and enlivening; and the whole piece is adapted in a manner to have been expected from so sensible a man as M. Meyerbeer.

No. 3, the Chorus in the introduction, we have spoken of above. This is also remarkably well arranged by M. Jules (such Christian name we believe he bears) Herz. Much of this is pleasing, and the whole showy, without annoying the player and hearer with any sleight-of-hand tricks.

In No. 4, M. Czerny appears not only in a rational, but almost in an amiable shape. It would have been unpardonable to slay so good an air as this under its parent’s eye. The first variation is a little skittish, but afterwards the composer becomes sober, though very animated, brilliant, and agreeable. The Introduction is the best thing of the kind we ever saw from the pen of M. Czerny. The whole makes a very delightful, and not very difficult, divertimento.

Mr. Valentine, in No. 5, has given us a simple, unaffected, good arrangement of one of the most original airs in the opera. This is short, perfectly easy, and is adapted to those whose progress, or practical skill, may deter them from undertaking any of the foregoing pieces.

No. 1 is a pleasing, short waltz, but the grandeur of it, predicated in the title-page, has not been revealed to us, though, doubtless, very apparent to the author. The variations are few, moderate in length, spirited, and though not very novel, are agreeable. The finale, a Polacca, is exhilarating, well put together, and can never lack admirers.

No. 2 comprises five well-written waltzes, which will not fail to please. But of what country is the composer? His title would incline us to suppose him a Frenchman, but that the grammar is false. The word waltzer, neither English nor French, tempts us to ask if he is a native of Germany. Perhaps it is not a matter of very singular importance, but we abhor remaining in doubt, and like everything to be in good keeping.

No. 3 and 4 possess a sufficiency of agreeable melody, but not of that sort which surprises by its novelty. The quadrilles are all strictly correct, and call for no greater exertion on the part of the performer, than they seem to have cost the composer.

INSTRUCTIONS FOR THE PIANO-FORTE, &c., including a variety of Fingered Exercises, favourite Airs, &c. &c., by R. W. KEITH. (Keith, Prowse, and Co.)

THIS, it appears, is the fifth edition of the work, though the first that ever fell under our notice. But the word ‘edition’ is not always construed in the same manner by music publishers as by publishers of literature. By the former, a second, &c. impression, of perhaps a hundred copies from the same plates, is sometimes called an edition, though, in point of fact, two thousand copies are always taken from one set of plates, if there is a demand for so many. Correctly speaking, then, an edition of a musical work, printed from pewter plates, and that has a large sale, is never under two thousand; and if, in announcing the present as the ‘fifth edition’ is meant that eight thousand copies have already been sold, we can only express our surprise at never having met with the work till now. Comparing it with many other publications of the same nature, it certainly is entitled to commendation, though far from being perfect; indeed, as we have more than once hinted, a good elementary work: a work which, in method, perspicuity, and accuracy of definition, may rival the didactic publications of the present day in other arts and sciences, is still a desideratum.

Mr. Keith is correct in his principles: his examples, though not always judiciously selected, are well fingered, and his annotations are, for the most part, accurate and useful; but his language is frequently not sufficiently precise, his punctuation often involves him in obscurity, and his definitions are sometimes erroneous. For instance, he tells us (page 16), that a bar ‘determines the place on which the accent is laid.’ Now, a bar has nothing whatever to do with determining the accent, it only assists in pointing out the note which is to be accented. Again, in the same page, it is said, that ‘a crescendo is effected on the piano-forte, by pressing down the key immediately after it is struck.’ But the truth is, that loudness, or softness, wholly depends on the force with which the key is struck; pressure after the key is down is useful in the legato style, but cannot, by any possibility, increase or diminish the degree of sound. At page 19, and in many other parts of the book, we read of a ‘grave angle!’ The only representative, in our mind, of a grave angle, is the corner of a tomb-stone. There is but one angle used as a sign in music, and that is an acute angle.

We protest most strongly against Mr. Keith’s mode of accompanying the scale, both major and minor: his seventh, on the rising sub-mediant of the former; his minor third, on the dominant of the latter, and his change from the perfect chord to that of 42 on the octave, are opposed to the best authorities, differ from universal practice, are at variance with theory, and, in our opinion, hostile to good taste.

In his dictionary of Italian words we likewise find objectionable points. The orthography of several words stands in need of amendment, and the explanation of some is incorrect. Here, also, is a want of that strict definition, which is of so much importance in education. A child, while even learning music, might, if instructed by a well-informed, sensible master, incidentally have her mind opened on many other subjects.

We call the author’s attention to these defects, considering them remediable. If amended, his book will, we repeat, be found equal to most of the kind, and superior to many.

VOCAL.—DRAMATIC.

THE first and second of the above are one and the same air: it is in three movements; the two last of the bravura kind, and all requiring a voice of great compass and flexibility. The opening reminds the hearer of the most famous of all the Tyrolian airs; and there are passages in the air which at once father it on the composer of Il Crociato. The whole is energetic, and full of dramatic effect.

No. 3 was much sung here last season, by Madame Cinti, who can render almost anything agreeable. It would be thought long in the hands of singers of the second class, though there is a great deal of originality in the first movement, and considerable merit in the whole. But the latter part is certainly too much spun out, the first stanza being repeated over and over again till it becomes somewhat fatiguing. The effect of this considerably depends on action; it is therefore better suited to the stage than to concert or drawing-rooms.

The three ballads by Mr. Lee all possess a certain degree of insipid prettiness, which enables them to pass uncensured, for they exhibit no fault in composition, or in the setting of the words; while it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to discover a single original trait in any one of them. Hence they are easily understood by an audience, and give not the slightest trouble to either singer or accompanist in private.

No. 1 is as easy to sing as it was to write. The composer certainly did not rack his brains in search of novelty when he put this glee on paper; neither, we are equally sure, did he bestow much thought of any kind on any one line of it.

No. 2 is well set, as regards accentuation, and the melody, though made up of not any uncommon phrases and cadences, is far from inelegant, and the whole is quite easy.

No. 3, meant to be descriptive of a calm followed by a storm, is not very successful. The first part may perhaps pass, but it was a great mistake to relate the fatal catastrophe in notes which described stillness and security—in a kind of da capo.

No. 4 is, we presume, one of those things which the composer has penned down after dinner, to avert a fit of somnolency; which, however, will be transferred to all who listen to this song.

No. 5 is a brisk Aubade, or morning-song, which may prove useful in ordinary cases, but has not sufficient potency to rouse the nymph who is cast into a very deep slumber. In the opening symphony, the last bar, the fifth, should be omitted; and in the first bar of page 2, the F must, of course, be sharp. Being natural a second time, in the following verse, may raise a doubt as to the author’s meaning.

To No. 6 no fault can be imputed. But though the music is good, and the verses set with great propriety, yet we expected more from so intellectual a composer, the exciting nature of the occasion being considered.

No. 7 is indebted to Haydn’s Mermaid’s Song for the commencement. The whole is airy, and quietly but well accompanied; and there is a good deal of variety in the song, just indeed such as the words required. We should be better satisfied with the symphony were the seventh and tenth bars discarded, and a pause given to the last rest in the ninth. The rhythm, in fact, requires this, or some such change, for the last bar here counts for nothing in musical prosody.

No. 8 is not equal to some of Mr. Nielson’s songs; there is nothing in it to fix attention, either in melody or accompaniment. The disjunction of the words, bars two and three, page 3, just where they ought to have been joined, is injudicious; and the error is not less in making the last syllable long in ‘companionship,’ and the first so drawlingly slow in ‘apathy.’

No. 9 is just such a cheerful melody as we can imagine a frank, independent, right-thinking Scottish lassie would sing to such words. The song has only the merit of what the schoolmen call congruity.

No. 12 has the appearance of being an imitation of Charles Smith’s popular song, but exhibits errors not to be found in the model. Between the sixth and seventh bars of page 2 are fifths which few ears will tolerate; these occurring again in the second verse. And in order to have got out of an embarrassment in which the composer evidently found himself while writing bars eight and nine, same page, he should have struck out the E flat

and the first D flat

in the treble staff. There are, nevertheless, symptoms of taste and feeling in parts of this ballad.

FLUTE AND PIANO-FORTE.

MUSIC for the flute is seldom written in a learned and laborious manner. With this fact in view, we may venture to say that Kuhlau’s trio for two flutes and piano-forte is a clever composition; it abounds in air, not of a common kind, and the harmony is rich, particularly in the adagio, a short movement in E flat

, full of expression. The first and last movements are in G; the former melodious and elegant; the latter, a gay, brilliant rondo. This is not very difficult for the instruments, though it requires practised performers; and will, we cannot doubt, be exceedingly well received in any small party of connoisseurs.

No. 2 is the charming chorus and cavatina, ‘Bel raggio lusinghiere,’ which M. Bucher, according to the practice of too many flutists, has twisted into all kinds of unnatural shapes, by means of variations, in which execution is the only aim of the composer. That much cleverness, in one sense of the word, is evinced in these, we do not deny; but cannot allow that what ought to be the chief object—good and pleasing music, in which the art, not the performer, is most prominent—has been sufficiently, if at all, taken into consideration.

certainly very pleasantly and well arranged, moderate in length, and calling for only reasonable powers in the flutist. The accompaniment quite easy.

Nos. 2, 3, and 4 form a highly useful work, at least to those who admire modern opera airs. These numbers contain ‘Ah, come rapida!’ from Meyerbeer’s Crociato; ‘Soave e bel contento,’ from Pacini’s Niobe; and ‘Deh! Calma, o ciel!’ from Rossini’s Otello. The flute part is difficult; the accompaniment otherwise. Both are printed together, but the former is also in a detached sheet.

FLUTE.

THE ‘old friends’ are Scottish and Irish melodies, the best that could be chosen, with variations to each; some in character with the airs, and suited to the instrument; others yielding to fashion, therefore not remarkable for appropriateness. This little work has an apposite motto, ‘Should auld acquaintance be forgot?’ and those who say ‘nay,’ will do well to purchase the work.

No. 2 is the first number we have received of this periodical. It consists of twelve octavo pages, containing short airs, also duets for two flutes, arranged from popular compositions. We find here the six airs performed by Paganini; a waltz; a prelude and adagio, by Gabrielsky, and three other pieces. The work is neatly printed on good paper.

EXTRACTS FROM THE DIARY OF A DILETTANTE.

December 1st.—NOTHING is talked about, or thought of, except the siege of Antwerp and the general election. Sounds are heard on the Kent and Essex coasts, which turn out to be only the thundering of artillery, and the hopes of a dilettante are cast down long before the walls of the citadel begin to tremble. Bands of music are collecting in all quarters, but they eschew symphonies, overtures, and even serenades; their sole purpose is to drown, not accompany, the voices of rival candidates for parliamentary seats, who, by the way, are commonly gainers thereby, in having speeches reported which they could not have made. The autumn has passed away without a concert in the provinces worth mentioning, and the foreign journals are as barren of musical matter as our own newspapers. The doer of small Monday’s articles in the Chronicle, who used at this season to tell his hebdomadal tales of what great things were to be expected at the opening of the Italian opera—of Signori and Signore, surpassing all that had before been heard—of musical dramas, of which ‘green-room report’ invariably spoke ‘in the highest terms,’—of some wonderful wonder of wonders, whose fiddle was to reduce that of Calliope’s son to a mere kit, or to whose voice Stentor’s was but a gentle whisper,—even this urbane propagator of pleasing exaggerations is mute! However, a Polish Paganini, it is said, is on his way hither; but let us hope that he will leave his name behind him, for, if[Pg 17] we have it correctly spelt, every syllable would cost a tooth in pronouncing. Also the celebrated concerto-drummer, and the famous guimbardist, with the young lady renowned for her grindery on the Vielle, are expected shortly; and rumour states, though I do not believe it, that the King’s theatre is to be the scene of their astonishing exploits; the whole pit to be converted into stalls at a guinea each, and the boxes, at ten, to be reserved exclusively for the Almackites. Query, is this the grand secret which we have been told Christmas is to divulge?

The Sphinx has now no riddle; but a neighbouring statue has long puzzled the learned of all nations by its supposed hymn to the rising sun. A very intelligent traveller, however, who lately visited Egyptian Thebes, and has published an interesting account of its antiquities, therein communicates the grand secret of the vocal stone, which he had from a gentleman who has long lived in its immediate vicinity. It fairly belongs to musical history, for the instrument employed by the cunning priestly performers was, it would appear, decidedly a musical instrument. The following is the statement:—

‘The famous musical statue of MEMNON is still seated on its throne, dignified and serene as the plain of Thebes. It is a colossus, fifty feet in height, and the base of the figure is covered with inscriptions of the Greek and Roman travellers, vouching that they had listened to the wild sunrise melody. The learned and ingenious Mr. Wilkinson, who has resided at Thebes upwards of ten years, studying the monuments of Egypt, appears to me to have solved the mystery of this music. He informed me that having ascended the statue, he discovered that some metallic substance had been inserted in its breast, which, when struck, emitted a very melodious sound. From the attitude of the statue a priest might easily have ascended in the night, and remained completely concealed behind the mighty arms, while he struck the breast: or, which is not improbable, there was some secret way to ascend, now blocked up, for this statue, with its companion, although now isolated, were once part of an enormous temple, the plan of which may now be traced.

‘Thanks to the Phonetic system, we now know that this musical statue is one of AMUNOPH the SECOND, who lived many centuries before the Trojan war. The truth is, that the Greeks, who have exercised almost as fatal an influence over modern knowledge as they have a beneficial one over modern taste, had no conception of anything more ancient than the Trojan war, except chaos. Chaos is a poetic legend, and the Trojan war was the squabble of a few marauding clans.’

3rd. A Manchester paper of a few days ago, relates the following ‘SINGULAR EFFECT OF MUSIC.’ At the Cheetham-hill Glee-club, on Monday evening, during the performance of “Non nobis, Domine,” which was sung by about forty voices, a tumbler glass which stood upon a table in the room, broke into a thousand pieces, as if shattered by an explosion of gunpowder. When Dragonetti heard this paragraph read, he exclaimed, in his patois,—‘it vas no maraviglia du tout dat de canon made great noise, and cassée de glass[6].’

But a Lady’s Magazine for last November relates something much more marvellous than the foregoing: it tells us that one single man, by only breathing into a glass, shivered it to pieces! Even this is as nothing compared to the power ascribed to Lablache in the same article. The whole is a choice specimen of literary composition, of appropriate words, and of scientific knowledge.—

‘The voice of Lablache,’ says the writer, ‘has lost the usual extent of base voices—from sol to mi. With the exception of the two extreme notes, his voice sounds equally on all points. It rings like a bell by the force of its vibrations, and not by the action or contraction of the gullet. The sound escapes as freely from his breast as from the pipe of an organ of eight feet. Some of our readers may have heard of the fine voice of Cheron. After Cheron had been singing, he would, after refreshing himself with sugared water, breathe in the empty glass, and the fragile crystal flew in a thousand fragments; but if the Italian Hercules chose to send forth his re in a salon, with the strength of volume he can give, all the glass in the room would fly in shivers.’

Let us express a fervent wish that Signor Lablache may never exhibit his full powers in the Hanover Square Rooms, where there are valuable mirrors and chandeliers. But it is still more earnestly to be hoped that nothing may tempt him to utter his re in Hancock’s, or in Collins’s warehouse: his single note there would do more damage than one of the new French bombs:—the pranks of a mad bull in a china-shop would be harmlessness itself compared to the desolation which the Italian’s D would produce in the splendid show-rooms of either of those great manufacturers.

5th. I have often laughed at Paganini’s single-string feats, and regretted the waste of his talent on witches’ dances, the clucking of hens, &c., but I quite agree with him that there is a philosophy of the violin, though many people, judging too hastily, will smile at the expression. I am led to this remark by the Court Journal of the 1st of this month, where a writer, who has published Recollections of Paganini, states, under the date of July 2, 1831, that he had read to the violinist some remarks on his playing which appeared in the Harmonicon. ‘I explained to him,’ it is said, ‘how eloquently they (the we of the Harmonicon) had spoken of the truth of his intonation,’ &c. &c. ‘And’—interposed Paganini, with a triumphant smile, as if to anticipate what they ought to have been most eloquent upon—‘della filosofia del violino.’

Perhaps the authority of Paganini may lead some musicians, who are his admirers, to think that there actually is a philosophy in their art. As this philosophy is what many of them do not very well understand, the vainest and most obtuse among the number have pretended to ridicule it, and, like the fox in the fable, affected to despise what they could not attain. But the schoolmaster is abroad, and musical men, who do not advance with the rest of the world, will soon sink to their proper level. They must begin to reason as well as play, or contempt will be their lot. Much good would ensue from philosophising a little on music, for its principles—I mean the principles which practical men ought to understand—are founded on a purely philosophical basis. But how few, even of the best composers, to say nothing of mere performers, have devoted the least attention to this subject! Is the Royal Academy in Tenterden-Street beginning at last to think of it?—I fear not.

The writer of the article alluded to in the following, will, no doubt, be glad to see his error corrected. A few days after the above conversation, the author of the Recollections[Pg 18] tells us, ‘When I called on the Signor, he requested me to translate him an article in the Harmonicon, relative to his talent. He paid great attention to it as I proceeded. To the assertion about his using his thumb, to make some of the stops on his instrument, he gave a direct contradiction, but said, “Let them believe it: as I have so many notes, they think I have plenty to do for ten fingers.” He was greatly diverted with the joke of his performing on strings supposed to have been extracted from the intestinal system of a certain illustrious prelate, and thus rendering his notes infallible.’

16th.—It has been said, that empire began in the east and will end in the west. Bishop Berkeley’s prophecy is—

I have great faith in this; and if for empire we read opera, the prediction will, probably, in the course of half a century, be also verified. The New-York American says, ‘It is settled that we are to have a permanent opera-house. The ground has been bought, the subscription opened, 60,000 dollars out of 100,000 were at once taken, ten trustees appointed, and an application will be made next Session of the legislature to incorporate the “Italian Opera Association,” with a capital stock of 100,000 dollars.’ The Italian Opera, therefore, is now naturalized in a country which was only discovered about the time that the lyric drama had its origin in Europe!

23rd.—In the history of the march of intellect, the swan, it seems, will make a figure. In spite of what has been said of her ‘silent throat,’ and of her singing ‘her first and last’ when at the point of death, it now appears that she is become accomplished, to a certain degree at least, in the vocal art. A Sunday paper (Bell’s) of this day, states, that a periodical work published at Stralsund contains a paper on the song of the swan, by an eminent naturalist in Pomerania, which he closes by observing that, ‘in a state of nature, the swan, as evening approaches, joins with its companions in a species of choral melody, which falls upon the ear, in the distance, with the sweetness almost of an Æolian harp. But when a person is near, it more resembles the quick sharp clang of a carriage traversing frozen snow on a sledge.’ According to the author’s account, the chorus is not unlike the Russian horn-band, ‘for each bird emits but a single note, and a response is given by each of his clan. The fishermen consider the swan’s song as prognosticating a storm.’

FOREIGN MUSICAL REPORT.

VIENNA.

Josephstadt Theater.—Donizetti’s opera Der Verwiesene aus Rom (L’ Esule di Roma) has been brought out here with tolerable success, though it is not likely to become a permanent favourite. Die Stumme von Portici has also been produced, and was well received.

On the 22nd September a concert was given by Mr. Fried. Wilh. Pixis, the violin player, and Madlle. Elise Barth, the pianiste, both of the Conservatoire at Prague, and Mad. Podhorsky, prima donna at Prague. The three artists distinguished themselves by a rich display of their respective talents, and were warmly applauded.

M. Girolamo Salieri, a clarionet player from Venice, gave a concert here on the 7th October: this virtuoso, who has attained the most perfect mastery over his instrument, afforded a rich treat to his audience, which was unfortunately, however, not very numerous.

Madlle. Heinefetter is at present here, and is engaged for a few nights at the Court Theatre.

BERLIN.

On the 22nd October was performed Die Hochzeit des Figaro, with M. and Mad. Reichel as Figaro and the Countess: the former sang with much spirit, and Mad. R. displayed all the qualities of an excellent singer, though not perfectly matured.

The first winter concert, given by Mad. Milder, took place on the 25th, on which occasion were performed several pieces of Neukomm’s, which, though compositions of great merit, were not very remarkable in point of invention. M. Felix Mendelssohn played Mozart’s Concerto in D minor. This young artist, it is stated, is about to get up three charitable concerts during the winter, in which he will bring forward some pieces of his own, not yet performed here, besides other compositions of sterling worth, among them a symphony in D major, by Ludwig Berger. In short it is intended that these concerts shall be equally interesting and attractive to the cultivated musician and to the amateur.

The Singing Academy proposes to give four Oratorios, Salomon, and Joshua of Handel, St. John the Evangelist, by Seb. Bach, and the fourth will probably be one of Haydn’s, but which it is not yet determined.

The four brothers Müller, the quartet-players, are expected to return in a short time from Brunswick.

The musical soirées of M. M. D. Möser commenced on the 31st October, when Mozart’s and Beethoven’s Symphonies in C major and the overture to Euryanthe were played.

LEIPZIG.

At the winter concerts, which commenced at Michaelmas, have already been played Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony, Kalliwoda’s Symphony, No 3, Onslow’s first Symphony, and a second of Beethoven’s, and the overtures to Ulysses and Circe by B. Romberg, and Euryanthe. Also a new overture by M. J. B. Gross, a young virtuoso on the violoncello, which, though its difficult rhythmical proportions and harmonic progressions are little in accordance with the present fashion, had the good fortune to be well received. Madlle. Henriette Graban is again the principal singer, and Madlle. Livia Gerhardt is engaged as second singer: she has a very sweet voice, particularly in the upper notes, great purity of intonation and considerable flexibility. M. Otto, the tenor, and M. Pögner, the bass, formerly of the Königliche Theater, have also sung at these concerts; and choruses have been given from Euryanthe, I Capuletti e Montechi, and Zemire und Azor. The solo players have been Madlle. Clara Wieck, and M. D. Schlesinger on the piano-forte; on the violin, M. Ullrich and M. Kalliwoda, kapellmeister in Donaueschingen, who played his last violin concertino to the delight of all present; and on the violoncello, M. Gross, who has great powers of execution, and his tone is remarkably sweet.

On the 15th October, a concert was given by M. Kalliwoda, and the selection consisted chiefly of new compositions of that highly gifted master; two new overtures, powerfully instrumentalized, remarkable for their light flowing melodies, a rondo, a pot-pourri, and a concertante for two violins, were among the number; the second violin, in the latter, was played by M. Eichler. The principal singers were Madlle. Livia Gerhardt and MM. Eichberger and Hauser. M. K. is about to leave Leipzig, on a tour to Magdeburg, Berlin, Hamburg, Hanover, Bremen, &c.

The next concert was that which M. Moscheles gave on the 22nd October, at which he performed his new concerto in C major, and his Recollections of Denmark, Op. 83. Mad. Beranek sang the scena Ocean du Ungeheur (Ocean, thou mighty monster), from Oberon, with energy and much feeling.

A. M. Ferd. Vogel, from Berlin, has given two organ concerts at the church of St. Paul. Fugues by Seb. Bach and others, choruses of men, symphonies with trumpet accompaniment, sonatas (Mozart’s) arranged for the organ, elegiac romances, and other pieces chiefly compositions of the young organist himself, rendered the whole, by their judicious selection and order of succession, very attractive.

M. Stegmeier, late of the Königstadt Theater at Berlin, is appointed music director at the theatre here.

KÖNIGSBERG.

M. Friedrich Wilhelm Eichler, the excellent violinist of Leipzig, a young man twenty-five years of age, zealous in his profession and of great promise, is engaged as leader here, and is shortly expected; he is a pupil of Spohr’s.

WARSAW.

A Polish journal (Dziennik powszechny), speaks in the highest terms of the violin-playing of a Mad. Filipowicz, a pupil of Spohr. Her cantilena is superb, and she overcomes the must formidable difficulties with apparent ease; her performance of Rode’s Variations in E, produced the greatest effect. She has given three concerts in Warsaw, and has on every occasion inspired her audience with enthusiasm.

BRESLAU.

At the church of St. Bernhardin a sacred concert was given on the 19th October, for the benefit of the poor, at which, besides several pieces for the organ, in which MM. Köhler and Hesse particularly distinguished themselves, was performed the first part of the oratorio Tobias, composed by the latter.

On the 25th, a grand concert was given by Madlle. Elise Barth, and M. Fried. W. Pixis, who richly merited the applause which was lavished upon them.

LEGHORN.

Ferdinand Ries is at present here. At Milan, in fact at all places in his way where the celebrated composer visited his brother artists, he met with the warmest welcome, and the most cordial treatment.

PARIS.

Théatre Royal Italien. Bellini’s opera, La Straniera, (the Stranger) was produced here, lately, with success. In this Madlle. Judith Grisi made her début, in the character of Alaide. She much resembles her sister, Madlle. Giulietta Grisi, and the voices have a family likeness; that of the débutante extends to two octaves, from si to si (i.e. from B below the lines to B above), is of a brilliant quality, though not flexible, but there is much energy in her style; she distinctly marks whatever she performs, and sustained her part with talent, both as singer and actress. She was supported by Rubini and Tamburini. The former was allowed to introduce a song, by Pacini, of very inferior merit, a practice which, whatever may be the value of the composition, ought to be discouraged, if not by directors—who too frequently are themselves directed—the public should take the matter into their own hands, and prevent such absurd and injurious intrusions.

DRURY LANE THEATRE.

WHATEVER former general elections may have done, the present certainly has not operated favourably for the two winter theatres. The labours of canvassing, and the meetings of committees, sub-committees, branch committees, &c. in each parish, have engaged a great number of heads of families, while the anxiety which has pervaded all ranks, has been excitement enough for numberless persons who would otherwise have sought it in the theatre.

The musical novelties at both houses have been singularly unsuccessful this season, so far as it has gone. The public are becoming better and better acquainted with the art; are fast growing into critics, therefore more nice than formerly. Besides which, much talent for musical composition has not lately been shown at our theatres, for the encouragement is insufficient to produce effectual competition. Several who can write have not inducement enough to exert their abilities, knowing how much time they must bestow, how many vexations they will have to encounter, how precarious is success, and the certainty, even if successful, of being very inadequately rewarded for their efforts and labours.

Old pieces revived have proved the most fortunate; among which Masaniello has drawn many to this theatre, to see Mr. BRAHAM in the character of the ambitious Fisherman, which he performed admirably.

On Tuesday, the 18th ult., Mrs. CENTLIVRE’s Bold Stroke for a Wife, with the newly-given title of Win her and Wear her, and converted into a musical piece, was performed for the first time, BRAHAM undertaking the part of Colonel Feignwell. There is so much absurdity in the plot of this, and the language betrays so many symptoms of poverty, that had it not been for the variety in every act, and the constant bustle kept up, it would, long ago, have been banished the stage. The coarseness of the allusions, as they appeared in the original drama, at one[Pg 20] time recommended it, but it has been much chastened since, and now has little in it to offend the most fastidious ears. We really thought that the proposed alterations in this, by Mr. BEASELEY, and the addition of music, promised well, but the attempt has not succeeded; and after having been performed twice, was not announced for a third representation; at least up to the writing of these remarks.

In the most arduous part of this play—indeed the only part requiring much talent or exertion—BRAHAM succeeded beyond expectation. Such an effort in acting he had never made before, and most are agreed that his Dutchman was excellent; his Quaker very characteristic, and entertaining to those who have no objection to see this sect ridiculed; and his old steward a really fine piece of acting.

Of the music, by Mr. BARNETT, there is some that all will agree in commending. As a whole it wants the charm of novelty: we cannot mention any one piece that bears the true stamp of originality; though we do not mean to say that the composer has, either by design or accident, availed himself of the thoughts of others. There may be a general resemblance to many things, without a plagiarism from any one. Certain phrases and cadences are common property, and he who uses them is not chargeable with the act of borrowing, though he may be denied the merit of invention. However, most of the compositions will, in all likelihood, come before us in another department, when we shall have a fairer and better opportunity of analysing and judging them.

Don Giovanni is getting up here, cast in a manner that has never been equalled on the English stage.

COVENT-GARDEN THEATRE.

On the first of last month, a débutant, Mr. LENNOX, appeared as Artabanes. This gentleman is the same, we believe, who has sung in some few London concerts, during the last two or three seasons, and was a pupil of Sig. De Begnis. He enjoys the advantage of a powerful base voice of considerable compass, and sings in time and tune; but either as singer or actor we cannot venture to say more, judging him from this, his first appearance on the stage, when it is possible that the newness of the situation operated as some check on his powers. Miss SHIRREFF, in Mandane, displayed unequivocal signs of general improvement; and Miss H. CAWSE’s Artaxerxes was, as it always is, without affectation, correct and pleasing.

The ballet of Masaniello has been produced here, with French dancers, and drew some better houses than have been seen lately.

THE MUSIC OF THE PRESENT NUMBER.

THE Overture to Tigrane, a serious opera performed at Berlin in 1799, is, we feel assured, totally unknown in this country. If its orchestral effect is at all equal to what the piano-forte arrangement leads us to expect, it cannot much longer remain a stranger to our concerts and theatres. Clearness and unity of design, and sweetness of melody, are its chief attributes; whether skilful contrivance of the parts and grandeur of effect are to be added to these, we cannot say, not having seen the score, or heard the composition performed by a band. Concerning the author we refer to the memoir in the present Number.

The Terzetto, by Sarti, is, in the original, set to the second verse of the 51st Psalm, ‘Amplius lava me,’—and to these Latin words is published by the Rev. C. J. Latrobe, in his excellent but voluminous and expensive collection of sacred music by foreign composers. Our arrangement is made from the score printed in Shield’s Harmony, a work become very scarce, where it appears to the verses now given; but this is the first time it has been published conjointly with English words and a piano-forte arrangement. The many beauties in this composition do not require to be pointed out.

The Arietta (as the author himself denominates it) by Beethoven is one of the very finest of his vocal productions. In the expression of deep passion it has never been excelled; and now rarely equalled! But it must be sung with the feeling that inspired the composer when he wrote it: coldness or tameness would prove fatal to so highly finished a piece of musical colouring.

This extraordinary composition is yet very little known in this country, and—still stranger to say—not much anywhere.

Palestrina’s name is known to all; his works to very few. Greatly and deservedly as they were esteemed in his day, and for ages after, most of them now seem dry, and, no doubt, are occasionally crude and uninteresting. The present specimen, however, we trust, will not be liable to either charge, except, perhaps, in the case of one or two notes, which, though somewhat harsh, we have not ventured to alter. The present terzetto—the air and harmony of which more resemble the music of recent date than any we ever met with of the same composer—is from a mass printed in two staves in an old German work in our possession. We have expanded it into what is called a vocal score.

Handel’s Suites de Pièces are in few hands. The Chaconne [7], now given—the elegant melody of which, if only heard, can never want admirers—is followed by no less than sixty-two variations in the original work! We have selected a few of those we considered the best, and put the mark 8va alta over two, conceiving that the author might thus have written them, had the instruments in his day furnished the notes.

The Romance and Duet from Fortunatus require no further remark than what appears in our account of that new German Opera. Not having had time to obtain a good and adaptable translation of the original words, we have set others to them, which certainly suit the music.

[Pg 21]

FEBRUARY, 1833.

MEMOIRS OF GARCIA AND RUBINI.

MANUEL DEL POPULO VINCENTE GARCIA was born at Seville the 21st of January, 1775. At six years old he was received into the choir of the cathedral, and commenced his musical studies under the instruction of Don Antonio Ripa and Juan Almarcha. At this time there was no theatre in Seville, and sacred music was in high estimation; the vocal corps belonging to the cathedral was not only strong in number, but contained, also, some distinguished performers, particularly a tenor and a male soprano. Garcia, having a very agreeable voice and extraordinary talents for music, was soon distinguished amongst his compeers, and by the time he was seventeen, his fame not only as a singer, but also as a composer and chef d’orchestre, had spread far beyond the limits of his native city. The manager of the Cadiz Theatre engaged him, and brought him forward in a toccadilla, in which the young debutant sang several pieces of his own composition. Here he obtained considerable reputation as a singer. His voice—a fine tenor—very flexible, and very extensive, particularly in the upper part, was much admired; but his action was so embarrassed and cold, that the most discerning spectator could never have detected in the awkward youth before him even the germ of that dramatic talent which afterwards classed him so high among acting singers. From Cadiz, Garcia proceeded to Madrid, where, arriving during Lent, he appeared in an oratorio, the only species of music allowed to be performed during that season in Spain. His residence in Madrid was of considerable duration; and he there composed several toccadillas.

When Garcia at length quitted Madrid, he proceeded to Malaga, in which city he composed his first opera, entitled El Preso, the libretto of which was borrowed from a French piece called ‘The Prisoner, or the Likeness.’ While he was at Malaga an epidemic fever raged there with such virulence as nearly to depopulate whole districts, but Garcia was fortunate enough to escape its ravages and get back safe to Madrid. On his return to the capital, he brought into fashion a species of operettas, in one or two acts, similar to those which were then in vogue in France; the plots, indeed, were chiefly taken from French pieces. These operas made the round of the Spanish theatres, and were almost all received with great applause. Garcia is one of the few Spanish composers who have written in the style of the national music of the country, which, as is well known, possesses a character entirely distinct from that of either Italy, Germany, or France. Several of his airs became highly popular; one in particular called Lo Cavallo, sung by him in the character of a smuggler, is as well known throughout Spain as Charmante Gabrielle in France, or God save the King in England. Some persons have denied Garcia’s claim to be considered as the composer of this most original melody; it is true the names of those who write popular airs are quickly forgotten, but in this case the fact is of easy proof, for there are many amateurs still living in Madrid who well remember the effect made by the air Yo che soy contrabandista, when Garcia sang it for the first time not thirty years ago.

On the 11th February, 1808, Garcia made his appearance in Paris, selecting for his début the Griselda of Paer, being the first time he had ever performed in an Italian opera. A journalist, whose criticisms carried much weight with them at that time, says of him—‘Don Garcia is a young artist of distinguished talent; his countenance is agreeable and expressive—his delivery correct—his action natural and animated; his voice is sweet-toned, graceful, of very extensive compass and extreme flexibility. It is evident that he is a man of great ability and experience in his art; his singing is rich in ornament, but frequently too much embroidered.’ In point of fact, however, Garcia owed all his talents as a singer to himself alone: he had never really studied it as an art, but had merely listened, imitated, and practised. On the 15th March, 1809, he gave for his benefit a Spanish monologue operetta, called El Poeta Calculista, (the first and only Spanish opera that has ever been performed in Paris,) with such decided success, that it was repeated several times running, until the excessive fatigue of supporting alone a piece in which four compositions out of the seven it comprised, were constantly encored, obliged him to suspend the representations.

Garcia continued in Paris till the commencement of 1811, when he went to Italy, and appeared successively on the theatres of Turin, Naples, and Rome. He was elected an academician of the Philharmonic Society at Bologna, and appointed by Murat principal tenor of his chamber and chapel. It was at this period that he became acquainted with Anzani, one of the most celebrated tenors in Italy, from whose instructions and example he acquired those secrets in the art of singing which were long monopolized by the old Italian masters for their own profit, or that of a few privileged scholars. In 1812 he brought out with great success at the St. Carlo an opera in two acts, imitated from the French, Il Califo di Bagdad. In 1816 Rossini wrote for him the parts of Almaviva in the Barber of Seville and of Otello. The air with variations, now sung as a finale to the Cenerentola, was composed originally for Garcia in Almaviva, and placed at the end of the second act of Il Barbiere, but only sung by him at Rome. In the autumn of the same year he returned to Paris, being engaged by Madame Catalani, at that time directress of the Théâtre Italien, and made his debut on the 17th October in Il Matrimonio Secreto. He afterwards performed in his own opera, Il Califo di Bagdad, in Griselda, Cosi fan tutte, Le Nozze di Figaro, Portogallo’s Semiramide, and several others, with equal distinction as an actor and a singer. By selecting Mad. Cinti to represent the principal female character in the Califf he gave that charming singer, who had hitherto been confined to secondary parts, the first opportunity of displaying her talents in a favourable light. The piece, the actor, and the actress enjoyed a moment of popularity, when all at once Garcia and his Califf disappeared. It was whispered that his chief offence was having called down as much applause in Semiramide, as the Queen of Babylon herself, and so reducing that august princess to the necessity of playing, for several days, the character of La finta Ammalata (the pretended patient). However this may be, Garcia, tired and ashamed of being eternally haggling for sixpences, left Paris and went to London, where he made his début on the 10th March, 1818, in his favourite part of Almaviva,[Pg 22] and remained until the end of the ensuing season, 1819, when he returned to Paris.

It is to Garcia that the Parisian audiences owe their first acquaintance with the music of Rossini; and if the public knew all green-room intrigues that were resorted to, and all the obstacles Garcia had to encounter before he succeeded in having that great composer’s operas performed, its sense of obligation for the eminent services he at length succeeded in rendering them would not be small. In 1817 he had played Lindoro in the Italiana in Algeri, the first opera of Rossini’s ever performed in Paris; but when he wished to bring out the Barber of Seville for his own benefit, the opera was judged unworthy of the capital of France, and the singer forced to select another piece. Better instructed this time, he made the bringing out of Il Barbiere the sine quâ non of his engagement, and thus to his perseverance Paris owes the hearing this masterpiece of the comic opera within three years of its being composed.

The period between the autumn of 1819 and the beginning of 1824, which Garcia spent in Paris, formed the most brilliant portion of his musical career. As an actor and singer he enjoyed the highest popularity, especially in the parts of Almaviva, Otello, and Don Juan. As a composer, he wrote La Mort du Tasse and Florestan for the French opera; Il Fazzoletto for the Théâtre Italien and for the Gymnasium La Meunière; finally, as a professor of singing, he numbered amongst his pupils Adolphe Nourrit, the Countess Merlin, Mad. Favelli, and Mad. Méric Lalande. About this time he was also appointed first tenor of the chamber and chapel to the king. In 1824, Garcia was again engaged for the London opera, and returned to England. It was in London that Garcia completed the education of his gifted daughter, the present Mad. Malibran. In London he also opened an academy for singing. In the autumn of 1825, the Garcias left London; made a tour of the midland and northern parts of England; sang at some concerts and music-meetings at Manchester, Derby, and York; and finally embarked at Liverpool, on an excursion to the western continent.

To recount the whole of Garcia’s adventures in the New World; to lay before the reader the state of music in New York and Mexico at the moment he arrived in those cities; to paint all the difficulties he had to surmount, or speculate on the effect his residence amongst them had upon a population to whom the arts were quite new, would require too much space: a few of the principal events in his active and brilliant career is all we can afford room for. The company with which he crossed the Atlantic consisted of himself and the younger Crivelli, tenors; his son Manuel Garcia, and Angrisani, bassi cantanti; Rosich, buffo caricato; with Mad. Barbiere, Mad. Garcia, and her daughter Marietta, soprani. Il Barbiere, the opera which they chose as their introduction to an American audience, was almost entirely performed by the family party; Garcia playing Almaviva, his daughter Rosina, his son Figaro, and his wife Berta. In the course of the season they successively brought forward Otello, Romeo, Il Turco in Italia, Don Giovanni, Tancredi, La Cenerentola, and two operas of Garcia’s composition, L’Amante Astuto, and La Figlia dell’ Aria,—the latter written expressly for his daughter and Angrisani.

The air of New York did not agree with an Andalusian constitution, and Garcia removed, in search of a more congenial climate, from the United States to Mexico. Instead of finding in the capital of New Spain the repose which he had promised himself, he was soon compelled to sing and compose more than ever. Three Italian operas had been got up with the original words; but the Mexicans, though they had taste enough to relish the music, were not satisfied with performances of which they did not understand a single syllable. Garcia had no resource but to compose Spanish operas, or adapt Spanish words to the Italian: he did both. Amongst the operas written by him for the Mexican theatre, Semiramide and Abufarez may be particularly mentioned; and he adapted Spanish words to his own Amante Astuto, which was performed several nights running. The Mexican company, half native and half foreign, was nothing remarkable before Garcia arrived amongst them; he soon found that the duties of composer, director, chief of the orchestra, singing-master, chorus leader, and even machinist and decorator, must all centre in himself. His indefatigable activity was rewarded with such success, that he often said, ‘I would exhibit my Mexican performers now before a Parisian audience, and they would not be unworthy the honour.’

Notwithstanding the favourable reception he had met with in Mexico, Garcia could not avoid being uneasy at the daily increasing symptoms of animosity between the natives and the Spaniards. Foreseeing a speedy rupture between them, he resolved to return to Europe: he had great difficulty in obtaining passports, but at length succeeded, and set off for Vera Cruz, provided with a guard of soldiers, which, however, proved too weak, or too faithless, to protect him and his goods. At a place called Tepeyagualco, his convoy was attacked by brigands, and himself obliged to lie flat on his face, while his baggage was plundered of 1000 ounces of gold—the savings of his industry and economy. He came off with his life, however, and succeeded in getting once more to Paris, where he determined to dedicate the rest of his days to teaching. He appeared again at the Théâtre Italien, but declined very advantageous offers of an engagement at the Scala, and applied himself with new ardour to the instruction of his pupils [8]. The last, whose education he completed, were Madame Raimbeaux, Mademoiselle Edwige, and Madame Ruiz Garcia. Garcia died on the 9th of June, 1832, after a short illness, which was not at first considered at all dangerous.

To the last moment of his life Garcia was incessantly occupied with the art to which the whole of that life had been dedicated, enjoying a wonderful facility and an activity of mind not less astonishing. He has left behind him an immense number of manuscripts. Besides the operas already mentioned in the course of this narrative, he was the author of numerous others, most of which have not been brought out. The list of such of them as are known to us follows:—Il Lupo d’Ostende, two acts; Acendi (Spanish), two acts; Astuzia e Prudenza, one act, performed in London at the Argyle Rooms; I Banditi, two acts; La Buona Famiglia (words as well as music), by Garcia, one act; Don Chisciotte (Spanish), two acts; La Gioventù d’Enrico Quarto, two acts; El Jetano por Amore and Los Maridos Solteros (Spanish), two acts each; Sophonès (French), the words by M. de Jouy; Le Tre Sultane, two acts; Un Ora di Matrimonio, one act, with both Spanish and Italian words, played in Mexico; Xaira and El Zapatero de Bagdad (Spanish), two acts each; Zemira ed Azor, two acts. The last works of Garcia were five operettas for the chamber, with piano-forte accompaniment, L’Isola Disabitata, Li Cinesi, Un Avertimento[Pg 23] ai Gelosi, I Tre Gobbi, and Il Finto Sordo. Garcia was also the author of a number of less extensive works, both for the voice and for instruments.

For the substance of the foregoing Memoir we are indebted to the Revue Musicale, the editor of which, or the writer of the article in that work, has apparently been somewhat biassed by feelings of personal friendship. He has viewed Garcia both as an actor and as a composer, with partial eyes. In the former capacity he was anything but refined; and in the latter, except a few trifles of a purely Spanish kind, whatever he may have produced is now utterly forgotten, and has not the slightest chance of ever being rescued from oblivion. He was to a certain extent a good musician, and had he not been so much addicted to what are, by abuse of language, called ornaments, would have deserved all the praise bestowed on him as a singer, for he possessed great energy, a full knowledge of the score, and at one time a rich, beautiful voice, of very considerable compass.

RUBINI.

GIAN BATTISTA RUBINI was born at Romano, a small town in the province of Bergamo, on the 7th of April, 1795. He is the youngest of three brothers, all tenor singers of considerable celebrity; the eldest, Jeremiah, has quitted the stage from inability to continue the fatigues of a theatrical life: the second, Giacomo is first tenor in the chapel of the king of Saxony, and is besides a stage singer of great talent. Their father was a small music-master, played the horn in the theatre, and to his other occupations added that of being a getter-up of fêtes and musical performances in the neighbouring churches and chapels. He had a complete corps of singers and players, with a collection of masses, vespers, motets, and litanies, all at the service of any chapter or convent that chose to hire them. Rubini, the father, was entrepreneur, and blew the horn—his three sons, as they grew up, were enlisted in his vocal corps; but as their voices were not always required, and he neither chose nor could afford to let them be idle, Jeremiah was taught to play the organ, and Giacomo and Gian Battista the violin, by which means his whole family quartet was in constant requisition.

At eight years of age the little Rubini had already enchanted divers convents of nuns by his performance of the Salve Regina, perched up on a high stool, which was necessary to elevate his head to the level of the violins. At ten, his father, diffident of his own powers as a singing-master, placed the child under one Don Santo, priest and organist of Adro, a town in the province of Brescia, who, at the expiration of a year, sent him back to his parents with the consoling assurance, that nothing would ever make him a singer, so they had better look about for some other trade or profession to bring him up to. The father, who thought he knew better the boy’s capacity, took him again under his own care, and succeeded so well, that he not long after invited the same Don Santo to hear a mass, in which his rejected scholar sang the Qui tollis in such a style, that the parent enjoyed at once the pleasure and revenge of forcing the old organist to admit that he was mistaken in the judgment he had so hastily pronounced.

In his twelfth year, Gian Battista made his début on the boards of the Romano Theatre, in a female character, and for his own benefit: his receipts, both in applause and money, were gratifying, and he soon after went to Bergamo, where he was engaged to play the violin between the acts of the comedy, and to sing in the chorus during the opera season. While here, a petite comédie was put in rehearsal, in one scene of which was a cavatina—but, alas! no one in the troop could sing: somebody suggested Rubini, and at length the manager offered him an extra five-franc piece to study and sing this troublesome air. The terms were accepted, and young Gian Battista’s performance created a complete furore in Bergamo. The song was composed by Lamberti; and Rubini is still fond of singing it occasionally, to remind him of his first success.

For some time after this, however, Rubini appears to have led the precarious and miserable life of a stroller; but at length, being in Milan in the year 1814, he met with a Marquis Belcredi, one of those numerous Italian counts, marquesses, &c., who follow sometimes the honourable occupation of engagement-brokers for the theatres, and not unfrequently even less reputable means of making money. By Belcredi he was offered an engagement, for the autumn season, of four months at Pavia, at the liberal salary of eleven crowns, or about 1l. 18s. a month. Rubini’s necessities would not allow him to refuse this offer: he went to Pavia, and distinguished himself so much that his success made a sensation even at Milan. Belcredi engaged him immediately for the carnival of 1815 at 1000 francs the season; and sent him to perform at Brescia, whence he transferred him for the spring season to the theatre of St. Moire, at Venice, at a salary of 2000 francs. Here he had an opportunity of singing with the bass Zamboni, and the contralto Mad. Marcolini, for whom Rossini wrote his Italiana in Algeri. Rubini next entered into an engagement with Barbaja, director of the theatres of Naples for six months, at eighty-four ducats (about 16l.) per month, with a clause providing that, at the end of the first three months, the engagement should be renewable for a year at the increased salary of 100 ducats a month. He sang at the Teatro dei Fiorentini with Pellegrini, and was rising in public favour, when Barbaja, instead of renewing his engagement at the higher salary, proposed to dismiss him entirely, and only consented to retain him on condition of his terms being lowered to seventy ducats. Rubini had many cogent reasons which made him anxious to remain at Naples: he naturally desired to improve the hold which he had already upon the public favour there; he found himself in the society of the celebrated tenor, Nozzari, a countryman of his own, from whom he received most valuable hints and lessons; and whose example, as Rubini carefully watched and imitated him, both as an actor and singer, was nearly, if not quite, as valuable as his instructions. He therefore accepted Barbaja’s terms,—saying, however, at the same time, with the consciousness of talent, ‘You take advantage of my present situation, but will have to pay for it before long.’

The getting up of La Gazza Ladra, in the carnival of 1819, is still remembered among the fasti of Roman theatricals. The duet between Giannetto and Ninetta, in the prison scene, ‘forse un di conoscerai,’ was constantly encored; and the Roman ladies, during the whole carnival, carried about with them to the balls puppets dressed in the costume of their favourite actor and actress.

From Rome, Rubini, still under engagements to Barbaja, returned to Naples, and thence crossed over to Palermo, where he sang with Donzelli and Lablache. His début in Sicily was in an opera of Mosca, which would never have survived the first night’s performance, but[Pg 24] for a ruse of the singer. From the very beginning the poor maestro was hissed: piece after piece shared the same fate, until the principal tenor began his cavatina; the adagio, although it escaped hisses, made little impression on the audience; but the allegretto movement which followed called forth rounds of enthusiastic applause, which Mosca was only too happy to acknowledge and appropriate by repeated bows. The fact was, that Rubini, finding Mosca’s adagio passable, but his allegretto worse than bad, had insisted on substituting the similar movement from the air of Orestes, in Rossini’s Ermione, ‘Ah come mai nascondere.’ For ten days the deception remained undiscovered; and the Palermitans could hardly bestow praises enough on the author of so heavenly an allegretto. But, alas! on the eleventh a printed copy of the air arrived from Naples, and stripped poor Mosca of his borrowed plumes.

While at Palermo, Rubini was the hero, and narrowly escaped being the victim of an adventure as romantic, but fortunately for him not so fatal, as that of Stradella. On his arrival in Sicily he waited on a certain princess, to whom he had letters of recommendation, and was received with the kindness which talents and even his personal appearance seemed to deserve. In the evening, on coming before the audience, Rubini made a respectful inclination towards his fair patroness, and appeared to address towards her box his most touching passages and most brilliant roulades. In Sicily jealousy is as instantaneous as lightning, and vengeance follows it as rapidly as thunder the flash. The prince, who did not understand the musical homage paid to his wife, forthwith employed two bravoes to poignard the presumptuous primo tenore, and dispose of his body as usual in such cases—that is, by throwing it into the sea. Accordingly, on quitting the theatre, he was suddenly sprung upon by two men, who seized his arms, muffled his head in a cloak, and began to drag him towards the sea-shore. He had no power to call out, and if he had had, nobody attends to such calls in Sicily: in fact he had already made up his mind that his last cavatina in this world was sung, when, luckily for him, one of the bravi recognized his victim. He was an amateur, to whom Rubini had often given orders for the opera. So soon as he was aware who it was that he had engaged to exercise his profession upon, his heart failed him; and, instead of using his stiletto, he acquainted Rubini with the offence he had committed, set him at liberty, and recommended him to escape from Sicily without loss of time. On his return to Naples, Rubini heard, for the first time, Madlle. Chaumel, who was passing through that city in her way to fulfil an engagement at Palermo, and was so charmed with her voice and style, that he recommended Barbaja to retain her at Naples. Barbaja took the advice—Mad. Chaumel shone during two or three seasons a bright star at the St. Carlo and the Fondo; and the lady and Rubini so often enacted the lover and mistress, that at length they realised the illusion of the theatre, and became man and wife.

In 1824 Barbaja was removed from the management of the Neapolitan theatres; whereupon he migrated to Vienna, taking with him the whole corps of singers who were under engagements to him,—and amongst them Rubini and his wife. The company assembled in the Austrian capital, on this occasion, was perhaps the most numerous and splendid that was ever united at one time in one city. The prime donne amounted to nine, most of whom had already established a high reputation, and of whom the remainder nearly all have now attained the first rank in their profession; Sontag, Fodor, Mombelli, Rubini, Eckerlin, Ungher, Giudetta Grisi, Dardanelli, and Grimbaum. The tenors were David, Rubini, Donzelli, and Cicimira; and the basses, Lablache, Ambrogi, Botticelli, and Bassi. At the end of this brilliant season Rubini returned to Naples; and, in the autumn of 1825, made his first appearance at Paris, where his reception was perhaps more enthusiastic than in any other city he had visited. His performance in the Cenerentola, La Donna del Lago, Otello, and La Gazza Ladra, established him at once, in the judgment of the Parisian dilettanti, at the very summit of his profession, and gained him the appellation of Roi des tenors.

From Paris Rubini returned to Naples, and thence went to Milan, where the then new composer, Bellini, wrote the fine part of Gualtero in Il Pirata, especially for him. In the following year, 1827, he appeared in two new operas, Donizetti’s Anna Bolena, and the Sonnambula of Bellini. Both these composers, in writing for Rubini, adopted a style which had been so long neglected that it appeared new. Instead of florid compositions, loaded with roulades and divisions, they limited themselves, in the airs and duets intended for him, to simple, graceful, and pathetic melodies, calculated to display to the greatest advantage his elocutionary and impassioned style [9].

In the summer of 1831, Rubini, together with his wife, appeared at the London Opera: he has since that withdrawn Mad. Rubini entirely from the stage, finding his own earnings, since he has been out of Barbaja’s clutches, quite sufficient for their joint support. For fifteen years he was at the command of this leviathan of the opera, who disposed of his voice and talents, and sent him to this capital or the other, according as it suited his own interest or combinations, and receiving for his exertions enormous sums, of which by far the greater part went to enrich the entrepreneur, not the singer. Before he was emancipated from Barbaja, the salary of himself and his wife was only (!) 60,000 francs (2500l.); the first year of his emancipation, his earnings amounted to 125,000 francs, upwards of 5200l. (!!)

In the autumn of 1831, Rubini again visited Paris, where he was received with renewed enthusiasm, and in which city he is still performing with undiminished popularity.

[Pg 25]

CHARACTERISTIC TRAITS AND ANECDOTES OF BEETHOVEN.

[IN our last number (page 6), we inserted an account, from the Leipzig Musical Gazette, of Beethoven’s Studien in Generalbasse, &c.—a work recently published in Vienna,—and have since received the volume, which comprises the studies, with numerous and most valuable remarks by Beethoven, and many of his fragments, or unconnected observations, on musical subjects, chiefly on recitative, in 352 octavo pages. These are followed by thirteen pages of biography,—in which nothing is added to what has already appeared in our work,—and the following anecdotes, together with other matter, of which we shall avail ourselves in the two or three succeeding numbers. In our next will appear his chapter on Canon, a species of composition which he seems to have estimated according to its real value, therefore has dwelt most on the canon in unison,—the only rational kind,—of which he gives short, simple, and very pleasing examples, the most interesting whereof we shall reprint.]

BEETHOVEN should by no means be offered as a model for directors of orchestras. The performers under him were obliged cautiously to avoid being led astray by their conductor, who thought only of his composition, and constantly laboured to depict the exact expression required, by the most varied gesticulations. Thus, when the passage was loud he often beat time downwards, when his hand should have been up. A diminuendo he was in the habit of marking by contracting his person, making himself smaller and smaller; and when a pianissimo occurred, he seemed to slink, if the word is allowable, beneath the conductor’s desk. As the sounds increased in loudness, so did he gradually rise up, as if out of an abyss; and when the full force of the united instruments broke upon the ear, raising himself on tiptoe, he looked of gigantic stature, and, with both his arms floating about in undulating motion, seemed as if he would soar to the clouds. He was all motion, no part of him remained inactive, and the entire man could only be compared to a perpetuum mobile.

When his deafness increased, it was productive of frequent mischief, for the Maestro’s hand went up when it ought to have descended. He contrived to set himself right again most easily in the piano passages, but of the most powerful fortes he could make nothing. In many cases, however, his eye afforded him assistance, for he watched the movements of the bows, and thus discovering what was going on, soon corrected himself.

Among his favourite dishes was a bread soup, made in the manner of pap, in which he indulged every Thursday. To compose this, ten eggs were set before him, which he tried before mixing them with the other ingredients, and if it unfortunately happened that any of them were musty, a grand scene ensued; the offending cook was summoned to the presence by a tremendous ejaculation. She, however, well knowing what might occur, took care cautiously to stand on the threshold of the door, prepared to make a precipitate retreat; but the moment she made her appearance the attack commenced, and the broken eggs, like bombs from well-directed batteries, flew about her ears, their yellow and white contents covering her with viscous streams.

He never walked in the streets without a note-book, in which he entered whatever occurred to him at the moment. If the conversation accidentally turned upon this habit, he parodied the words of Joan of Arc,—“Without my colours I must not come,” and with undeviating firmness observed the self-imposed law. But his regularity was confined to this; the most exquisite confusion reigned in his house:—Books and music were scattered in all directions; here the residue of a cold luncheon—there some full, some half-emptied, bottles. On the desk the hasty sketch of a new quartett; in another corner the remains of breakfast. On the piano-forte, the scribbled hints for a noble symphony, yet little more than in embryo—hard by, a proof-sheet, waiting to be returned. Letters from friends, and on business, spread all over the floor. Between the windows a goodly Stracchino cheese: on one side of it ample vestiges of a genuine Verona Salami; and, notwithstanding all this confusion, he constantly eulogised, with Ciceronian eloquence, his own neatness and love of order! When, however, for whole hours, days, and often weeks, something mislaid was looked for, and all search had proved fruitless, then he changed his tone, and bitterly complained that everything was done to annoy him. But the servants knew the natural goodness of their master; they suffered him to rave, and in a few minutes all was forgotten,—till a similar occasion renewed the scene.

He himself often joked about his almost illegible characters, and used to add, by way of excuse, ‘Life is too short to paint letters or notes, and fairer notes would hardly rescue me from poverty,’ (punning upon the words noten and nöthen.)

The whole of the morning, from the earliest dawn till dinner time, was employed in the mechanical work of writing: the rest of the day was devoted to thought, and the arrangement of his ideas. Scarcely had the last morsel been swallowed, than, if he had no more distant excursion in view, he took his usual walk; that is to say, he ran in double quick time, as if hunted by bailiffs, twice round the town. Whether it rained, or snowed, or hailed, or the thermometer stood an inch or two below freezing point—whether Boreas blew a chilling blast from the Bohemian mountains,—or whether the thunder roared, and forked lightnings played,—what signified it to the enthusiastic lover of his art, in whose genial mind, perhaps, were budding, at the very moment when the elements were in fiercest conflict, the harmonious feelings of a balmy spring?

Beethoven permitted himself but rarely, even among his intimate friends, to express his opinions of contemporary artists. His own words, however, will attest what he thought of the four following masters:—

During his last illness it was found necessary to draw off his water, and during the operation, he observed—‘Rather water from my body than from my pen.’

He received a flattering invitation from a musical society to compose a cantata, the request being accompanied by a portion of the sum to be paid for the work. Beethoven accepted it. For a very long time, however, nothing more was heard of him. Then came, couched in the most delicate terms, a letter to remind him of his engagement, signed, in consequence of the absence of the president of the society, by his locum tenens (Stellvertreter). The reply was,—‘I have not forgotten; such things must not be precipitated; I shall keep my word.—Beethoven, M.P.[12] (Selbstvertreter), se ipsum tenens.’

If he happened not to be in the humour, it required pressing and reiterated entreaties to get him to the piano-forte. Before he began in earnest, he used sportively to strike the keys with the palm of his hand, draw his finger along the key-board, from one end to the other, and play all manner of gambols, at which he laughed heartily.

During his summer residence at the seat of a Mecænas, he was on one occasion so rudely pressed to exhibit before the stranger guests, that he became quite enraged, and obstinately refused a compliance which he considered would be an act of servility. A threat that he should be confined a prisoner to the house,—uttered, no doubt, without the slightest idea of its being carried into execution,—so provoked Beethoven, that, night time as it was, he ran off, upwards of three miles, to the next town, and thence, travelling post, hurried to Vienna. As some satisfaction for the indignity offered him, the bust of his patron became an expiatory sacrifice. It fell, shattered into fragments, from the bookcase to the floor.

After he had become deaf, Beethoven spoke little, but wrote his observations on his tablet. ‘What is Rossini?’ he was once asked. He wrote, in answer, ‘A good scene-painter.’

SONG OF THE SWAN.

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

The passage in last month’s ‘Diary of a Dilettante,’ relative to the assertion of an eminent Swedish naturalist, that the swan, instead of being a silent bird, has a peculiar and musical note of its own, recalls to mind a discussion on which critics and commentators, as well as naturalists, have spent much time and ink without effect. The late Mr. Joddrell, in his elaborate illustrations of Euripides, dedicated thirty-four octavo pages to the collecting, classing, and balancing all the authorities pro and con, but concludes without arriving a whit nearer certainty than when he began. The modern evidence he thus sums up:

I quote the above from a letter in the Gentleman’s Magazine for Sept. 1782, written by a correspondent who advocates decidedly the negative side of the question, appeals to the ancients for further support, and finally proposes that the celebrated John Hunter should set the point at rest, by dissecting a swan, and ascertaining whether its throat contained organs competent to the formation of musical sound or no. This letter produced an answer in the following November, which will serve to shew that Sweden and Iceland are, at all events, not the only countries frequented by the swan in a state of nature, in which the inhabitants firmly believe in its musical powers. After a short introductory paragraph, the writer says,—

Here the correspondence ended without reply or rejoinder. For my own part, it would be errant presumption to venture an opinion on a point already discussed by so many learned men, particularly as I have no fact within my own knowledge to found even an argument upon; but I cannot, nevertheless, help thinking that the evidence is in favour of the affirmative. Perhaps in its wide circulation your miscellany may fall into the hands of some person competent, from his own knowledge, to confirm or contradict the statement above quoted; though it is far from improbable, that within the last fifty years the march of civilization may have driven the wild birds from their haunts [13], and that tradition of their vocal powers alone remains, unless, indeed, they were to be followed to the distant Iona.—The air is not to be found among Dr. Crotch’s specimens of Scottish music.

ON THE STATE OF OUR THEATRES, CHIEFLY AS RELATES TO THE OPERA DEPARTMENT.

THAT we are on the eve of great changes in our patent winter theatres is a fact now too obvious to admit of doubt. That their size must be diminished if it be intended any longer to represent what is called ‘the legitimate drama,’ and that the prices of admission must be reduced if the lessees do not mean to be ruined, are equally clear. It is also past dispute that very considerable alterations must be made in the nature of the performances, as well as in the general system of management; and that not only in those vast establishments, but in all other theatres, the rights and emoluments of authors and composers must be so secured and augmented as to induce men of superior intellect and attainments to devote their labours to the service of the public.

In a work like ours, it would be exceeding the prescribed bounds to enter on the subject of the drama generally, otherwise we would endeavour to show that the taste for tragedy, except of the splendid historic kind, is rapidly declining; that though the public will occasionally crowd to hear the fresh production of some celebrated writer, or to see a new and talented or much-extolled performer, yet, as they are beginning to discover that real scenes of misery, enough for all the possible purposes of excitement, are to be witnessed in great abundance, they will not much longer seek those that are fictitious. The salutary truth is now opening to their view, that relief from painful or laborious thought,—or, in a word, amusement, is, in most instances, the only rational object of a visit to the theatre, and that this cannot be extracted from a Jane Shore dying in the streets from inanition, or a Beverley expiring in the arms of his wife from the effects of poison.

Comedy amuses while it instructs; but this admits of very little increase of the voice beyond its ordinary speaking powers; and who can make himself heard in our vast theatres without exerting his lungs in a manner quite destructive of the ease so indispensably necessary to the finished performance of genteel comedy?—Opera, melodrama, and dancing remain, to which Covent Garden seems already driven; and Drury Lane is on the point of following the example of the rival patent temple of legitimate drama!

Opera will most likely take the lead decidedly, and when we shall have selected everything good from foreign repertories, which are almost exhausted, what will be our resource? Are we always to look abroad for fresh supplies, or to trust for assistance to our native composers? Let us hope that a country which has given birth to a Lock, a Purcell, an Arne, a Linley, a Shield, an Arnold, and a Storace, will yet produce successors to them, who may become their rivals in melody, and, profiting by the improvements for which we are indebted to the German school, surpass them in harmony and in richness of accompaniment. In concerted music they could hardly fail to excel their predecessors, at least those of the last century, who rarely turned their thoughts to it, the stage during their time affording no means of executing such compositions in a manner at all likely to do them justice.

Let it not be supposed that we are overlooking, or intentionally passing by unregarded, the merits of Mr. Bishop. He has supplied our theatres, principally Covent Garden, with much that will transmit his name to posterity; and had he continued to write in the style which he at[Pg 28] first adopted—an improved English style—he might have established a school, the foundation of which was well laid by Arne, nearly a hundred years ago; but, allured by the applause bestowed on Mozart, Rossini, and Weber, he became an imitator, since when his success has not been equal to that which attended his former efforts; and latterly almost everything he has produced for the stage has failed; owing in part, no doubt, to his music having been united to dramas which possessed little, if any, claim to public favour. But he has plenty of time before him, and as we have been among the number of his warm admirers, so we shall be the first to hail his return to a path which led to fame and to profit.

Formerly the copyright of a successful opera would sell for three, four, or five hundred guineas; nay, a thousand, and even twelve hundred, has been the price demanded and paid. But now no publisher will buy an entire work; for a popular song or two out of it, or perhaps a duet, he will offer a sum, not enough, however, to remunerate the composer for the labour of a single week, and the theatres pay him nothing, be his success what it may. The managers find that they are conferring a favour by accepting the music of an opera, and plenty of composers, or pseudo-composers, press forward to be obliged. The consequence of this is so apparent to all, that we may be spared the ungracious and disagreeable task of pointing it out.

To what, then, is the present inferiority of most of our dramatic composers to be imputed?—Is the want of encouragement a cause or an effect?—Certain it is, that what is called the fashionable world will hardly listen to the music of an English composer, while almost any trash of a foreigner, especially if an Italian, (for even Germans are not in very good odour with them,) is received with favour. But the people of fashion do not now carry their influence into the English theatres: some other reason, therefore, must be assigned for the preference given to music by continental composers, and we fear that its superiority is the real cause. Hence springs another question,—from what does this superiority arise? Our belief is, that it is chiefly owing to difference in education. The English composer is commonly not so well instructed, either professionally or otherwise, as the German or French one; he is neither so well grounded in his own art, nor is his mind equally enlarged by the acquisition of other knowledge: he too frequently knows nothing but music, and that often rather imperfectly, because he has not been enabled to study it systematically, and because no one art can be thoroughly understood without the aid of that collateral knowledge which education supplies, but which he has not had any opportunity of acquiring. Another cause is, the necessity he is under of giving lessons,—of travelling from school to school, from house to house, teaching, in three cases out of four, music of the most trivial kind, not from choice, but because such is suited to the taste of the great majority of learners. Hence his own mind is occupied with what must weaken it, and even his taste in the art is in danger of becoming depraved by the examples of what is feeble, if not actually bad, that are hourly before him.

There are, no doubt, exceptions to this rule, and what we have advanced on the subject is to be understood as applying generally, and not pointed at any individual whatever, living or dead. That education, by which we mean the expansion of mind which results from it, is as essential to the composer as to the professor of any other liberal art or science, will not be disputed by those who give the matter anything like serious consideration: that in most cases the English composer has not the advantages which are to be derived from it, few will be hardy enough to deny. A still smaller number, we believe, will venture to question the fact, that the daily occupation of teaching children to play, must deaden the imaginative faculty, and consequently very much tend to disqualify for all the higher branches of composition.

We shall close this article by an authorised account of the ‘Receipts of Covent Garden Theatre, in each season, from 1809–10, to 1831–32,’ as given in the Appendix to the Parliamentary Report on Dramatic Literature.

The following are the ‘Comparative Dimensions of various Theatres, furnished by Samuel Beazley, architect,’ also printed in the Appendix above-mentioned.

[Pg 29]

ON SOME COMPOSITIONS OF HANDEL.

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

I read the communication of your correspondent, Honorius, in your number for December, 1832, with considerable interest, as it referred to a subject which I had long desired to see touched upon—the faults of the great Handel. There are, however, one or two points in his letter upon which I beg leave to offer a few observations. Your correspondent treats as a fallacy the first of Dr. Brown’s objections, which imputes to Handel ‘too much musical division upon single syllables, to the neglect of the true sense and meaning of the song.’ I must say, that I think there are not a few instances in Handel which directly corroborate this charge. In the song in Saul, ‘O Lord, whose mercies numberless,’ we have the word ‘fail’ in the first verse, and ‘soul’ in the second, most unnaturally tortured: the singer has, positively, two or three rests placed in the midst of his laborious enunciation of these words, in order to allow him to take breath between; in consequence whereof, the continuity of the air is broken, and the close of the song materially injured in effect. How can it possibly be said that such divisions ‘increase the meaning of the words on which they are employed?’ In the duet, ‘Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness,’ there are again instances of words most unpleasingly drawled out into long uninteresting passages; one part imitating the other, almost to the entire exclusion of meaning and expression.

Upon the second charge I have nothing to say; but surely the instance in the third movement of the Dettingen Te Deum is almost ludicrously gross.

The latter part of the third charge I admit, as exposing what I have always considered as the most glaring defect of Handel’s style. Almost every air has, first, its allotted number of bars in the major key, then its quantum in the minor, and then returns to the major with the most undeviating and uncompromising regularity. Take, for instance, the well-known song, ‘Let the bright Seraphim.’ Why should ‘the cherubic host’ be forced to ‘strike their immortal harps’ in the minor key, whilst their brethren, the seraphim, are allowed ‘to blow their trumpets’ in the major? Why should there be any minor at all, unless interwoven naturally in the principal movement of the song? Surely those who arrogate to Handel the praise of having deviated from the bad customs of his age, and formed a new style of his own, must allow, that in this most important particular he was as faulty as any of his predecessors. And this, I rejoice to see, your correspondent concedes without a word of defence. Let any unprejudiced person compare those songs where the minor movement and Da Capo are introduced, with those in which they are omitted, and he will at once perceive the superiority of the latter. But, ‘O, what art can teach,’ ‘Pious orgies,’ and ‘But thou didst not leave,’ in the Messiah, are as chaste and beautiful compositions as have ever existed; and it is upon such songs as these, and upon his magnificent chorusses that, in my opinion, the true glory of Handel rests.

There is also, I think, another general defect in Handel’s writings, not adverted to in your correspondent’s letter; which is, a constant sacrifice of harmony to melody. Allow him the praise of melody; but surely his harmony is deficient in richness, depth, and grandeur. Where do we find anything in Handel at all equal to ‘The Heavens are telling,’ in Haydn’s Creation? Examples might also be adduced from Handel, where the harmony and melody are almost equally neglected—as the duet, ‘Joys in gentle train;’ the air of which, if we can call it an air, is as tame and meagre as we can well conceive possible. With many apologies for this long letter, which you will oblige me by inserting in the Harmonicon,

GRESHAM PRIZE MEDAL FOR 1832.

THE gold medal, for the best original composition in sacred vocal music, has been adjudged to Mr. Kellow John Pye, of Exeter [14]. Dr. Crotch, Professor of Music in the University of Oxford, R. J. S. Stevens, Esq., Professor of Music in Gresham College, and L. Horsley, Esq., Mus. Bac., were the umpires by whom the prize was awarded.

The composition, an anthem for five voices, in the true cathedral style, will be performed at the commemoration of Sir Thomas Gresham in the ensuing spring.

[Pg 30]

THE MANCHESTER GENTLEMEN’S GLEE CLUB.

PRIZE GLEES for 1832.

THIS club, in furtherance of the purpose for which it was established—the cultivation of the glee—gives annually prizes for the best serious and the best cheerful glee. The prizes offered last year to be decided this, were ten pounds each, and have just been awarded.

There were forty-six candidate compositions—twenty-five serious, and twenty-one cheerful—written by twenty-nine different composers, including many of the most distinguished composers of this kind of music in the kingdom. Twenty-four of the glees were sent in by authors residing in London, all of whom, with an exception or two, are eminent in the profession. Seven came from Manchester gentlemen; the remainder from Liverpool, Edinburgh, Glasgow, York, Bristol, Hull, and Plymouth.

The productions which this competition—unparalleled, we believe, for the extent and variety of the compositions—furnished, were many of them of a high order: the serious glees were particularly excellent, a large proportion of them being, in style and merit, beyond the average of such as are considered established works. The whole collection exhibited a gratifying proof that this peculiarly English branch of musical science is extensively and successfully cultivated.

All the glees were, by means of frequent rehearsals, well executed by the singers. They were sung before the committee appointed to award the prizes at five successive meetings, especially held for the purpose; the last of which took place on Monday, the 21st of January, when, on opening the sealed packets containing the names and mottos of the respective authors, it appeared that the prize for the serious glee had been adjudged to Mr. Henry R. Bishop, for a four-voice glee, beginning ‘Where shall we make her grave?’ and that for the cheerful glee, by Mr. Vincent Novello, a glee also for four voices, to original words, commencing “Old May morning.”

THE French school of music, and indeed the lovers of the art everywhere, have just sustained a great loss by the death of M. HEROLD. He fell a victim to a pulmonary complaint with which he had been for some time afflicted, and which has carried him off before he had completed his fortieth year. His death is an almost irreparable loss to the French school of music, as he almost alone, among the operatic composers of the present day, had shown a genius worthy to compete with those great German masters whom he had made the idols of his adoration. He was a pupil of the Conservatoire, where he obtained the grand prize of composition, and was sent to complete his studies at Rome at the expense of Government. His opera Marie first made his name popular, and shortly afterwards Zampa, particularly the finale of the first act, secured to him a more solid and imperishable renown. His last work, Pré aux clercs, is now in the zenith of its popularity. It is said that the agitation which he felt in consequence of the suspension of the performances of that opera after its first representation, in consequence of the refusal of Madame Casimir to sing, tended to hasten his end. The managers of the Opera Comique, as soon as they learnt the fatal event, announced that the theatre would be shut for one night.

SIGNOR NOZZARI, the celebrated tenor singer, died at Naples, the beginning of last month. He was born in 1775, and studied under the famous David, who was in England some forty years ago. Nozzari first appeared at Milan, and in 1802 and 1807 sang at the Opera Buffa in Paris. He afterwards went to Naples, where at the theatre San Carlos, he continued to perform till bad health much weakened his vocal powers, and finally compelled him to quit public life. He has left a fortune of above 100,000 dollars.

Early in last month, SIGNOR GIUSEPPE DEVILLE, who for many years had been a useful performer at the King’s Theatre, was found dead in his chamber, owing, it appeared upon examination, to apoplexy. He first arrived in this country in 1816; afterwards was engaged at the Théâtre Italien in Paris; then went to St. Petersburg, where he sang during three or four seasons at the Italian Opera in that city, and subsequently returned and settled in London. Though never much distinguished as a singer, Signor Deville was highly valued for the regularity and zeal with which he performed his professional duties; while his high sense of honour, his generous nature, and the benevolence of his disposition, made him respected by all to whom he was known, and loved by the few with whom he lived on terms of intimacy. The newspapers have represented that he died in the possession of a large sum of money, but erroneously: though not expensive in himself, he was too liberal-minded, too kind to such of his countrymen as needed assistance, to be able to save much of his income. In fact when his funeral and other expenses are defrayed, very little will be left to transmit to his nearest of kin, who are residing in Italy.

[Pg 31]

REVIEW OF NEW MUSIC.

EIGHT SONGS, by BARRY CORNWALL and the CHEVALIER NEUKOMM. (Cramer, Addison, and Beale.)

OUR pages during the last two years will attest how often and how successfully the poet who writes under the above name, and the musician who composes in his own, have combined their talents: ‘The Sea,’ and ‘David’s Lament for Absalom,’ are sufficient, had those authors produced nothing else in union, to float them together down the stream of time, and will assist in proving that the age which certainly brought forth a good deal of trash,—as all ages have done, and will continue to do,—also gave birth to what is, without other evidence, quite sufficient to rescue it from a sweeping charge of false taste and inability. Those canzonets, difficult as they are to ordinary amateurs, are now in almost every house where a musical instrument is to be found, and are sung, especially the first, by all who are blessed with a voice, and by some who possess scarcely any at all.

Barry Cornwall, the pseudonyme adopted by one of the most distinguished of the really good lyric poets of the day, last year published a delightful little volume of ‘English Songs, and other small Poems,’ a fact so well known in the world of literature and taste, that we should not have repeated it here, but for the purpose of showing the connexion of that work with the present. The Chevalier Neukomm had set some of the songs before they appeared in print; and the eight now before us are among the hundred and seventy, or thereabouts, contained in the volume mentioned.

Great success naturally leads to further efforts, and the applause which attended the two songs above-named, has tempted the composer to write perhaps rather too fast. The most fertile fancy, like the richest soil, must be allowed time to recruit: the mind that creates needs fallows as much as the earth which produces. A want of a little of this restorative appears in the songs now under notice. There is no absence of exertion,—certainly no want of whatever science or labour can yield; but we do not meet with those evidences of the inventive faculty that are so strong in the compositions to which we have alluded. We know full well that he who always expects works of equal value from the same pen must infallibly be disappointed, and slightly touch upon a comparison only in order to make our opinion more accurately understood by our readers.

The first of the set, ‘The happy hours,’ is in two movements; the last partly in three-eight time, and partly in six-eight, is rather common. At page 3, however, is a redeeming modulation from C to A flat

The second, ‘Hide me, O twilight air!’ is a clever composition, the concluding page exceedingly effective, and the poet’s general meaning is well expressed; but in the setting of particular words, the foreigner, the stranger to the niceties of our accent, is very visible. The style of the early part of the seventeenth century is here so ably imitated by the poet, that we must beg leave to lay his verses before our readers:—

The ‘Serenade’ is too long and laboured for an evensong in the open air; and the sameness of the accompaniment, running on in one unvarying stream through three verses, becomes at last rather fatiguing.

The fourth, ‘The Night,’ opens with a sweet and gentle melody; the changes of time, however, are too frequent for a song, though, as well as the declamatory parts, they would be proper enough in a cantata. The whole of this appears the result of study. In truth the words are difficult to set.

No. 5, ‘The Evening Star,’ presents no feature at all remarkable. The accentuation of this is free from all reproach.

The sixth, ‘My Sword,’ is a fine, spirited, martial air, the accompaniments in excellent keeping, and the whole characteristic and exciting.

‘The Exile,’ in C minor, the seventh of the set, is deeply pathetic: a well-imagined andantino in F comes in beautifully, expressing a gleam of future hope; but this is checked again by reflection; and the last part, ‘Farewell to old England’ is affectingly uttered in the mournful tones of the minor key.

The eighth, ‘Oh, pleasant is the fisher’s life,’ does not conclude the volume in a very brilliant manner; the phrases and cadences offer nothing new, and no part of the song is likely to make any impression on the hearer, whether he belong to the learned or unlearned class of auditors.

This volume is much increased in value by portraits of the poet and composer, drawn by Wivell and engraved by Holt. They are admirable likenesses, and executed in a superior manner. How far preferable are such additions to a work, to those fancy things miscalled embellishments, which we rejoice to find are now pretty generally discarded in musical publications. Portraits, if at all faithful resemblances, are always interesting, and gratify a very natural curiosity; while imaginary scenes and emblematical designs are most commonly destitute of any charm, being too often mean in conception and faulty in execution.

PIANO-FORTE.

GRAND EXERCICE D’OCTAVES dans tous les tons, majeur et mineur composée par CHARLES CZERNY, Op. 152. (Wessel and Co.)

WERE an inhabitant of another sphere—of one of those worlds which many folks think made only for our amuse[Pg 32]ment, for us to spy at through a telescope—to be shown this grand exercise, he would straightway and naturally conclude that all those belonging to the planet Earth, who ‘handle’ the piano-forte, must be under the immediate influence of their own satellite:—‘For who,’ he would ask, ‘but moon-struck people would submit to a piece sixteen pages long, consisting of nought else, from beginning to end, but semiquavers running in octaves without the slightest break or intermission, without air, or rhythm, or any reasonable object, till one solitary chord ends the mad ramble?’ And this is no exaggerated account of the ‘grand’ composition on our desk, strange and almost incredible as it may appear.

It is to be presumed that a nondescript of the present kind would not have been published unless there had been a chance, amounting almost to a certainty, of finding purchasers for it; and we can only say, that if there are many to waste their money, and what is worse their time, upon such a matchless piece of absurdity, good taste in music, and the common sense of its votaries, are in a more declining state than even the former productions of this composer, and others of the same school, have led us to suppose.

KUHLAU should ‘have died hereafter.’ Suddenly his sun set before its expected time. Nearly the same packet that brought us the first proofs we ever saw of his talents, bore the news of his death; and since then, every production of his that has reached us has furnished an additional proof of the loss music sustained by his premature decease. Two out of the three pieces conjoined is this article are further evidences of his ability, the subjects of which have been treated by many, by few so well, and by none better.

The first is on the airs ‘Chantez, joyeux Ménestrel,’ and ‘Robin Adair,’ the latter, since Boieldieu introduced it in his opera, having become as popular on the continent as it was here some years ago. The second is on ‘Pauvre Dame Marguerite;’ and the third is the ballad, or Lied, ‘Einsam bin ich nicht alleine,’ with variations.

In Nos. 1 and 2, the melodies, though fully accompanied, are distinctly heard; the harmony, abundant as it is, does not obscure the subject, and the arpeggioed passages, in all shapes, are in due relation to it. Both are well calculated for the instrument, and the manner in which they are written would alone be sufficient to prove the composer a real master of the piano-forte. They are not difficult for good players, but far from easy for the generality, and will excite more pleasure than astonishment. We must, however, express our regret that a wish to comply with custom—for M. K.’s own taste surely must have revolted against it—should have betrayed him into the commission of semitonic passages of the worst kind. His introduction to No. 1, in which are some fine effects, is spoiled at the end by an up-and-down run of half notes which seems to have no end, and almost prejudices the ear against the melody that immediately succeeds.

The ten variations, including the finale, on the German air, No. 3, possess all the vivacity which, arises from the active motion of the hand on the instrument, sweeping in arpeggios from low to high and back again, but this is the whole amount of the praise due to them, except that they are not carried on to any immoderate length.

THE airs incorporated in No. 1 are pretty, and free from that kind of commonness, which is almost another word for vulgarity, but the same paucity of new ideas is visible here, as in too many of the publications of the day. It is evident that we must go back to old favourites, most of which are forgotten, and would be novelties to the present generation.

No. 2 are easy enough, certainly, as the word Sonatine announces, but are trite and childish as well as easy, with old-fashioned bases, cantering either in triplets of quavers, or moving à l’Alberti, in chords broken into semiquavers. We certainly should have expected from a man of M. Aloys Schmidt’s talent, trifles of a less trifling kind.

MR. ETHERINGTON’s Divertimento is compounded of ‘Una voce poco fà’ with its second movement: ‘Zitti! Zitti!’ and ‘Largo al Factotum,’ all of which, it is true, have been so often arranged, and are so perfectly known by heart by every one with a musical ear—nay, they are actually played about the streets of Constantinople; the very Moslems hum them—that we should have thought the present arranger too late for the market; but of this he is the fittest judge; we have only to speak of the manner of working up the airs into their present form, which is very creditable to Mr. Etherington’s taste. Indeed he has done little more than arrange from the score, his additions are just enough to blend the three, and these are modestly and judiciously made. He has retained the key E, kept within very moderate bounds as regards length, and consulted both the character of the instrument and convenience of the performer.

No. 2 is a very brief and easy version of this popular march, in two pages and a half. It is suited to very youthful practitioners, whom it will please, without in any degree vitiating their taste.

DUETS, PIANO-FORTE.

Robert has already taken many shapes, and now assumes that of duets, Mr. Watts, the chief agent in the business, having so willed it, and a better qualified person for the purpose could not have been found. It is sufficient now, since we so often have had to speak of the various parts of[Pg 33] this opera, to mention what pieces are here chosen; our opinion of their respective merits has already been given. The first book contains the introduction, with the chorus ‘Aux seuls Plaisirs;’ the popular air, ‘Jadis régnait en Normandie,’ of course; and the chorus, ‘Non! il faut qu’il soit punit.’ The second is almost wholly occupied with ‘O Fortune! à ton caprice.’ and the remainder of the scene, preceded by the chorus, ‘Nous sommes tous flattés.’

There is nothing in any of these which could have been rendered difficult when distributed among four hands, and the present is too wary an adapter to throw impediments in the way of performers of the purchasing class.

OVERTURE to Spohr’s Grand Romantic Opera Jessonda, arranged by L. ZERBINI. (Wessel and Co.)

PIANO-FORTE performers are now so abundant that overtures, and full orchestral compositions, when arranged, generally take the shape of duets. We are become so accustomed to them in this form, that very few players will singly attempt them, knowing how comparatively meagre they sound when committed to two hands. This is a faithful and good adaptation of the score, and renders that easy and effective for two performers which is quite the reverse for one.

How long will Mr. L. Zerbini continue to announce himself in his title-pages as a ‘pupil’?—The public, he ought to know, are inclined to think more favourably of publications by masters than by scholars.

No. 1 consists of five clever and very pleasant variations on an air which appears to much greater advantage instrumentally than vocally. This is short enough to admit an encore, and if played with neatness and some degree of brilliancy, will very often induce the hearers to ask for it a second time.

In No. 2, Mr. Perry has given us the air, with its second movement, ‘Io sono docile,’ exactly according to the score. We do not perceive that he has added or taken away a single note; but he has transposed the whole from E to F, and this we cannot consider an improvement. In days long gone by, the key of E with four sharps looked formidably; the march of music has robbed it of its terrors; and every one who has the slightest faith in the character of keys, will protest against so violent a change.

No. 3 is the air made so amusing by Signor Lablache; though many laughed while he was crying ‘Slippers! who wants slippers?’ without very well knowing what they laughed at. Signor (Maestro) Cittadini might have chosen something better adapted to the purpose than an air, the merit of which depends so much on the words and the humour in singing them. Spread, as this is, over nineteen pages, and exhibiting so little variety, we must say that, should it sell, it will prove more useful to the stationer and publisher than the purchaser. We do not, however, mean to cast any slur on the arrangement itself, which is faultless, but in the selection made by the Maestro.

VOCAL.

THE ART of SINGING, a Method, in Three Parts, on an entirely new plan of vocalization, &c., by J. P. LE CAMUS. (Published by the Author.)

THIS is a ponderous tome indeed! Two hundred and twelve large folio pages! But considering what it is to achieve—or rather, what the author most courageously asserts it will effect—such vastness of extent is by no means unnecessary. But let the author himself be heard.

‘The Method,’ he says, ‘I now publish has more novelty, and (I may say) more importance than the public usually attribute to works of this nature. It is the fruit of a singular but fertile idea, developed with conscientious care, and with the intention of superseding all the treatises on singing that have hitherto appeared.’—(Preface.)

There is no bashfulness in this, but much candour. Whenever a work is published the author wishes it to be thought the best that ever appeared, and hopes that it may cast into utter oblivion all others of the kind; but he seldom has honesty enough to declare this. M. Le Camus has no disguise.

‘Do we,’ he continues, ‘look for a proof of the insufficiency of all these treatises? Let us examine the actual state of the art. Vocal music was never so generally cultivated, and yet nothing is more uncommon than to meet with a singer whose principles are invariable, and whose execution is always perfect.’—(Preface.)

Very true, indeed, M. Le Camus; and, let us add, we should think the millennium actually arrived were we to meet with a singer, or any other description of human being, ‘always perfect.’

The Method herein proposed and followed, is to accompany the voice of the student, whether he be singing the diatonic or chromatic scales, the different intervals, or melodies of any kind, with a full harmony, in which as many ‘varied modulations are introduced as possible, in order to familiarize his ear with every harmonical combination, so that no transition, however abrupt, may take him by surprise.’—(Preface.)

There is no novelty in all this, we can assure the author; every good master has pursued the same plan. We grant that the number of such masters is not very great; we know that singing is taught,—aye in most instances,—by persons who possess very little, if any, knowledge of principles, or the power of communicating them to others, even if themselves are acquainted with them. But does it follow that, because there are many incapable teachers, a good system has never been followed by those who have studied and know their art? M. Le Camus can have inquired very little into the subject, can have consulted very few works, if he supposes that he now promulgates a system entirely new. We could at once show him three or four treatises in which the same principles are much more fully developed.

In a work of such magnitude it was to be expected that nothing relating to the vocal art would be left unsaid; but the author of this has omitted the mention of much that is essential: he gives no directions for the formation of the voice, touches very briefly on the management of the breath, is wholly silent on the subject of pronunciation, and equally reserved on a point of vital importance—expres[Pg 34]sion [15]. In short, though the author of the Method, which he seems to consider so perfect of its kind, has done something in furtherance of his plan, he has left much more undone; and if, instead of examples of his own (which fill about nineteen-twentieths of the volume), he had chosen fit compositions, in various styles, of the great masters, and treated on the best manner of executing them, he would have rendered a much greater service to the musical world, and made his book far more worth the high price he has fixed on it.

MR. FINLAY DUN’s glee is rather a successful study than work of genius;—it exhibits more signs of persevering labour than of flights of imagination. And such is the character of some of the best compositions of this kind to which the last quarter of a century has given birth. Many, indeed, brought forth during the same period have nothing to distinguish them but the smell of the lamp,—their only merit consisting in the avoidance of grammatical errors. To write these is exceedingly easy; but it requires talent to compose an effective glee,—genius to produce such as is great or beautiful.

This fortunate work opens with a Largo in F minor, common time, which changes into an andante, and ends with a movement in the major key, three-four time. The poet’s sentiments are, upon the whole, well expressed, though the accentuation is frequently incorrect. At the seventh bar a crescendo on the word ‘blast’ is, indeed, an abortive attempt to make the sound an echo to the sense; and after ‘I call upon the heavens to show,’ there ought to be a rest, or pause of some kind. There is melody in this, but the harmony is most deserving of praise. The gracefulness, though not of a very original kind, of the last movement, most probably carried the votes of the judges; but we speak on this subject with reserve, not knowing the quality of the rivals with which the work had to contend.

The piano-forte accompaniment we cannot approve: with it the composition is no longer a glee. Moreover, by often running in octaves with the alto and other parts, the worst possible effect is produced. If uncertain singers require aid, the only allowable accompaniment to a glee is confined to the very notes given to the voices.

The second of these must surely claim as its parent either a very youthful or an extremely inexperienced composer.

THOUGH we may be charged with a want of gallantry, yet we cannot say much in commendation of either Nos. 1 or 2.

The music of No. 3 is far better than the verses, which are very inferior to most of Mr. Wade’s lyrical productions.

If the success of No. 5 is as great as many very bold advertisements might lead us to believe, popularity is not invariably a test of merit in a song. The air is rather pleasing, but such an utter disregard of poetical accent we have rarely ever witnessed, e. g.

No. 6 is a worthy companion to the preceding. The poet and musician rival each other in good sense: Par nobile fratrum.—The one sings,—

No. 7 is a good Christmas song, with chorus for soprano and base. The words and music are both exhilarating, and the whole is easy.

No. 8 is one of the numerous class of Swiss airs which so much resemble each other. The few bars, however, of[Pg 35] opening, slow and in the minor key, give some variety and character to this, and rather distinguish it from the many. We cannot say much in favour of the words, which savour of nonsense verses.

No. 9 is well designed, but in the execution the composer seems to have been at a loss; there are in this many proofs of inexperience as a writer,—not exactly errors, but want of habit. We, however, recommend him to persevere, practice will remedy defects of the kind to which we allude.

No. 10 evinces talent that we hope will be often called forth. The melody is exceedingly pleasing, and far from common; some of the phrases remind us of the classical schools, and are as unexpected as charming, particularly that in the second page, beginning at the fifth bar. The accompaniment, too, is not less to be approved.

WE have great pleasure in announcing the first meeting of a Society, under the above designation, comprising a body of musical talent, calculated, as we think, to render most essential service to the cause of music generally, but more especially so to the exhibition of vocal excellence, unfettered by the caprice or tyranny of that non-descript, but all-powerful, influence which is known under the familiar term—Fashion. It is, perhaps, the fairest way that the Society should speak for itself; and we therefore insert a considerable portion of the prospectus put forth by its members, which is sufficiently explanatory of what it purposes to accomplish:—‘It has often been a subject of regret among the lovers of English vocal music, that the opportunities of hearing it effectively performed are becoming more rare. The compositions of native musicians are nearly banished from the concerts of the metropolis; the glees of Webbe, Calcott, Cooke, and Battishill, as well as those of their living successors, being superseded by the productions of foreign composers. Were excellence alone made the test of admission, the English musician would have no right to complain; but it may be questioned whether such a principle of exclusion is called for by public opinion or the progress of musical science; or whether the compositions of modern Italy are better calculated to improve the taste of the professor, and to increase the gratification of the amateur, than those of our own country. The regulations of the several societies formed for the encouragement of glee writing, and the practice of glee singing, preclude the presence of ladies, while they are attended with considerable expense wholly unconnected with their musical objects. The intention of the Vocal Society is to present, as its principal feature, the vocal music of the English school, both ancient and modern, including that of the church, the chamber, and the theatre; with the addition of foreign compositions of excellence, songs, duets, concerted pieces, and chorusses, several of which (hitherto almost unknown in this country) are preparing for performance. To this object, its members respectfully invite the co-operation of those who cherish a love for that species of music in which the most celebrated English composers have been proved to excel, and to unite with them in a strenuous effort to vindicate its claim to public attention and patronage.’

To this rational and ingenuous address thirty names are appended, both male and female, including most of the vocal performers of acknowledged merit in the metropolis. We now proceed to give the program of the first concert, to which we shall add such observations as occurred to us during the performance:—

FIRST CONCERT OF THE VOCAL SOCIETY, King’s Concert Room, Hanover Square, Monday, January 7th, 1833.

Leader, Mr. T. COOKE.—Organ and Piano-forte, Messrs. TURLE, GOSS, and HORNCASTLE.

We have here presented to our view a wide range of musical compositions embracing a period of upwards of two centuries, and comprising names which will live till ‘music shall untune the sky.’ The performers exerted themselves to the utmost, and the most fastidious critic could have found but little to disapprove. We earnestly hope that the same spirit of emulation will continue to be shown throughout the remaining concerts; and, if such be the case, we cannot entertain a doubt of the liberal patronage of the musical public. Much will depend upon the judgment and taste of those with whom the choice of the selections will rest; and it will involve a point of some delicacy, as well as require a certain firmness, in deciding upon the introduction of the works of living composers, who will naturally be desirous of having their music brought forward under such favourable circumstances. It is in this point of view that we are glad to observe among the names of the members a great preponderance of vocalists, and but few distinguished by their writings; this will render the society more independent, by offering a wider and more extensive field in which to roam, collecting sweets wherever they are to be found; and while not insensible to living merit, yet free to draw largely from the stores of excellence, both ancient and modern, which will amply repay the task of bringing forward, and present the[Pg 36] fairest prospect of success and permanence to the VOCAL SOCIETY.

Leader, Mr. T. COOKE.—Organ and Piano-forte, Messrs. TURLE, GOSS, BLACKBOURNE, and HORNCASTLE.

This Selection contains some very good music, and is upon the whole, quite equal in merit to its precursor. It commences most appropriately with the fine anthem by Jonathan Battishill (No. 1), of which the three first movements were given; the verse for equal voices, was extremely well sung by Messrs. Hawkins, Hobbs, and Atkins, and the whole went off with much effect. Apropos, in regard to Battishill,—this admirable composer published two volumes of ‘Songs for three and four Voices,’ the greater part of which are models in glee-writing; and we strongly recommend them to the notice of this society, as being worthy of occasional introduction. Two charming Madrigals, one in each act (Nos. 5 and 15) gave general satisfaction, and were called for par acclamation. Several members of the Madrigal Society were present, and judging from “outward and visible signs” were highly gratified with the performance. Mr. Braham sang a long cantata (No. 3), and did all that could be done for it; we should have been glad to have seen his powers exerted to more effect; this gentleman is himself a host, and can perform wonders; but in the present instance had no scope for display. A MS. glee of Sir John Rogers, for six voices (No. 4) was sung with taste and expression; the worthy Baronet, though an amateur, may fearlessly enter the lists with most of the professors of the present day, none of whom but might be justly proud of producing such a specimen of melody and harmony combined. A glee of Mr. Goss was chastely and beautifully performed: it is an elegant piece of writing, and was encored with high plaudits, which it fully merited.

However excellent the plan and arrangements of these Concerts, we confess a considerable difference of opinion with the managers upon one point, and that, a not unimportant one—we allude to what, at the Philharmonic Concerts, is called the conductor’s department. There, it is allotted to one individual throughout the evening; and although we have always considered the conductorship at that Concert a most useless office, yet we would prefer seeing it confined to one, rather than shared by different persons during the same evening. At the first of these Concerts, it was announced, that the organ and piano-forte would be taken by Messrs. Turle, Goss, and Horncastle; and Mr. Blackbourne’s name is added to the list in the present concert. The reputation of these gentlemen is too well-established, to render it necessary to have recourse to this puffing mode; for which there is no occasion, and out of which much inconvenience may arise. We would take the liberty of suggesting as the more preferable course, that the same individual retain his situation for the evening,—upon whom, in that case, would devolve the responsibility of conducting that department of the business of the night; and to this conductor we would in all humility offer our decided opinion, that the less he was heard, except in instances where an accompaniment was obligato, the more perfect would be the effect produced. Genuine glee-singing is essentially injured by the jingling of the piano-forte, especially when singers know their own powers, and can sustain their voices without such artificial aid.

EXTRACTS FROM THE DIARY OF A DILETTANTE.

January 2nd.—NATIVE TURKISH MUSIC!—Mr. Slade, in his Travels in Turkey, Greece, &c., just published, gives us a curious account of the knowledge of the Turkish Capitan Pacha, or high admiral, in musical matters. This officer had been a shoemaker, and knew as much of naval affairs as of the fine arts. Mr. Slade visited him on board his ship, and, among other amusements got up for the English traveller, was a concert, which he thus describes:—

‘In the middle of the day he (the Capitan Pacha) crept into the kennel abaft the mizen-mast, and reposed for some hours, his example being duly followed by the officers, stretched out on the quarter-deck, and covered by flags to keep off the sun. On awaking, coffee and chibouques were served. Water was then brought, with a complete change of garments! and in the same narrow box, six feet by three, by two high, he washed and dressed; then came out and enjoyed the cool of the evening on his quarter-deck couch; always doing me the honour to place me beside him with a chibouque, and no doubt it was a droll sight to the crew, who all gathered round to see the[Pg 37] pacha and me thus cheek by jowl. His band, consisting of as many drums and cymbals as could be collected, with two clarionets and one fife, made a noise for our benefit. It played the hunter’s chorus in Freischütz, Zitti, zitti, and Malbrook, over and over, till I fairly wished it at the bottom of the sea. I not only could not stop my ears, but was obliged to applaud liberally. Thinking that its style was more adapted to Turkish music, at the same time intending a compliment, I asked the pacha whether it could perform any Turkish airs? “Turkish airs!” he repeated with astonishment; “Mashallah! have you not been listening to them these two hours?” I bowed, and took refuge in ignorance.’

7th. The first VOCAL CONCERT.—The unanimous and decided applause with which Bennet’s fine Madrigal was received, proves not only that a love yet remains in this country for such music, but we think indicates that it is on the increase. The truth is, that the concert-going public are completely nauseated with the modern Italian opera songs. The reception, too, of ‘Mad Tom,’ so inimitably sung by Braham, is another indication of a return to a healthy state of taste. By-the-by, only part of this is Purcell’s; the omission, however, of some of D’Urfey’s words, and the addition of two movements, by whomsoever made, are undeniable improvements [16].

The Hanover-square Rooms, where these concerts are held, have undergone a complete repair, are newly decorated, and the alteration in the orchestra must be attended by the most beneficial effect, as relates to sound.

10th. The late John Taylor, Esq. an oculist by profession, but all his life chiefly engaged in literary pursuits, a man of considerable talent, and much respected by a most numerous acquaintance, among which were many distinguished political characters, together with nearly all the best writers, artists, musicians, and players of the last sixty years—left in the hands of his executors a work entitled ‘Records of my own Life,’ which has lately been published in two octavo volumes. It consists almost wholly of anecdotes, town news, green-room history, and conversations of authors and professional persons of all kinds, and is a very amusing work, from which I extract some anecdotes that concern and will interest the musical world, and begin with two relating to the greatest of composers:—

‘Handel, when he first visited Ireland, in consequence of his disgust at the preference given to Bononcini in London, carried a letter of recommendation to Dean Swift. When the Dean heard that he was a musician and a German, he declined receiving him; but when his man added that the bearer of the letter was a great genius,—“A genius and a German!” said Swift,—“Oh, then, show him up immediately.”’ (i. 334.)

Dr. Morell—who furnished Handel with the poetry of many of his oratorios—related to Mr. Taylor, that ‘one fine summer morning, he (Dr. M.) was roused out of bed at five o’clock, by Handel, who came in his carriage a short distance from London. The doctor went to the window and spoke to Handel, who would not leave his carriage. Handel was at that time composing an oratorio. When the doctor asked him what he wanted, he said,—“What de devil means de vord billow?” which was in the oratorio the doctor had written for him. The doctor, after laughing at so ludicrous a reason for disturbing him, told him that billow meant a wave, a wave of the sea. “Oh, de vave,” said Handel; and bade his coachman return, without addressing another word to the doctor.’ (i. 355.)

Mr. T. does justice to his friend, the late Dr. Arnold, who, he says, with great truth, ‘was long an ornament of the musical world, and by the general estimation of his professional merits, was a man of great genius, as well as profound in musical science. In private life he was humorous, intelligent, and convivial. He was well acquainted with the world, and always took an active, spirited, and agreeable part in conversation.’

Mr. Taylor was intimately acquainted with two of the finest female singers that the history of music can boast; the following anecdotes and characters he gives of them may, therefore, be received as authentic beyond all doubt.

‘When Madame Mara first appeared as a singer at Berlin, Frederick the Great refused to witness her powers alleging that she was a German, and, therefore, could not, possibly be a good singer. At length, however, he was persuaded to hear her, and when the concert was over, he approached her, and asked if she could sing at sight. She answered in the affirmative, on which he took a piece of manuscript music from his pocket, and asked her if she could sing that. She told him that it was the most difficult piece she had ever met with; but looking it over for a few minutes, she told him that she could. “Do, then,” said the king. She complied, and from that moment his prejudice was at an end, and she became a favourite. Becoming, however, tired of Berlin, she asked permission to visit Italy on account of her health. The king, however, would not suffer her to depart.’

‘She had a very favourite harpsichord, or piano-forte, and the king, who had set a watch over her, believed that while that remained in Berlin he was secure of her. She was therefore obliged to resort to artifice to effect her escape. She sent the instrument to be repaired, but ordered that, instead of being returned to her abode, as soon as the work was done, it should be sent to Vienna. When she had reason to believe that it was secure from capture, she and her husband secretly followed it with all expedition. The wary Frederick was soon apprized of their escape, and despatched a messenger immediately to Joseph II., then Emperor of Germany, desiring that he would arrest them. The emperor, with great kindness, condescended to let them know that there was no resisting the desire of the King of Prussia, and therefore advised them to hurry away as fast as possible, that he might inform the king that his messenger had arrived too late.’

‘Madame Mara possessed a masculine understanding, and had been so much used to male society, which she preferred, that she was little qualified for intercourse with the female world. She was animated in company, and uttered humorous and shrewd remarks.’

Mrs. Billington.—[Pg 38]‘I knew this admirable singer when she was very young, and was present when she first appeared in public, and performed a concerto on the piano-forte, at seven years old. Her brother, on the same night, performed a concerto on the violin, when he was nearly the same age. They both displayed extraordinary powers, even without considering the early period at which they had acquired so much skill. She was born at Baugh, in 1765. Her father was of a noble family in Germany, but, by the decline of his fortune, was obliged to cultivate his musical talents as a profession. He was a harsh and severe man, and partly on account of his temper, his wife was induced to quit him, and support herself as a principal vocal performer at Vauxhall-Gardens, retaining the name of Weichsel, though separated from her husband.’

‘That Mrs. Billington possessed a kind disposition, I, who knew her early and long, can confidently affirm. Her great talents rendered her an object of envious rivalry, and interested scribblers defamed her character. The man who, by his influence over her mother, obtained all the property of the latter by a real or pretended will in his favour, took possession of that property, and had the revolting indecency to remove it from her lodgings on the very day of her death; and, notwithstanding his affected friendship for the mother, almost immediately after her death published a scurrilous life of the daughter, recording actions and events which existed only in the invention of disappointed malice and venality.’

‘On her death, her [second] husband [M. Fellisson] returned to this country, and demanded her property from her trustee, Mr. Savory [of Bond street], her firm and zealous friend; and as there was no opposing claim, I understood from Mr. Savory, that he paid him to the amount of 40,000l.’

I can add to the above, that more than one of her friends, on taking leave of her previously to this journey, felt, all circumstances considered, that they should never see her again, either in England or elsewhere. She fell a sacrifice to a very much mistaken sense of duty; but the immediate cause of her death has never yet been stated.

He tells us that Mr. James Hook, (the most voluminous composer of songs that ever existed) had for his first wife a lady of very respectable talents as an artist. She had also literary talents, and wrote two or three dramatic pieces, which were well received by the public, and to which her husband’s music was adapted. She wrote the words of several of his songs. She died some years before her husband, and a considerable time elapsed before Mr. Hook married again.... ‘His two sons, James and Theodore, both displayed extraordinary abilities at a very early age, and their parents gave them every advantage of education. James was placed very early at Westminster school, where he soon distinguished himself by his classical attainments and literary powers. He also, at a very early period, displayed considerable skill and taste as an artist. He wrote an opera, Jack of Newbury, to which his father contributed the music, which was successfully performed at Drury-Lane Theatre. Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Hook enjoyed several valuable preferments, and finally became Dean of Worcester. He inherited the musical taste of his father. Theodore, his younger brother, also distinguished his talents at Westminster school. He is the author of several dramatic pieces, which have been represented with great success;—(ii. 392.)

Mr. Taylor thus mentions the late Mr. Shield:—‘Perhaps there never was an individual more respected, esteemed, and admired than this late eminent composer. With a shrewd, intelligent, and reflecting mind, and a manly spirit, there was a simplicity in his manners that obviously indicated the benevolence of his disposition. Of his musical merits it is unnecessary to speak, as his compositions were universally admired for their science, as well as for their fancy, taste, and sensibility.’—(ii. 220.)

Of Jackson, the composer, or ‘Jackson of Exeter,’ as he is commonly called, Mr. T. speaks thus:—‘Mr. Jackson possessed an excellent understanding, and literary talents of no ordinary description. His “Thirty Letters on various Subjects” is a work highly creditable to his talents and knowledge of human nature. He was a tall, good-looking man, with an expressive face, and a reserved, grave demeanour. He appeared to me to be well acquainted with history, and with the opinions of the ancient philosophers. According to the report of Mr. Opie and Dr. Wolcot, he was an admirable judge of painting.... He was one of the very few men whom Dr. Wolcot, a shrewd judge of mankind, regarded with particular respect for his intellectual powers.’—(ii. 347.)

16th. A discovery, it is said, has been made, which, were it to turn out as represented, would create an extraordinary sensation in the musical world. In examining a great quantity of manuscripts of all kinds, left by the late Mr. Harris, chief proprietor and long manager of Covent-Garden Theatre, and which had been accumulating during the last forty or fifty years, an opera in score, by Mozart, in his own hand-writing, with his signature in every page, has been found, and which, it is stated, has never been performed. This is all that has been heard on the subject; though some persons of a sanguine turn, and a lively imagination, have already persuaded themselves that it was actually composed for Mr. Harris, but at first neglected, and afterwards forgotten by him. The improbability, if not the impossibility, of this will at once be obvious, when it is considered that Mozart kept a most accurate list of all his compositions, from the commencement of the year 1784, before which time he had produced only one of his great works;—that in that Catalogue Thématique[17] he carefully recorded when, where, and for what purpose his various works were produced; and that therein no notice is taken of any opera written for Mr. Harris, or of any other whatever that has not since been performed. The chances are, then, that if this is not an authenticated copy of some of the well-known operas, it is a transcript of one of those composed by him in his boyhood, whereof there are several extant, all of which have been examined repeatedly, by different persons, and found wholly unworthy of being brought forward in any shape. This is supposed to be the grand secret divulged some weeks ago to a committee of performers at Covent-garden Theatre. At first the story had a suspicious aspect,—it seemed to be a clumsy imitation of the Shakspeare forgeries; but upon inquiry it appears pretty certain, that if there is any deception in the business, the gentlemen in whose hands the Manuscript is placed are not answerable for it. There is not, however the slightest ground for believing that the expectations excited by this circumstance will be, in any manner or degree, realized.

18th. The Royal Society of Musicians have presented Mr. John Parry, the well-known secretary of the Association for the encouragement of Welsh Poetry and Music, with an elegant piece of plate, as an acknowledgment of his zealous and disinterested services, which, it was stated by the chairman of a dinner given on the occasion, had been the means of adding, for the last twelve years, upwards of 60l. per annum to the funds of that benevolent and useful society. Such instances of active liberality are worthy of being recorded.

18th. I lately rejoiced, but it seems very prematurely, on hearing that the former excellent president of the Madrigal Society, Sir John Rogers, Bart., had met with so fit and proper a successor as his friend, William Linley, Esq. I now learn that Mr. Linley was elected; but, finding that there had been some informality in the proceeding, he requested to have the ceremony repeated at the next meeting: when, lo! it was proposed and carried, that the president in future should be ephemeral,—that he should be inaugurated at five and abdicate at nine—so that each day should bring with it a new ruler, and that each member should sway the sceptre in turn, whether qualified or not for the duties of the office; a measure which, I humbly conjecture, will sometimes place the symbol of power in hands not very well prepared to hold it. Some of the oldest and best members of the society thought that so able a composer as Mr. Linley,—the son of the author of ‘Let me careless,’—a gentleman in education, station, and fortune—would be a likely person to give efficiency to the chair: the majority at one meeting thought otherwise; and I fear that this ancient, this useful, and agreeable association will suffer by what I cannot but think a hasty, injudicious decision.

26th. A noble master in chancery, who has proposed a mode of reforming the church establishment, is for leaving the incomes of the bishops much as they are, bettering them in some cases, but proposes to abolish at once the cathedral service, and, consequently, to send adrift vicars-choral, lay-clerks, organists, and all appertaining to the musical establishment of our ancient seats of episcopacy. This has produced the following letter to the Times of to-day, and the accompanying copy of verses:—

FOREIGN MUSICAL REPORT.

VIENNA.

ON the occasion of the consecration of the new cross which has been mounted on the steeple of the Wieden parish church, M. Glöggle, the director of the choruses, showed that he could combine musical devotion with patriotic feeling. After the celebration of high mass, during which Haydn’s Nelson’s Mass and Cherubini’s Graduale were performed, the consecration commenced. There were eight trumpeters (together with kettle-drummers) who, after flourishing for some time, played ‘God save the Emperor,’ from the steeple. After which, Haydn’s Te Deum was given in the church; and the choir, with the accompaniment of the organ and the trumpets, repeated the national anthem.

M. Lachner, kapellmeister to the court, lately gave a concert here, for the purpose of producing some of his most recent compositions; at which a symphony was performed, which may rank with the best productions of living composers. The brilliant instrumentation of the first movement, the charming andante, the scherzo fugato, constantly increasing in interest, as well as the grand finale, sufficiently manifested that the clever composer[Pg 40] knew how to employ the rich store of his ideas and to follow the best models. The introduction to the oratorio, Moses, is conceived in the noblest style, and is a composition of real genius; its principal feature is a chorus of exquisite effect, which was admirably sung. If M. Lachner brings the oratorio to a conclusion with the genius and skill which characterize the introduction, he will have accomplished a work which alone will entitle him to a place among the most celebrated German composers.

We are in anticipation of a rich treat at a concert to be given by a musical family, lately arrived here from Russia, and who have already acquired considerable fame by their distinguished abilities. Their name is Koutsky, and the members are Eugenia, a singer; Anton and Stanislaus, pianists (the former a pupil of Field’s); and Carl and Apollino, violinists.

BERLIN.

An operetta by C. Blum, entitled Baldrian und Rosa, and founded upon a fairy-tale, was lately produced here: it is altogether an insignificant trifle, containing, however, an occasional pretty little song, in the waltz form.

On the 18th of November, Gretry’s Richard Löwenherz (Richard Cœur de Lion) was reproduced, after a lapse of many years; but the manner in which it was got up was anything but satisfactory; it was, in fact, a disgrace to the management. Irene, too, has been given again, with improved success; and on the 5th of December, Spontini’s Nurmahal was once more brought forward for the début of a Mlle. Stephan, as Namuna. Beyond a very fine voice, this young lady has at present but few recommendations; she is as yet but a hot-house plant; had she only been kept back half a year, and received proper instruction, she might have been listened to with pleasure: as it was, her début was premature.

On the 7th of December, M. Blume appeared, for the first time since his return to Berlin, in the character of Don Juan, with his wonted success.

It is understood that Kapellmeister Marschner, from Hamburgh, will soon be here to bring out his opera, Hans Heiling. Mlle. Schneider, the daughter of our kapellmeister, has lately arrived, and Mad. Schroeder Devrient is shortly expected.

The concerts which have been given in aid of the fund for the widows of the members of the orchestra, have been very attractive. At the first, M. Mendelssohn conducted a symphony of his own composition, which was well received. On the 28th of November a concert was given at the garrison church, by M. Bach, music-director. The selection consisted chiefly of his own compositions; there were, however, two sacred songs by Bernhard Klein, sterling compositions, and finely sung by Mad. Turrschmied. The concert was unfortunately less productive than would probably have been the case had the weather been less severe.

The King of Prussia has appointed Meyerbeer Maestro di Capella to the court. Till now no such office existed here, but the place has been created expressly for M. Meyerbeer, in testimony of the king’s admiration of his Robert le Diable.

DRESDEN.

A musical entertainment was given here a few weeks since by M. Fürstenau, the flute-player; in addition to whose performances, a solo was played upon the flute by his son, eight years of age. The vocal pieces were given by Mad. Schroeder Devrient, and MM. Babnigg, Vestri, and Zegi.

On the 18th of November, M. Molique, music-director to the Court at Stuttgart, played at the theatre some variations for the violin, of his own composition, upon Themas from Die Stumme, and upon Swiss airs. He is stated to combine in his playing, the best points of the German schools; his style is quiet, delicate, and tasteful, and he has, at the same time, uncommon mechanical dexterity; his tone is rich and full, and his octaves and tenths exquisitely pure; his staccato is perfect, and his adagio grand and full of expression.

MUNICH.

At the last concert of the musical academy here, the overture to Samori, by Vogler, and Weber’s Jubilee overture, were very excellently performed. Mlle. Schechner and M. Pellegrini distinguished themselves in the vocal pieces; Mlle. Violanda Dülken, from the Conservatoire at Paris, sang variations of Pacini; M. Menter played a solo on the violoncello; and Mad. Bohrer on the piano-forte.

STUTTGART.

The grand musical society which gave the Messiah so effectively last year, has considerably improved, not only in number, but also in excellence; and their recent performance of Judas Maccabeus was certainly one of the most perfect the work has ever undergone.

PESTH.

A young virtuoso on the piano-forte, Joseph Rigg, has been playing at the theatre here with very great success. He performed the first movement of a concerto of Hummel, and some variations of Czerny, with precision, sweetness, and great execution.

MILAN.

At the Teatro alla Scala, a new opera by Mercadante, called Ismalia Ossia Morte ed Amore, the Libretto by Romanelli, made a fiasco; nothing in the whole opera, save the choruses, gave satisfaction; his Donna Caritea, however, was well received, and Mlle. Vial, from Munich, who sustained the principal character, was much applauded. The principal singers here are, prime donne, Antonia Vial, Teresa Melas, Isabella Fabrica (contralto in male characters); tenore, Giuseppe Binaghi; bassi, Gio. Giordani and Filippo Spada. All of them good singers, say the Milanese, with the addition, ‘di secondo ordine.’ Thus it is when people are accustomed to hear always such singers as Pasta, Rubini, Donzelli, Lablache, Tamburini, &c.

At the Cannobiano, Generali’s somewhat old but still beautiful operetta, Adelina, has been reproduced, with Emma Albertazzi, an English lady, as Adelina; her voice is agreeable, and her style of singing not bad; her pronunciation and acting, however, are but indifferent.

The company which is to perform at La Scala during the carnival, includes the names of Tosi and Pallazesi, principal soprani; Terese Cecconi, first contralto; Reina and Pedrazzi, principal tenors; and Zuchelli and Giordani, first basses. The season will open with Donizetti’s Fausta, which has hitherto been heard only at the St. Carlo, Naples; to that will succeed a new opera, written expressly for the carnival by the young Maestro, Ricci, and called Fernando Cortez; the third is to be Caterina di Guisa, which Coccia is now employed in composing; and Mercadante is engaged to bring out a fourth, of which the name is not yet known.

Amongst the company at the Carcano are Balfe [19] and his wife, Mad. Albertini, Madlle. Michel; the tenor, Bonfigli, and the buffo, Cambiagio. This theatre will open on the 26th of December, with the Capuletti e Montecchi of Bellini.

ROME.

Teatro Valle.—The new opera buffa, Il Disertore Svizzero, by the Neapolitan maestro, Lauro Rossi, was given here with great success. The young maestro—for he is only twenty-two years of age, composed his first opera four years ago, for the Teatro Nuovo at Naples, and this is already his fourth; it is a lively and pleasing production. The prima donna, Anna del Serre, and MM. Giorgio Ranconi, Salvi, and Lauretti, contributed their utmost towards its favourable reception.

BOLOGNA.

From recent accounts, the principal singers here were Mesds. Malibran, Schoberlechner, Bonetti, Rafaella, and Venier, all prime donne; M. Pedrazzi, tenore; and Marcolino and Porto, bassi. On the 3rd of October, Donizetti’s Anna Bolena was given, and on the 13th and 16th, La Gazza Ladra, on which occasion the delightful Malibran enchanted her audience by the exquisite manner in which she sustained the part of Ninetta.

TURIN.

The contralto, Carolina Vietti, a native of this place, and pupil of the Academia Filarmonica, lately made her début at this theatre as Zadig, in Vaccaj’s Zadig ed Astarte; she gave fair promise, and received much encouragement.

NAPLES.

Madame Malibran’s performance in this city has been one continued and splendid triumph: at first, the cognoscenti of Naples were inclined to question the justice of the unbounded praises that have been lavished on this astonishing songstress, and to receive her with sang froid, and weigh her pretensions with all the coolness of determined critics; but she had no sooner opened her mouth than all this was instantly converted into an enthusiasm of applause and admiration, to which the oldest frequenters of the Opera remember no parallel. For seventeen nights the theatre was crowded at double prices, notwithstanding the subscribers’ privileges were on most of these occasions suspended, and although Otello, La Cenerentola, La Gazza Ladra, and pieces of that description, were the only ones offered to a public, long since tired even of the beauties of Rossini, and proverbial for its love of novelty. But her grand triumph of all, was on the night when she took her leave of the Neapolitan audience in the character of Ninetta: nothing can be imagined superior to the spectacle afforded by the immense theatre of St. Carlo, crowded to the very ceiling, and ringing with acclamations and applause. Six times, after the fall of the curtain, Madame Malibran was called forward to receive the reiterated applauses and adieux of an audience, which seemed unable to bear the idea of a final separation from its new idol, who had only strength and spirits left to kiss her hand to the assembled multitude, and indicate, by graceful and expressive gestures, the degree to which she was overpowered by fatigue and emotion. The scene did not even end within the walls of the theatre; a crowd of the most enthusiastic rushed from all parts of the house to the stage-door, and as soon as Madame Malibran’s sedan came out, escorted it with loud acclamations to the Palazzo Barbaja, and renewed their salutations as the charming songstress ascended the steps. Nothing can prove more decidedly how strong an impression Malibran made upon the Neapolitans, than the fact, that the next opera which was performed was received with the most mortifying coolness, though the opera itself, Donizetti’s Esule di Roma, is a standard favourite in Naples, and its various revivals, for ten years past, have been till now successful, although Lablache made his first appearance in it on his return to his native city, and Ronzi de Begnis, whose voice, action, and style, have all improved considerably during her long retreat from the stage, performed the principal female character.

CONSTANTINOPLE.

The reform which the emperor has been so industriously and zealously promoting in the manners and customs of the Turks, will soon be as complete in musical as it already is in military affairs. The Turkish, or rather Arabic music, has given way to that of Europe, and scarcely anything of melody or harmony is now heard in Constantinople that has not been imported from Italy. At four o’clock in the afternoon, at the moment of Yindy, the time when the public functionaries among the Ottomans retire from business, a band of wind instruments is daily heard traversing the interval between the courts of the new palace. This band is called the ‘Band of the Agas of the Seraglio,’ and consists entirely of young Turks who have become able performers, under the instruction of M. Donizetti, brother of the composer. At first, the combinations of European harmony, and the overtures of Rossini, were torture to the ears of all good Mussulmen, but they begin, at length, to be somewhat reconciled by use, and their holy horror at whatever proceeds from the Giaours of the West is not proof against the charms of ‘Di Tanti Palpiti,’ and numerous other melodies of Rossini, &c.

NOVARA.

The Maestro Pietro Generali, a composer of some popularity in his time, died lately in this city, of which he had been, for six years past, Maestro di Capella. Most accounts of this master have been in error, both as to his real name, and in stating him to have been a native of Rome. His name was Pietro Mercandetti, and he was born at Masserano, near Vercelli, in Piedmont; but he went to Rome with his father when very young, and studied music in that city, under an old singer belonging to the Sistine chapel. He had a happy turn for music, made a very rapid progress, and for a short time enjoyed a brilliant reputation. His success would have been greater if he had given himself less up to the dominion of his passions, and led a more regular life. During the latter years of[Pg 42] his dramatic career many of his compositions were ill received by the public; this disgusted him with the theatre. His pecuniary means were very precarious, and feeling the necessity of making some provision for approaching age, he returned to his native country, and succeeded in attaining, as mentioned above, the situation of Maestro di Capella, at Novara. One opera of his, Adelina, has been performed both in London and Paris; and it has been said, that if Generali’s works had been more long-lived, many of Rossini’s melodies would lose their claim to originality.

DOUAY.

A society has been established here for some months, under the title of ‘Societé d’Emulation;’ the object of which is, to give the amateurs of this city and its environs an opportunity of hearing their compositions—which would otherwise probably have been doomed to remain for ever in the privacy of portfolios—performed in full orchestra. A band was quickly raised among the amateurs and professors, to the no small satisfaction of the young composers, and it may be hoped not without a fair chance of benefit to the art itself. The success of the inauguration concert surpassed the expectation of those most interested. Mr. E. de C., already favourably known as the author of a collection of romances, produced an overture, an aria for a contralto voice, a waltz without accompaniments, and a romance or two, all distinguished by a happy flow of melody, and an easy style of instrumentation, and all much and deservedly applauded. An overture and chorus by Mr. A. T., and an air with variations, for the horn, by Mr. C. C., formed part of the selection. Institutions of this nature cannot be too much encouraged.

BERGAMO.

It is a curious fact, but no less true, that by far the greater part of the celebrated tenor singers of the present and the last age, have been natives of this province. The three brothers Bianchi, David, father and son, Viganoni, Nozzari, Donzelli, Bordogni, Marchetti, Trezzini, Bonetti, Pasini Bolognesi, (a great singer, but a still greater drinker, who, when he had ruined his voice with brandy, blew out his brains because he could sing no longer,) and last, certainly not least, Rubini and his brothers, were all born in the State of Bergamo. It would be useless to seek here for basses; still more so for sopranos, for, indeed, the Bergamese are sometimes compared to birds, of whom the males only sing.

PARIS.

Mr. Field, the celebrated pianist, and most distinguished pupil of Clementi, is in this city, and proposes to give a public concert on the 25th of December. His success cannot be for an instant doubtful; for, besides ranking deservedly high as a composer, he is, perhaps, the sweetest and most beautiful performer on the pianoforte now in existence. There is in his style that inexpressible charm with which we used formerly to be so delighted when hearing Clementi, Dussek, and some other distinguished members of a school which now can hardly be said to exist but in the recollection of a few. Mr. Field represents that school in all its glory. To look at his hands, which scarcely seem to move; to contemplate the calmness of his countenance while playing, one would be tempted to suppose he was performing nothing but the easiest music in the world; while the fact is, that the greatest, the most complicated difficulties, are really no difficulties at all to him. Under Mr. Field’s fingers the piano is no longer a mere piece of mechanism; it sings, and seems as competent to produce sustained tones, as though it were played with a bow. Touched by this exquisite performer, it is a real musical instrument, and no longer a mere theatre for the exhibition of tours de force, the use to which the kind of talent possessed by a majority of what are called the greatest artists of the present day nearly confines it.

Théâtre Italien.—Although the performance of La Straniera satisfied the Parisian critics, as it had already those of London,[20] how little claim Bellini has to the rank as a composer which his Italian flatterers have assigned him! The beauty of the scenery and decorations, added to the singing of Grisi, Rubini, and more especially Tamburini, gave it a popularity which lasted through several repetitions. It was followed by Il Pirata, this by Donizetti’s Anna Bolena, and the latter by Mosè in Egitto. Otello and Don Giovanni are announced, in the latter of which the three female characters are to be performed by the two sisters Grisi and Mad. Tadolini, and the part of Don Juan by Tamburini. But for the singing and acting of Rubini, the Pirata would have been a complete failure. Mdlle. Doulx, a young lady who has obtained some reputation at the Conservatoire for the purity of her voice and the facility of her execution, selected the part of Imogene for her début: the choice was a bad one, because the qualifications necessary to make a good representative of Imogene are exactly the reverse of those which Mdlle. Doulx is said to possess: Imogene requires energy rather than grace; tone and volume of voice rather than agility in running divisions. It was impossible, however, to judge what the young lady might have done under other circumstances, for she was in a state of such dreadful alarm, especially during the first act, that not a note could be heard from her lips, and it appeared at times as if she could not support herself on the stage.

In Anna Bolena, Giudetta Grisi was no substitute for Mad. Pasta; little was attended to, and nothing applauded but Rubini’s Percy. His aria in the second act, notwithstanding its length and the fatigue of the singer, was vociferously encored. The revival of Mosè in Egitto has been very successful, but owes its success chiefly to the singing of Tamburini and Rubini, whose duet, ‘Parlar, spiegar,’ is one of the most finished exhibitions of the vocal art ever witnessed. Boccabadati was so ill on the first night, that her part, Elcia, has been since taken by Giudetta Grisi.

We had occasion recently to be present at a practice of the pupils educated in the Conservatoire of Classical Music, under the direction of M. Choron, and observed several circumstances, both in the system pursued by that professor, and its practical results, that appeared to us remarkable. The first thing that struck us was the extreme difficulty which must have attended the attempt to make a whole mass of people sing as an individual. At the first blush one would suppose the thing impracticable, but the patience first of the professor, and subsequently of his scholars themselves, has achieved a victory over obstacles that might have been pronounced, until the contrary was proved by the fact, insurmountable. The success of M. Choron’s system of teaching ought to attract the attention of Government the more strongly[Pg 43] because he has had for pupils only children taken promiscuously from a population at once poor, and, unfortunately, ill-disposed towards music and the arts in general. From this circumstance some judgment may be formed of what his success would have been had his system been applied to scholars of a more select kind.

One of the most remarkable sights in Mr. Choron’s school are some children, the eldest only five years old, whom the professor obliges to listen constantly to music, with the intention of accustoming their ears to harmonic sensations. He watches with extreme care the development of their infant faculties, and observes every day a progress so sensible, as to encourage the hope that the result will be an organization entirely musical. It is to be hoped that Government will comprehend that so much devotion and intelligence deserves to be encouraged, and that it will enable the establishment directed by M. Choron to extend its efforts as widely as it formerly did, by restoring to it that assistance of which it ought never to have been deprived.

THE supply for this department of our work continues as scanty as during the last two or three months. Much is promised and in preparation at the three principal theatres, but nothing yet actually produced.

The circular, or prospectus, from the KING’s THEATRE is not yet out, though it used to be issued in the month of November, and never later than the middle of December. The Chronicle, according, to its annual custom, announces a ‘brilliant season;’ we, however, suspect that the small paragraphist does not view the prospect with the same eyes as the entrepreneur. It is evident that everything must be dull at the Italian opera till after Easter, that is to say, till the beginning of May, when those who do take boxes will engage them for only half a season. But considering the fall in the value of everything—except indeed the precious metals—will people give at the same rate for boxes now that they did when rents were high, were regularly paid without deduction, and when economy was not the order of the day in Parliament, and in his Majesty’s Councils? Will Madame Boccabadati bring five shillings to the house?—Will Matilde di Shabran draw a single person?—Will the weakest of Bellini’s feeble operas, his Montecchi e Capuletti, a wretched version of Romeo and Juliet, the music worse than even the contemptible drama—will this tempt one subscriber to place his name on the box-list, or avert the mischief which seems to threaten the King’s Theatre?

At DRURY LANE Don Giovanni is actively preparing, and will be produced on the 4th instant. If it does not succeed it will not be for want of liberality on the part of the manager. Mr. WOOD has, it is said, refused the part of Don Ottavio. Why? we would fain ask. In consequence of this, M. Begrez, who often has had the character assigned to him at the King’s Theatre, is engaged to fill it. The fact is, that it requires en excellent musician to sing this music. So anxious is Captain Polhill to bring out this chef-d’œuvre of MOZART in as perfect a manner as possible, that he has offered an engagement to DRAGONETTI, who assisted at its first performance in this country, as principal double-base, in which capacity his services would be of more importance than those of half the persons on the stage.

At COVENT GARDEN a new opera by Auber is in forwardness, but we have heard no particulars concerning it. This theatre has filled well during the last month, owing to the success of the pantomime, and also to Nell Gwynne, which, though possessing little claim to notice, has drawn very much.

The ENGLISH OPERA HOUSE, the building of which is begun, will be ready to open in July next. The extended licence granted to this, and the unlimited privileges which, we have no doubt, it will soon enjoy, (as well, indeed, as the Haymarket) will enable it to meet the winter theatres on fair grounds. A theatrical revolution is at hand; smaller theatres are starting up in all quarters, and the overgrown ones must either shrink into a moderate size, or abandon every kind of dramatic representation except opera and spectacle.

In December Drury Lane filled while Covent Garden was empty. During the last month the case was reversed. Thus it has been for a long time, and thus it will continue, till some great change of system is prudently adopted.

THE MUSIC OF THE PRESENT NUMBER.

THE maxim of the French milliner, Nothing so new as that which is forgotten, continually recurs in looking over long-laid-by music. The early works of CLEMENTI are as unknown to the present generation, his Octave Lesson excepted, as the sonatas of Scarlatti, or the concertos of Emmanuel Bach, yet a single page of almost any one of them contains as much as is to be found in half a dozen of the generality of modern compositions. The sonata we have here republished—raised, we may say, from the tomb—is, considered in every point of view, a master-piece, of surpassing beauty. What a sweet, intelligible melody flows through the whole of the first movement, and how admirably set off by the harmony! The slow movement is a model of deep expression, of grandeur, and of the sublime in music [21]; and the rondo is no less remarkable for air, for gaiety, than for ingenuity—for that kind of treat[Pg 44]ment which none but a musician of the highest order knows how to bestow on a subject. The Opera VII. of Clementi was first published in Vienna, upwards of fifty years ago. We have carried a few of the passages into the octave above; and in thus slightly altering the original, have, we are persuaded, only done what the author would have approved. When he composed the Three Sonatas of this set, the additional keys had never been dreamt of: the harpsichord, for which they were written, only reached F, an octave below the present highest note.

The Andante of PARADIES is from an edition of his XII Sonata di Gravicembalo, published about seventy years since in London,—a work which charmed our grandsires, but now still less known than the early sonatas of Clementi. The notation of this composer is sometimes perplexed, and difficult of comprehension to the mere modern musician; we have, therefore, reconciled it to the present improved manner of writing, but without altering a single note, except in appearance. This movement, selected from sonata IX. needs no eulogy; the melody sings from first to last bar, and the accompaniment is that of an able contrapuntist.

Pier Dominico Paradies was a Neapolitan, a pupil of Porpora, and lived many years in London, where he arrived in 1742, and composed some operas for the King’s Theatre when under the management of the Earl of Middlesex. He was in high repute as a master, and obtained more reputation for his harpsichord lessons than his vocal works.

The recitative, from the opera of Giuglio Cesare, is one of the finest pieces of musical eloquence that the art ever produced. Dr. Burney says of it [22], that when sung by Senesino, it produced an effect never before equalled; and at the Ancient Concert, some fifty years ago, Pacchierotti used to draw tears from his auditors by his pathetic manner of declaiming it. Were it newly accompanied, with the addition of those instruments which Handel had not at command, we feel quite sure that it would be still as effective as ever; nay, more so, in the hands of a Braham, who surely could express such sentiments with more force than a soprano ever had the power to give them. The poetry is by Haym, who wrote or compiled the drama for Handel, in 1724, the year in which it was first produced at the King’s Theatre.

It now appears for the first time with a piano-forte accompaniment. The story of this opera is from the third and fourth books of Cæsar’s Commentaries, Dion. Cassius, book xiii., and Plutarch’s Lives.

The gentle and sweet aria, ‘Piangero,’ though from the same opera, is not connected with the recitative, but was generally sung after it in the concerts. There is a second movement to this, which, however suited to the character to whom it is given in the drama, is not in unison with the music of the first part, nor does it follow well such a recitative, therefore was seldom performed, except on the stage; and we have omitted it altogether.

The arietta of KEISER is from a German opera, (which, however, has also an Italian title, La forza della Virtù,) published at Hamburg in 1701. This work, now lying before us, is uncommonly rare; we never saw or heard of another copy, in England at least. A treble and base only are printed, the latter sometimes figured, the former in the soprano clef, and being in the old German type, is not very easily decyphered. The merit of this air hardly admits of dispute, and, like all that is really good in art, has suffered nothing from the lapse of time. A remarkable circumstance connected with it is, that Handel, past all doubt, either intentionally or inadvertently,—most likely the former,—imitated it in his minuet in the overture to Samson. Whoever compares the two must see that the resemblance could not have arisen from one of those coincidences which are sometimes accidental.

Keiser, born at Weissenfels, in Saxony, about the year 1673, was the most distinguished composer of opera of his day; but how few, even of musicians, have ever heard his name pronounced! Burney says of him [24], ‘His compositions are more voluminous than those of old Scarlatti (Alessandro), and his melodies, though more than fifty years old, [i.e. in 1772] are such as would now be thought modern and graceful.’ Hasse assured Dr. Burney that Keiser was, ‘according to his conceptions, one of the greatest musicians the world ever saw [25].’

The words we have adapted to this air are from Ellis’s Specimens of the early English Poets. The accompaniment is given as faithfully as two bare lines of treble and base would allow, the latter being furnished by two figures (sixths) only.

The lovely song by Dr. Arne was composed in 1769, for Shakspeare’s Jubilee at Stratford-on-Avon. Garrick wrote the words, which, it must be confessed, are not so perfect as the music set to them. Lovely as is this air, we suspect that but few in the present day know of its existence. It has never before, we believe, appeared with a distinct accompaniment; and our copy of the song carries signs of having been published more than half a century ago.

Of Mr. Horncastle’s glee, composed purposely for this work, we will only say, that we have deemed it worthy of being associated with the music of this Number; and that if it had not been set in a light and simple manner, the composer would not have expressed the words in their true spirit.

[Pg 45]

MARCH, 1833.

MEMOIR OF C. F. ZELTER.

THE name of the subject of the present memoir, though celebrated in Germany, particularly in Prussia and the Northern States, is almost wholly unknown in this country. It was first heard of in England, in consequence of the visits of M. Mendelssohn Bartholdy, whose brilliant genius and rapidly rising fame, naturally led to an inquiry respecting the school in which he was brought up; when it appeared that he owed his musical knowledge to M. Zelter. The renown of the disciple was reflected on the master, and we became anxious to obtain a sight of some of his compositions; when, after a long and diligent search, we were fortunate enough to meet with a MS. (unpublished) scena by him, which at once announced the great ability of the author, the aria whereof, adapted from the original score, will be found in our present number.

Gerber, in his biographical lexicon, gives a lengthened memoir of M. Zelter, to which we are indebted for the following account; though we have discarded much which, if not savouring of prolixity, would at least prove uninteresting to English readers. M. Zelter was what here is frequently denominated an architect, though he modestly called himself a master-builder. He was during the greater part of his life a dilettante; but when he accepted an office, he certainly became a professor.

CARL FRIEDRICH ZELTER was born at Berlin, in 1758. His father, a Saxon, had him instructed during his childhood and youth in various elegant, as well as useful, acquirements. Engaged in the cultivation of his mind, for which purpose he attended the Joachimsthal College, he had already attained his seventeenth year, when he was articled to his father’s business, that of a builder. Hitherto he had not shown much inclination for music, and had manifested but little attention to the instruction he received on the piano-forte and organ, from a Berlin organist.

After a tedious and painful illness by which he was attacked in his eighteenth year, an extraordinary passion for music all at once sprung up in him. But as at this period nearly the whole of his time was devoted to his professional pursuits, the evening alone was left to him to satisfy his thirst for harmony. Thus whole nights were frequently spent in copying music, and in practising the violin and piano-forte. This enjoyment, however, was but of short duration, for his instructor in the latter instrument could no longer attend him; and, fearing that such constant and unwearied application might injure his health, his father endeavoured to check his voluntary studies. But this did not stop his progress, for as he was now deprived of his instruments, he began to compose, for which purpose only pen, ink and paper were necessary. He had no rules, and being governed only by his fancy, his deficiency in the knowledge of composition was constantly manifesting itself, and having no acquaintance with scientific musicians, he had no means of gaining information through the medium of conversation; he, therefore, procured some scores of Emanuel Bach and Hasse, the study of which showed him the importance of order and unity in composition, and taught him how to preserve a constant flow of melody in the middle parts.

Now, however, his health actually began to sink under his exertions, and the many privations to which his earnest application subjected him. His thoughts were exclusively devoted to the art by which he was enamoured, and all else was neglected. His business was neglected for it, and his health ruined. His father again remonstrated, and the young enthusiast renewed his promises of obedience; he for some days took more sleep, and paid more attention to his affairs; but in less than a month relapsed into his former habits, though he did also attend to his drawing, his geometry, and other business; but at the same time prosecuted his musical studies with all the ardour which his little remaining strength would permit.

In the year, 1783, having completed his probationary architectural drawing, he was admitted among the number of master builders. And now, for the first time, he received lessons, in counterpoint, from M. Fasch. ‘I have,’ he himself states, ‘made as much use of this excellent instruction as I possibly could, in the midst of my other occupations. To this worthy M. Fasch I am entirely indebted for whatever merit many of my compositions may possess.’

After alluding to three themas with variations of his composition, published at Berlin, and many songs, scattered in various publications, he adds, ‘I have besides composed several pieces of music for particular occasions. The best among these are a cantata upon the death of the emperor Friedrich II. in the year 1787, and another cantata upon the birthday of a beloved mother, in the year 1793. A variety of single arias and scenas, many of which I scarcely even can recollect, are not to be taken into account. The concerto for the tenor which I composed, in the year 1780, if it has merit, has on the other hand many faults, and is not theoretically correct. All the rest of my musical works are studies, consisting of fugued choral pieces and fugues, which I have never considered worthy of preservation. If I should hereafter be enabled to devote more time to my beloved art, I hope to indemnify the Friends of my Muse, if any such there be, for those works which from precipitance, or without any blame attaching to me, have already been brought before the public.’

Thus far only, M. Gerber states, ‘extend the particulars which M. Zelter had the kindness to furnish me with in 1793. But it is necessary to add a few explanatory observations. For the benefit of such of my readers as have no other idea of a master-builder, than that he must be begirt with a leathern apron, and armed with a trowel, I must remind them, in the first place, that M. Zelter’s tools consisted solely in a case of drawing instruments and a pen; and that no one can have any conception of his great, his important occupations, who has not had an opportunity of witnessing the solid taste, the grandeur and splendour, of the architecture of Berlin.’ How many an artist might, with a feeling of shame, look upon this pattern of activity, who, day after day, superintended the building of various great edifices; yet, nevertheless, ever bore in mind, with reference to music, the words of Horace, nulla dies sine linea. In order also to be as useful as possible when his fatiguing professional duties of the day were completed, he in his hours of relaxation, joined the singing academy of M. Fasch, and became one of its most active members; indeed, it may be said that he was M. Fasch’s right hand.

And when, in the year 1797, M. Gerber revisited Berlin[Pg 46] M. Zelter singly, at the piano-forte, directed the whole, while M. Fasch, then become aged and infirm, was most commonly a silent listener in one corner of the room. And this school, or society, performed before MM. Naumann, Himmel, and other distinguished composers, one of Naumann’s learned compositions written for them, (a Latin psalm,) and a part of Fasch’s masterpiece for four choirs. In the same year, too, M. Zelter conducted Graun’s Tod Jesu at the Opera House, in which the choruses were sung by the united members of Fasch’s society; the orchestra having consisted of the members of the Royal Chapel, and the best amateurs in Berlin.

The following are the titles of M. Zelter’s detached papers and compositions. On the representation of Gluck’s opera, Alceste, at the Berlin Opera House, from the letters of an artist, published in the fifth Number of the Journal, entitled Deutschland. Berlin, 1796. After many interesting observations upon the dramatic treatment of the story by Calsabigi, he remarks, ‘the conductor of the opera should always have the right to wield the helm of the vessel, because he is more likely to enter into the beauties of an excellent poem, than a poet is to understand anything of music, even what is meant by a dissonance.’ Analysis of a scene from Benda’s Romeo und Julie, in the first volume of the Lyceum of the Fine Arts. Berlin, 1797–8. Dance and aria from the opera Axur, with variations for the piano-forte.—La Malade, pièce caracteristique pour le Clavecin.—Schiller’s Ode an die Freude, (Ode to joy,) for the piano-forte. Seize chorales composées par M. M. Reichardt, Gürrlich, Zelter, &c. Trinklied (Drinking Song) of K. Müchler. Twelve songs with piano-forte accompaniment. The following greater vocal productions also are quoted in Rellstab’s catalogue. Aria di Bravura: Grato Flauto, &c., p. Soprano con Flauto concertato. Rondo a 6; Dove sei, mia bella nice, &c., p. Soprano con Flauto concertato. Fragment from Wieland’s Serafine in score; all of which were already written about the year 1790; and another of the same description from his celebrated cantata, already alluded to, on the death of the emperor Friedrich II.

The following works of his also have appeared in print:—Memoir of Carl Friedrich Christian Fasch, by C. F. Zelter, with a portrait; Berlin, 1801. Another set of twelve songs with piano-forte accompaniment. Der Taucher, (the Diver,) by Schiller, for the piano-forte. Collection of ballads and songs; books 1, 2, 3, 4. Johanna Sebus, for several voices, with piano-forte. He subsequently collected his gems of songs and arias of every description, and published them in numbers. There is also a Te Deum of his composition.

In 1809, Zelter was appointed, by the King, professor of music at the Berlin academy of arts and sciences; and as a proof that it was not a mere empty title conferred upon him, the King called him the very same year to Königsberg, to attempt the revival of a taste for church music, which had sunk to a very low ebb; a task for which he was eminently qualified. At the commencement of this year, too, a new society had been formed at Berlin, consisting of about twenty-four male members of the singing academy, under the name of The Liedertafel, (the Vocal Club,) of which Zelter was president. The members were divided into two bodies of tenors, and two of bases; they assembled once a month, and sang their songs, the poetry and music being of their own production, their president making his remarks on them. In fact, it was a revival, in a much improved form, of the guild of the old German ‘meister-sänger,’ and did no little credit to the state of cultivation, and the attainments of the dilettanti of Berlin.

ON BEETHOVEN’S OPINION OF CONTEMPORARY COMPOSERS.

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

Your last number contains some anecdotes of Beethoven, which must be interesting to every true lover of music. The opinions, however, of artists in regard to the works of others, are, from one cause or another, but too often tinctured by prejudice, and ought, therefore, to be received cautiously.—And I am induced to trouble you with these remarks in consequence of having read the opinions said to have been passed by that great master on the genius of Rossini and Weber. He is stated to have pronounced that ‘Rossini is a good scene painter, and nothing more.’ If the art of moving the mind by dramatic effect, either in music or poetry, rank no higher than that of a dauber of scenes, then is the observation applicable to Rossini, and equally so to Shakspeare.

To every unprejudiced person the motive of Beethoven’s comparison will be sufficiently obvious, and be easily pardoned on the score of disappointed feelings, and the comparative indifference to which it is to be feared he was unjustly doomed. But it is not to such that I would direct my observations. There is a numerous body of soi-disant amateurs and professional composers, who will receive as Gospel the casual remark of a mind enfeebled and irritated by misfortune and infirmity. The silly cry, once (in this country) so prevalent against Rossini, is not, among the ignorant and bigoted, yet wholly silent. And it is surely a grateful duty on the part of all admirers of his almost unparalleled genius to vindicate him against the cur-like assaults of his detractors. Let us not forget that in advocating the cause of Rossini, we are maintaining that of every young composer of talent—for the same spirit which prompts the pack to raise their ‘most sweet voices’ against him, would doubtless actuate them to cry down Beethoven himself, were he now beginning his career, and its blighting effects may, but too often, be noticed in the case of our native composers.

It may be asked, how Beethoven and Spohr escape? The answer is obvious. Beethoven is dead, and his reputation is securely established; while Spohr has much learning and a moderate portion of genius, and is not likely, therefore, to interfere with the solemn stupidity of our musical magnificos. I can remember, a few years back, hearing Beethoven’s symphony in C minor pronounced ‘an absurd piece of nonsense’ by one of the ignoramuses who now exalt it to the skies.[26]

[Pg 47]

ON CANON, BY L. VAN BEETHOVEN [27].

IN Canon, when written in the unison,—namely for like voices, or in the octave—the strictest imitation must be observed, from the first note to the last. But it may also be composed in all the other intervals, the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, and ninth, in which, however, exceptions and deviations necessarily occur sometimes. Here is the true arena for the tricks of art, and for plodding subtilty.

1. The terminating (or finite) canon, when the melody closes with a perfect cadence.

2. The endless canon, (or infinite) which always begins over again, and in which the parts leave off arbitrarily, at a half or a whole cæsure.

5. The Close Canon, when the coming in of the parts is only marked by signs, and the whole movement is written on in one staff, without rests.

6. The Open Canon, in which the parts are written one above the other, with the necessary rests before the appearance of each, therefore in the manner of a score.

8. The Double Canon, in four parts; the thrice-double, in six; and the four-times double, in eight.

9. The Canon Climax, (Polymorphus) the Circular Canon, the construction of which is explained by the name.

10. The Numerical and Enigmatic Canons, which, like everything that partakes of the nature of a riddle, are more easy to invent than to solve, and seldom yield the smallest compensation for the time and trouble bestowed on them. In former times people took a pride in racking their brains with such contrivances; the world is however grown wiser![28]

The Canon in the unison, for similar voices, is, properly speaking, nothing else than a complete duet, trio, quartet, &c., in which the parts come in one after the other, each commencing when the preceding one has finished the melody. The voice, or part, beginning second, is usually that which forms the base, and, conjoined with one or two parts, completes the whole. Example. [To which we have applied a stanza from Otway’s Enchantment.]

In the following manner it becomes a Close Canon, and the third part is written next after the first.[29][30]

In such alternation of the voices, the whole may be repeated as often as the singers please, or till the hearers are tired. As each must sing the whole quite through, the compass of the notes is to be well considered, so that no one lies too high or too low. As an Open Canon, this composition presents itself in the following form.

From the double bars, where the voices are united, they proceed in continued alternation.

Canon for Three Male Voices.
[To which, the composer having set no words to it, we have added a Grace, once in much use.]

N.B. It is better and more pleasing if the voices do not commence all at the same time. [This remark was unnecessary, as the voices in such canons never begin together.]

[The Author then gives the same Canon as a close and open one, but as these are similar in form to the first, it is not necessary to insert them.]

The same mode of treatment is adopted in writing canons of four or more parts, in unison.

[The Author has followed this observation by an example, but as it is not of an interesting kind, and exactly resembles in rule and order the preceding, we omit it.]

Canons in other intervals are more difficult of invention. In these it is usual to place the clefs of the several parts before the mark of time, in the order of their gradual succession; or to point out such order by means of figures, denoting the distance of the interval, placed above or below the note where it is intended that each part should commence [31]. See, for instance, the following four-part Canon, constructed on the lower fifth and lower octave.

[The Author gives this in score: we have reduced it to two staves to save space, and for the convenience of many who are not accustomed to music in parts. Beethoven leaves it without any termination: by means of the repeat the effect intended is produced, and thus a close is obtained. This will be found in score, with a Hallelujah, Amen, adapted to it, among the music of the present number.]

This, in the first way mentioned, would be written as a close Canon in the following manner—

By which those who understand the matter, will discover that the soprano commences; that at the second bar the alto follows in the lower fifth; at the fourth bar the tenor begins in the lower octave of the soprano; and finally that, at the fifth bar, the base comes in as lower fifth of the preceding part, or as lower octave of the alto. In the second way spoken of above, the same composition would have the following appearance—

The figures underneath indicate—5, the commencement of the alto in the lower fifth; 8, that of the tenor in the lower octave; and 12, that of the base voice in the Duodecima gravi.

[We have also reduced the above to two staves, for the reasons before assigned.]

More mystical still appears the Enigmatic Canon. In such, generally, are found neither signs, figures, nor letters, and frequently even no clef. The problem is a matter of mere keen guess work, and pondering and poring over it, till, with the subtilty of an Œdipus, one arrives at the truth, and the correct solution presents itself in harmonic purity. In such cases it is necessary to try the subject by transposing it into every higher and lower interval; by inverting it and casting it into contrary motion; by interpolating longer or shorter rests; by trying it backwards; by augmenting or diminishing the value of the notes; and even by applying the obsolete clefs, the mezzo-soprano, and baritone or tenor-base, in order to undo the Gordian knot; a task, however, which is, unfortunately, not to be accomplished in the easy manner resorted to by the son of the Macedonian Philip. And what good can result from all this? Multum clamoris, parum lanæ! Possibly I may try my hand at it one of these days, when I have nothing of a more reasonable nature to occupy my time. At present, thank Heaven! I am not in that predicament, and it will be a tolerably long while, I suspect, before I am.

THE ECCLESIASTICAL CHOIRS OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND.

No. VI.—ARMAGH, IRELAND.

THE city of Armagh is the ecclesiastical metropolis of Ireland, and owes its origin and pre-eminence to St. Patrick, the acknowledged apostle of Ireland, who built its cathedral and other religious edifices in the year 445. St. Patrick constituted Armagh the mistress and metropolis of Ireland, fixing there the Primatial See, of which he is generally supposed to have been the first bishop. But further information on the subject may be found in Stuart’s Historical Memoirs of Armagh.

The cathedral establishment of Armagh was incorporated in the tenth year of Charles I. by a charter drawn up by Archbishop Laud, granting certain lands (called Ballyboes) and impropriations for the continual performance of divine service. The most curious, or rather flagitious, part of this charter is, the power it gives to the Primate of Armagh to act as his own visitor; or, in other words, to be judge in all cases whenever the inferior members of the church may appeal against his authority, however unjustly exercised by himself, his agent, or commissioner; and he has the power to suspend, or even expel, any member of the choir at his pleasure,—the injured individual having no legal means whatever of seeking redress! After searching the records of many other establishments of this kind, nowhere do we find such an instance of clerical assumption; but it is worthy of Laud, and of the reign in which he was allowed to exercise other tyrannies of the most insulting, and grossest kind.

The establishment consists of a Dean and four Prebendaries, four Rural Deans, seven Vicars-Choral, an Organist, and eight Choristers, who perform divine service twice on Sundays, and once on Wednesdays and Fridays. In the cathedral are two organs; one by Father Smith, seldom used,—the other, a very superior instrument, by Snetzler. Formerly the organist and vicars-choral managed their own revenue, which, arising from town lands adjacent to the city, and from the renewal of leases, is often considerable; but latterly this, their own business, has been taken out of their hands. A commissioner, appointed by the primate, together with the agent, who is also an officer of the archbishop, manage this between them, irresponsible to the vicars-choral, and under no control but that of their diocesan, who has the power of suspending or expelling any complainant by his own authority; and, let it be recollected, without the unfortunate sufferer having the power of appeal!

The salary of the organist and master of the boys is 160l., to which are added a large house and garden. The salary of the vicars is 90l. a year, with house and garden. This sum cannot increase, but may diminish. And now, when any vicar dies, it is the scandalous practice to appoint a deputy, or assistant, in his stead, who receives about half the salary: it is, therefore, unnecessary to say that the duty is performed in a manner correspondent to the abridged emoluments of the office. The choristers are boarded and educated in the house of the organist; and, when their voices change, they are apprenticed out to some trade, or retained as assistants, if capable. Some attempt to obtain a livelihood by teaching singing, &c.

Not the least remarkable feature in this establishment is the set of orders and statutes drawn up for the government of the vicars-choral. The two following will show the spirit in which they are conceived:—

14th.—All the vicars shall be liable to the archbishop’s visitation, and shall appear in the chapter-room before the archbishop, or his visitor, when they are thereunto called, upon all occasions; and if the archbishop or his visitor, in some special causes that concern the good of the church, urge any vicar to declare his knowledge, and the said vicar refuse to declare the same, he shall be urged thereto by all lawful means, and if he shall then refuse, he shall, after three admonitions, be expelled.

‘It is further ordered and enacted, that the vicars-choral shall not at any time presume to grant away, alien, demise, let, or dispose of any parcel of the lands, tenements, or hereditaments, which they do now possess and enjoy, in right of their being vicars-choral of the cathedral church of St. Patrick, Armagh, to any person or persons, bodies politic or corporate, for any greater or longer estate or term than the term of one year, without the consent, allowance, and direction of the archbishop, under pain of immediate expulsion and deprivation for the same, to every such of the aforesaid vicars who shall transgress therein.’

The foregoing proves beyond contradiction the justice and policy of abolishing such an ecclesiastical tyranny as that of Armagh; and, doubtless, the bill proposed by Lord Grey will get rid of other nuisances as great, though not so notorious, as those which are so glaring in the church of the primate of Ireland.

CANTERBURY.

THE Choral School of Canterbury cathedral is coeval with the establishment of the national church, St. Augustine having introduced the chanted service still retained in our cathedrals. The science of music was universally cultivated by the clergy, and so completely identified with reli[Pg 51]gious offices, that, in the language of our ancestors, to sing and to pray were used as synonymous terms.

At the reformation Henry VIII. new-modelled and regulated the cathedral, and gave to the church a code of statutes, which were afterwards modified by Archbishop Laud, and confirmed by Charles I. The fifth chapter of this code determines the number of persons to be maintained out of the revenues granted to the cathedral for this purpose;—they are,

The choristers are to be appointed by the dean (or, in his absence, the sub-dean and chapter); they are to be ‘of tender age, with clear voices and musical talent.’

‘To instruct these boys,’ says the statute, ‘and especially to train them in decorum of manners, and to teach them the art of singing, and to play skilfully upon musical instruments, one clerk shall be chosen, of good conduct and character, and a proficient in music, who shall carefully employ his time in the performance of divine service, and in playing upon the organ, and who shall also be occupied in the care and education of the choristers.

‘And because it may happen that one of the minor-canons or clerks may be better qualified than the organist to instruct the choristers, the dean, &c. shall have the power to elect either the organist or such of the minor clerks as may appear most worthy to perform this duty; which if he neglect, let him, after a third admonition, be deposed from his office, by the authority of those by whom he was elected.’

It also appears that the children of the Chapel Royal, when their voices had changed, were frequently sent to the Grammar School belonging to the cathedral to complete their education; for Laud had been dean of the King’s Chapel, and as such had the superintendence of the choristers belonging to the royal household, and retained an interest in their welfare when no longer officially connected with them. The statute runs thus:—

‘And so often as the dean of our Chapel Royal shall signify to the Dean and Chapter of our church of Canterbury that he will send from our chapel a chorister, who has served there till the breaking of his voice, to study grammar in our church, we will that the Dean and Chapter elect and admit, without fraud or collusion [the king or the archbishop could have had no very favourable opinion of the integrity of the dignitaries of his church], the chorister so nominated.’

The musical establishment of this cathedral at present consists of 6 minor-canons, at about 100l. per annum, with a good house, and a living soon after their election; an organist at 100l. per annum, with a house; 12 lay-vicars at from 40l. to 50l. per annum; and 10 choristers, or boys, at 6l. per annum.

The service is daily. The choristers are taught (or ought to be) singing three times a week in the church, where there is a musical school-room; and learn reading, writing, and arithmetic, at private schools, at the expense of the church; the latter being a regulation lately introduced by the Dean and Chapter, who, probably, having a foresight of what seems now near at hand, thought it prudent to do something out of their large revenues for the active and useful members of the church. With this view they have also, we are told, augmented the salaries of the lay-clerks, by the liberal addition of 10l. The time, however, is fast approaching when the real labourers in the service of religion will be paid according to their work; then will our church be better served and more respected.

MEMOIRS OF DR. BURNEY,

Arranged from his own Manuscripts, from Family Papers, and from Personal Recollections. By his Daughter, Madame D’ARBLAY. Moxon, Bond-street, 9 vols. 8vo.

HAD we supposed, after so long a delay, that Madame D’Arblay really meant to publish a life of her father, we certainly should have delayed our memoir of Dr. Burney till enabled to profit by so authentic an account as the present, which was written under advantages that only one of his family could have possessed, and which give an interest to it that could not have been imparted by any other pen.

In the year 1782, while yet in his prime, and possessing in full vigour his intellectual faculties, Dr. Burney contemplated and even commenced writing memoirs of his own life. An introduction which he began to draw up for his intended work, says, ‘Perhaps few have been better enabled to describe, from an actual survey, the manners and customs of the age in which he lived, than myself; ascending from those of the most humble cottagers, and lowest mechanics, to the first nobility, and most elevated personages with whom circumstances, situation, and accident, at different periods of my life, have rendered me familiar. Oppressed and laborious husbandmen; insolent and illiberal yeomanry; overgrown farmers; generous and hospitable merchants; men of business and men of pleasure; men of letters; men of science; artists; sportsmen and country squires; dissipated and extravagant voluptuaries; gamesters; ambassadors; statesmen; and even sovereign princes, I have had opportunities of examining in almost every point of view: all these it is my intention to display in their respective situations; and to delineate their virtues, vices, and apparent degrees of happiness and misery.’

It must be acknowledged that this bill of fare is marked by self-confidence, and that it would have required no common observation and talent to fulfil the promises held out. Unfortunately we are left in the dark how far Dr. Burney could have kept his word, for the plan appears to have been abandoned as rapidly as it was conceived, and never returned to till the year 1807, when the doctor was already an octogenarian, and a paralytic attack had perhaps acted on his mind as it certainly had on his body. From this time, however, he is said to have com[Pg 52]posed many manuscript volumes of various sizes, containing the history of his life, from his cradle nearly to his grave.—Whether in these memoirs the doctor displayed the characters, and entered into the concerns of the cottagers, mechanics, husbandmen, yeomanry, farmers, or even artists (of the same profession) according to the promises of his own prospectus, the present work affords us no means of judging: it is essentially, and from title-page to colophon, a book of the drawing-room and the boudoir; it is conversant alone with the Corinthian order of society, the porcelain clay of humanity; not an individual undistinguished either by rank, title, fashion, or literary fame, is judged worthy the honours of the sitting, and although the enumeration of dinner and evening parties, visitings and conversazioni, is far from scanty, yet, for all that appears in these three volumes, the historian of music may never have formed an acquaintance with, or received at his table, a brother musician in the course of his long life; except, indeed, some foreign singers, of whose private performances at his house we shall presently have to extract an account.

A list of some dozen celebrated names is given, indeed, as always happy to accept Dr. Burney’s invitations, and assist at his musical parties; but of the private familiar intercourse which must have taken place between him and his fellow-professors, we have not a trace. If this is his own omission, we must say it is in bad taste; he may have wished towards the close of his life to be considered rather as a literary man and a wit than as a musician; but, if so, he forgot that it was the union of the two characters which rendered his case remarkable, and called so much of public attention to him.

The memoirs, however, form a very amusing book, full of anecdotes, which if sometimes a little too long, and at others scarcely of importance enough to have merited recording at this distance of time, are always lively and well told, and are the more interesting, as they introduce the reader to the familiar society of Dr. Johnson, Garrick, Burke, Bruce the traveller, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and the whole constellation of wits and literary characters both male and female, which shone with such lustre from fifty to sixty years ago. The picture of parental and family attachment, too, which these volumes display, is in the highest degree charming in itself, and honorable to the parties concerned, who must all have been highly amiable to have been thus, without exception, beloved and loving.

Our readers are aware that Dr. Burney’s first introduction to London was as an articled scholar to Dr. Arne, who appears to have given him very little instruction, but to have, on the other hand, worked him very hard in the monotonous drudgery of music copying; nevertheless, the young apprentice, drawing upon his own resources, both of genius and industry, contrived to compose anonymously a part of the music for a revival of Thomson’s Masque of Alfred, and two other small pieces, a burletta of Robin Hood, and a pantomime called Queen Mab. From this unworthy servitude the doctor was at length rescued before the expiration of his articles, by an event so odd in itself, so creditable to the good sense and manly feeling of two, at least, of the parties concerned in it, and so well told by the authoress, that we extract her account at length.

A Mr. Fulke Greville, a near relation of Lord Warwick, and a man of large fortune and high fashion,—

Of Mr. Greville, young Burney soon became a confidential companion; he accompanied his patron into all companies; was introduced to all his friends and associates; and, of course, made many connexions that were highly valuable in after life. After Mr. Greville’s marriage, Burney still continued to reside in the family, and was to have accompanied it on a foreign tour, but love had by this time taken possession of his heart, and instead of travelling on the continent, he, while still in his minority, married his first wife, Miss Esther Sleepe, a lady, whose personal charms and genuine worth are beautifully enshrined by the eloquence and affection of her daughter.

The account given of Dr. Burney’s first settlement in London after his marriage, and of his migration to Lynn, affords us no opportunity of altering or adding, in any material point, to the biographical article in our number for last October. His residence in Norfolk was fruitful in new and valuable connexions, and contributed to the full restoration of his health. It was while thus an exile from the capital and its circles, however, that Mr. Burney laid the foundation of his intimacy with Dr. Johnson; an intimacy which never suffered interruption or diminution, and ended but with the life of the latter. Burney had always been an enthusiastic admirer of Johnson’s writings, and when his dictionary was announced, exerted himself so strenuously in its favour throughout his Norfolk circuit, that he soon collected a little list of subscribers, which afforded him an opportunity of expressing his admiration to the object of it; and the following letter made the opening to a connexion he always considered as one of the greatest honours of his life.

In 1760, Mr. Burney returned to London, and fixed his residence in Poland-street, soon collecting round him a circle of pupils, in the highest degree encouraging to his prospects. The anxiety displayed in this part of the Memoir to satisfy the reader that Poland-street was not then the vulgar despised thoroughfare that it is now, but that even dukes and right honourable ladies shared it with Dr. Burney and his family, is rather amusing; but we are too speedily called to a much more serious subject, the death of the first Mrs. Burney, who appears to have been most tenderly loved, and most deeply regretted by[Pg 54] her husband. After a widowhood of six years’ duration, however, Mr. Burney entered a second time into the pale of matrimony with a Mrs. Stephen Allen, a lady who was at the head of society in Lynn, while the Burneys resided there, and had been the intimate friend of the first Mrs. Burney.

The next musical record of the doctor’s life, while it obliges us to correct a passage in our own Memoir, awakens something like a painful feeling. We have stated what has hitherto been the received account, that the idea of the General History of Music suggested itself to Dr. Burney, and that the foundation of his collections for that task were laid, during his residence at Lynn. From these Memoirs it appears that it was not till 1769 that Dr. Burney had any idea of undertaking such a work. Now this revives, and seems to give some countenance to the complaint of Sir John Hawkins’s friends, that it was undertaken in direct rivalry to the learned knight’s work, which, though not published till some years after, the literary world well knew that he had long been employed on it. The immediate result of this plan was the two Musical Tours to Italy and Germany. And here we must express our regret and disappointment at not finding one word in the Memoirs relative to these journies, except a story, in which we own we can see no joke, that on his return from one of them the Doctor was so exhausted with sea-sickness, that when the packet reached Dover, instead of going ashore, he went to sleep, and awoke just in time to find himself half way over to Calais again. The reason given for this omission; viz. that the Doctor published detailed accounts of them during his lifetime, we venture to submit, is no reason at all; to say nothing of the books referred to being out of print, and consequently out of the reach of a majority of readers, these tours form important eras in his literary and professional life, and an abstract of them at least should surely have found a place in his Memoirs, except the work now before as is intended only as a contribution towards the labours of some person who shall hereafter compile a complete life of Dr. Burney.

He had been so pleased with the Conservatorios or Musical Schools of the Continent, that very soon after his return he made strenuous efforts to establish a similar foundation in London. He proposed to the directors of the Foundling Hospital to engraft his plan on their institution and select the pupils from the objects of that charity; but notwithstanding the friendly assistance of Sir Charles Whitworth, the president, it was eventually negatived by the general body, and the Doctor gave up the attempt.

The History of Music procured Dr. Burney also the acquaintance of Bruce, the celebrated Abyssinian traveller, who had brought home with him a drawing, made on the spot, of the Theban harp, as beautiful in its execution as in its form, though copied from a model at least 3000 years old. This led to two or three interviews, first at the house of a musical friend, then at the Doctor’s own residence. These are described in letters from the authoress, then very young, to a Mr. Crisp, her father’s oldest friend. The letters do infinite credit to the young lady’s quick observation of manners, and her power of graphic and lively description, and prove her command of her pen. They are, however, too long for quotation; and the parts really relating to Mr. Bruce are so interspersed with the complete details of long tea-table and after-supper conversations, that it is no easy task to pick them out. The following description, however, of the great traveller’s personal appearance, will give our readers some idea of the powers of the writer:—

took place at the tea-table, of Mrs. Strange, to which my mother, by appointment, had introduced her Lynn friends, Mr. and Mrs. Turner, who were extremely curious to see Mr. Bruce. My dear father was to have escorted us; but that provoking Marplot, commonly called Business, came, as usual, in the way, and he could only join us afterwards.

The Man-Mountain, and Mr. and Mrs. Turner, were already arrived; and no one else was invited, or, at least, permitted to enter.

Mr. Bruce, as we found, when he arose—which he was too stately to do at once—was placed on the largest easy chair; but which his vast person covered so completely, back and arms, as well as seat, that he seemed to have been merely placed on a stool; and one was tempted to wonder who had ventured to accommodate him so slightly. He is the tallest man you ever saw in your life—at least, gratis. However, he has a very good figure, and is rather handsome; so that there is nothing alarming, or uncomely, or I was going to say, ungenial—but I don’t think that is the word I mean—in his immense and authoritative form.

My mother was introduced to him, and placed by his side; but, having made her a cold though civilish bow, he took no further notice even of her being in the room. I, as usual, glided out of the way, and got next to Miss Strange, who is agreeable and sensible: and who, seeing me, I suppose, very curious upon the subject, gave me a good deal of information about Man-Mountain.

As he is warmly attached to Mrs. Strange and her family, he spends all his disengaged evenings at their house, where, when they are alone, he is not only chatty and easy, but full of comic and dry humour; though, if any company enters, he sternly, or gloutingly, Miss Strange says, shuts up his mouth, and utters not a word—except, perhaps, to her parrot, which, I believe, is a present from himself. Certainly, he does not appear more elevated above the common race in his size, than in his ideas of his own consequence. Indeed, I strongly surmise, that he is not always without some idea how easy it would be to him—and perhaps how pleasant—in case any one should dare to offend him, to toss a whole company of such pigmies as the rest of mankind must seem to him, pell-mell down stairs,—if not out of the window.

There is some excuse, nevertheless, for this proud shyness, because he is persuaded that nobody comes near him but either to stare at him as a curiosity, or to pick his brains for their own purposes: for, when he has deigned to behave to people as if he considered himself as their fellow-creature, every word that has been drawn from him has been printed in some newspaper or magazine, which, as he intends to publish his travels himself, is abominably provoking, and seems to have made him suspicious of some dark design, or some invidious trick, when anybody says to him “How do you do, Sir?” or “Pray, Sir, what’s o’clock?”

And, after all, if his nature in itself is as imperious as his person and air are domineering, it is hardly fair to expect that having lived so long among savages should have softened his manners.

There was, however, no conversation. Mr. Bruce’s grand air, gigantic height, and forbidding brow, awed everybody into silence except Mrs. Strange, who, with all her wit and powers, found it heavy work to talk without reply.

[Pg 55]

VOCAL SOCIETY.

The general effect of this evening’s performance was not equal to the last: in regard to variety no fault can be found, for in a concert of nineteen pieces, we find the compositions of fifteen different authors, indicating a strong desire to suit the inclinations, and meet the wishes of the subscribers. The concerted pieces were by far the most effective, and, generally speaking, much the best done. The noble Kyrie of Leo is a magnificent specimen of that style of writing; it was, perhaps, too long to repeat, but we are persuaded it would have been done much better a second time; such music absolutely requires well rehearsing in order to go smooth, which is the necessary consequence of the performers being thoroughly conversant in what they have to do. The Madrigals were admirably sung, and encored as before, par acclamation. No. 5, by Ward, we consider as without an equal; it is, indeed, a matchless production. We hope, another season, to see a more convenient plan adopted in the mode of giving the time; it could not possibly be intrusted to abler hands than Mr. Turle; but owing to the position in which he stands, he can be seen only by a small part of the orchestra, and is of necessity driven to make himself heard, by those who cannot observe his motions. This materially interferes with the pleasure of the audience. The Maestro should be seen by every performer, but not heard. We can with propriety extend this observation to the instrumental part of the orchestra, beseeching both leader and conductor to abstain from such merciless stamping of feet as occurred during the performance of most of the full pieces. We notice in the present, as well as in the preceding concert, two compositions of Mr. Bishop, during the evening: this, we think, more than falls to his share; for however good his music may be, we cannot help recollecting many great and mighty names of antiquity, whose productions the musical public stand no chance of hearing, except at such concerts as these—need we mention Stradella, Steffani, Lotti, Luca Marenzio, cum multis aliis?

We learn from the papers distributed to the subscribers in the room this evening, a fact of which we were before ignorant; that the affairs of the society are managed by a committee of members, consisting of the following gentlemen:—Mr. Bellamy, Mr. T. Cooke, Mr. Horncastle, Mr. Hawkins, Mr. C. Taylor, Mr. E. Taylor, and Mr. Turle. We presume these gentlemen have the selection of the music brought forward for the evening’s performance; and they have executed their task, hitherto, with great and deserved credit to themselves. Called upon, however, in our critical capacity, to record our sentiments with impartiality and even-handed justice, we are bound to observe, that, unless the members cordially co-operate to give effect to the exertions of the committee, much injury may arise to the reputation of the society. The opening piece of the evening will explain our meaning; it is a fine specimen of Marcello’s very peculiar style of writing, for producing which the committee merit our thanks; but it was very imperfectly done, impressing us with a belief that many of the singers had never been present at a rehearsal of it; without which, and repeated rehearsals too, such music will never go well. We confess for ourselves, that we should have preferred Dr. Garth’s adaptation to Mrs. Ord’s words, “May the Lord Jehovah hear thee,” &c.; the per[Pg 56]formers would have better understood what they were about, and the general effect would have been improved. The glee-singing this evening was all that could be wished; not a note of the piano-forte jarred upon our ear, and we have great pleasure in stating that the glees Nos. 2, 8, 11, and 15, were as admirably performed as the nicest ear could possibly desire. No. 8 was encored, and most deservedly so. The madrigals Nos. 4 and 13 were both by the same composer: this we think scarcely judicious; for though both are first rate-productions, yet with such ample stores from which to select, it ought to have been avoided; it is partly owing to this circumstance, doubtless, that No. 13 was suffered to pass without an encore, which the first (No. 4.) received. Neither on the present nor last evening did we observe Mr. Braham or Mr. Phillips in the orchestra; owing probably to their theatrical engagements; their absence was certainly a great loss. We hope to hear more of Henry Purcell’s music at these concerts. There is a divine trio or rather dialogue between Saul, the Witch of Endor, and Samuel, which, if properly rehearsed, would indeed be a rich treat to those who understand that admirable composer’s writings.

LORD HENLEY AND THE CATHEDRAL SERVICE.

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

Since the days of the good bishop of Lichfield, who adopted as his motto the truly Christian sentiment, ‘Serve God, and be cheerful,’ it may be questioned whether the musical parts of our church service, ‘chanting and all anthems,’ have ever had a more effectual supporter than the noble Master in Chancery, whose report on the subject called forth the pleasant jeu d’esprit, which was copied into your last number from the Times of the 26th ult. A few years ago, the deans and dignitaries, the canons and prebendaries, the fellows and chaplains, of our cathedral and collegiate churches, were among the first to set the example of depreciating the service in which they were engaged. Lord Henley, and those who echo his opinion, have happily aroused the spirit of the church-dormant; these duties, lately so unimportant, are suddenly invested with an awful and hallowed character, and a few extracts from some of the numerous pamphlets which have lately appeared in defence of these venerable establishments may be interesting to such of your readers as are friends to church discipline, church architecture, and church music [32].

Upon the question, as to the right of abolishing Cathedral institutions, (observes Mr. Pusey, p. 102,) as far as this is a question of law, I would wish to speak with especial diffidence, since the laws do not belong to my profession; except thus far, that it is the concern of all ministers of Christ to urge, that the immutable laws of justice should be observed.... About the origin of the property of Cathedral bodies there is no question; nor, indeed, can there be. One need only turn to any authentic accounts of the institution of Cathedrals, to see (what is, indeed, true of all Church property) that it was uniformly given, not by public, but by private piety.... The question becomes not a legal, but an historical one: the legal principle is granted, that the property can only be disposed of in accordance with the ‘clear will of the donor.’[33] It only remains to inquire what that will was. This, unquestionably, was not the direct religious instruction of the people, but the formation of establishments wherein ministers might be trained to their duties, and Christian studies encouraged. These foundations were originally given for the promotion of pious learning, schools being on this account, in every case, annexed to these establishments.... It would appear then, that neither at the original institution, nor at time of the Reformation, was it intended that the Cathedral clergy should be what they have now mostly become, a parochial, or as this class has been over-narrowly called, the ‘working clergy;’ as if the labours of a literary clergy were less continuous or less exhausting, or as if the annals of our Church did not present as many cases of those who had fallen martyrs to her service in this way, as in her more direct ministrations. The reform, in truth, which is needed to restore these institutions, ‘according to the will of the donor,’ is exactly the contrary to what is now on different sides proposed. The members of our chapters have too little of the leisure which it was intended they should have. They have mostly important, some very extensive, and ill endowed cures. They have no more repose than is allowed to every civil officer; they have none for such works as our ancestors produced. In truth the clergy are already too exclusively of one class: we have not sufficient labourers for a field, which becomes day by day more important, and whose importance they well know, who are so anxious to destroy these institutions. Fas est et ab hoste doceri. When those who have no religion in themselves are so eager, under pretence of furthering religion, to destroy those bulwarks, it may to us, if we will not blind ourselves, be an evidence of their value. This, however, is certain, that estates or the tithes which were bestowed upon these bodies, were not given for the purposes of providing a parochial ministry, otherwise they would have been given to the places themselves, not to these corporations. Under whatever plea then it may be attempted to apply the property of any ecclesiastical corporation to this purpose, and divert it from those to which its donors destined it, it must be on some other ground than that of the ‘clear will of the donor.’

‘Remarks on the prospective and past Benefits of Cathedral Institutions [34],’ p. 102–113. This excellent pamphlet, and one by the Rev. George Townsend, prebendary of Durham, on lay impropriations, will be read with much pleasure by all the loyal and true-hearted members of the Church of England as by law established. Mr. Perceval thus concludes his ‘LETTER TO LORD HENLEY:’

I will not attempt to follow the maze of happy thoughts which have crowded upon your lordship’s brain, and been committed to paper, apparently as rapidly as they occurred to you, the thought of one moment overturning that which went before; but I cannot forbear saying one word of defence on a[Pg 57] subject which, like many others, has met your merciless condemnation: I mean our Cathedral music. At page 35, you speak of the ‘coldness and formality of Cathedral service,’ and in a note, style ‘chanting and all anthems, solos, duets, &c., relics of popery. Have a care, my Lord, or you will establish the truth of a claim put forth by the church of Rome, which sounds most grating and offensive in the ears of the English Christians, to be considered the mother, and, therefore, mistress of all other churches. For these modes of singing the praises of our great Creator, which move your pious indignation, are, indeed, relics; but, if I mistake not, relics of ‘Jerusalem which is above,’ and which we have the warrant of the Holy Ghost for styling the mother of us all [35].

The Mosaic church was, as your lordship knows, founded upon the model of the heavenly one; ‘for see,’ said he, ‘that thou make all things according to the pattern showed thee on the Mount.’[36] In this church we find solos, duets, and choruses, introduced into the service of the Almighty, of which the solo of Miriam [37], and the chorus of the women whom she answered, and the duet of Deborah and Barak [38], are sufficient instances; while the whole frame and composition of the Psalms, in their parallelisms and alternations, leave no doubt of the correctness of the conclusions to which Lowth and Cleaver, and Horsley and Jebb, and others, have been led, that they were composed for alternate recitations, like our cathedral chanting; but we may go somewhat higher. It has pleased Almighty God occasionally to encourage his servants in this life by partially withdrawing the clouds which conceal the inhabitants of heaven from our view, and permitting us to catch a glimpse of their employment. We find the Holy Seraphim engaged in an occupation, the feeble imitation of which, by mortal man upon earth, has called forth your severe reprobation. Yes, my lord, they are actually described as ‘chanting’ the praises of Jehovah by alternate movements. So Isaiah teaches us: ‘I saw the Lord sitting upon his throne, high and lifted up. Above it stood the Seraphim; and one cried unto another and said, Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of Hosts! the whole earth is full of his glory.’

Oh! my Lord! if your own heart does not glow at the hearing of those heavenly melodies, do not envy those, who are formed of happier temperament, the enjoyment and benefit which they draw from them. Many a weary soul, I doubt not, has been refreshed and awakened by them, which else might have remained drowsy and indolent. Many a chord, by means of them, has been struck in a sinner’s breast, which will vibrate to all eternity with the praises of the Lamb. The great and good departed have recorded their sense of the value of them. It is related of the pious George Herbert, that he went usually twice every week to the cathedral church in Salisbury; and at his return would say, that his time spent in prayer and cathedral music elevated his soul, and was his heaven upon earth. But, alas! all these things, which have cheered and solaced God’s servants in their weary pilgrimage, are about to be removed. That fatal and deadly storm, which sour puritanism and envious schism combined to raise against the fairest portion of God’s heritage, is about once more to spread its desolating force on our land; the church of England once more to be overthrown and trampled upon by those whom she admitted into her fold and nourished with her fruits; our pleasant places to be laid waste, ‘the carved work thereof to be broken down with axes and hammers.’ Already are the traitors within and the foes without, arranging their watchwords, and the self-same notes resounded, which were echoed at the former onslaught. Again is our cathedral service, which we copy from the Seraphim, cried down as a relic of popery; and the book of Common Prayer, whose almost every petition has been used by Christian Saints for upwards of twelve hundred years, denounced as an abomination. These are signs of the times which there is no mistaking. There is one ground of comfort, my lord, in all this, which you will rejoice to hear. The desolation cannot last for ever. When the whirlwind has swept by, and they who thought to ride upon it are blown into oblivion, then shall we again lift up our own heads. Either we shall witness the restoration and hear the voice of joy and gladness once more in our dwellings, see the waste places rebuilt, again hear the pealing organ swell its note of praise, and the merry bells ring out their jocund sound, or our pilgrimage will be over, and we shall have exchanged, through the Redeemer’s blood, our earthly choirs for celestial. For your lordship’s sake, I trust that, ere that time arrives, a sounder judgment will possess you in these matters, lest, haply, when the heavenly portals are flung open to receive you, and the sound of the celestial concert strikes your ear, ‘the harpers harping with their harps’, the clang of the archangel’s trumpet, some clear-voiced angel leading the hymns, the Seraphim responding to each other with the Trisagion, and the full chorus of the ‘hundred and forty-four thousand’[39] pouring forth that song, which none but they can learn; your heart be chilled within you; and you show the superior soundness and purity of your piety by turning away in disgust from such ‘papal’ abominations. There is a sentence of the son of Sirach,—‘Blame not before thou hast examined the truth; understand first, and then rebuke.’ Perhaps, if that sentence had been present to your lordship’s recollection, your ill-considered publication would never have seen the light.—p. 26–31.

Having shown you, ex cathedrâ, the prospective and past benefits of these institutions, originally designed ‘for the promotion of pious learning,’ I am tempted to add a few words on their actual state, and to inquire how far the intentions of the founders have been carried into effect. I will, for the present, confine myself to a single foundation.

The C—— church of——, like most of our great ecclesiastical corporations, is of Anglo-Saxon origin; but the latest statutes were given by Queen Elizabeth towards the close of her reign. They are, consequently, free from any mixture of superstitious ceremonies, and every member of the chapter, on his election, takes an oath to obey them. These statutes, after setting forth among the principal objects of the foundation, the instruction of youth, and the relief of the poor, ‘juventutis in veritate, in virtute, ac bonis literis institutionem, et pauperum perpetuam sustentationem,’ provide for the maintenance and liberal education of six choristers ‘ad minus.’ And the royal legislator does not appoint a fixed annual payment for this purpose, which, in so many instances, from the diminished value of money, has brought ruin upon similar establishments; but, with a prescient regard to the possibility of such a deterioration, it is expressly ordained, that a proper allowance shall be made to the master [40]. Their maintenance has been discontinued.

The music school, within living memory, was a large and lofty room, adjoining the church, and in a corresponding style of architecture. The chapter, in a recent alteration, having determined to fit up a handsome library, took possession, without scruple, of the school-room belonging to the choristers, and the boys have lately received their singing lessons in the church, the chapter giving themselves no concern about any other instructions.

The statutes require that the choristers shall be supplied with a consistent dress. This is no longer provided; and the gentlemen forming the chapter would think themselves disgraced by such a set of raggamuffins about their stables or their dog-kennels, as they allow to officiate in the church; while their very rags are held to be a sufficient reason for excluding them from their own well-endowed grammar school.

Several valuable scholarships and fellowships, in the university of——, are tenable by such persons only as have served as choristers in the C—— church at——. Of this endowment the bona fide choristers are deprived. The members of the chapter, and the neighbouring gentlemen, enter their sons as choristers; they appear for a few Sundays in surplices, and are thus enabled to claim the exhibition.

The cemetery is disfigured with posts and lines, and serves as a drying-ground for the inhabitants of the claustral precincts; while the nave of the church is the favourite resort of their children and nursery-maids, who are permitted to disturb the congregation, should there be one, by their noisy sports.

The patronage of the chapter is very extensive; the tithes of the whole district, for many miles in circuit, belong almost exclusively to them; they unite in their own persons the fullest legislative, executive, and visitatorial powers; and the impoverished churches, and vicars, and parishes, within their jurisdiction, afford the same indisputable evidence of apathy and neglect.

I am prepared to fill up the outline by instances of individual meanness. But I forbear. The parties more immediately concerned cannot fail to recognize the picture; for I hope and trust there is no second example in England, where the wills and charters and statutes of founders and benefactors are so utterly disregarded.

THE SONG OF ‘MAD TOM OF BEDLAM.’

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

In the extracts from the ‘Diary of a Dilettante’ in your Harmonicon for February, the song of ‘Mad Tom,’ sung by Braham, is mentioned, both there and in the bills of the Vocal Concert, as the composition of Purcell, but I think I shall make it appear that he has no claim to be considered the author of that composition.

In a manuscript collection of Airs for the Virginals, once in my possession, which bears the date of 1638, there is one called ‘The Man in the Moon,’ a copy of which I have subjoined; and in a work entitled ‘Choice Ayres, Songs, and Dialogues to the Theorbo Lute and Base Viol, 1675,’ it is to be found ascribed to Henry Lawes, and I have no doubt, correctly. The latter part of it as now sung, from the words ‘In my triumphant chariot’ to the end, is the composition of Thomas Hayden, composer of the well known duet, ‘As I saw fair Clora.’ The words, we learn from Walton’s Angler, are by Mr. William Basse, one that made the choice songs of ‘THE HUNTER IN HIS CAREER,’ and ‘TOM OF BEDLAM.’

We give admission with pleasure to our correspondent’s letter, because it may lead to further inquiry, and ultimately enable us to assign the song of ‘Tom of Bedlam’ to the right owner. If his memory does not deceive him—for it will be observed that the writer speaks of a collection formerly in his possession—the air he has sent us from the Virginal Book must have been the foundation of the song in question; indeed the two differ but little in melody: but the original is so incorrect, or the copyist has transcribed it in so inaccurate a manner, that we cannot venture to insert it, till it has been carefully collated; a task which, perhaps, our correspondent may yet have the means of performing.

The air, we must say, bears no marks whatever of being the composition of Henry Lawes: his style is essentially different in every respect. It has always been given to Purcell, and in a volume published by Walsh more than a century ago, under the title of MR. HENRY PURCELL’s Favourite Songs, out of his most celebrated ORPHEUS BRITANNICUS, and the rest of his works, this very air, called ‘Tom a’ Bedlam,’ is included. We never before heard that the added part is by Hayden,—whose name, by the way, was George, not Thomas—but very probably our correspondent is right.

As to the words, there can be little doubt on the subject, though some have, most erroneously, supposed them to be Tom D’Urfey’s. But honest Izaak Walton is an authority, who makes PISCATOR (i. e. himself) say, ‘I’ll promise you I’ll sing a song that was made at my request, by Mr. William Basse, one that made the choice songs of the Hunter in his cariere, and of Tom of Bedlam, and many others of note.’ (5th edit. 1676) Dr. Percy, in his Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, inserts the entire song, under the name of OLD TOM OF BEDLAM, and thinks that it was written about the beginning of the 17th century. ‘It is worth attention,’ he observes, ‘that the English have more songs and ballads on the subject of madness, than any of their neighbours. Whether it is that we are more liable to this calamity than other nations, or whether our native gloominess hath peculiarly recommended subjects of this cast to our writers, the fact is incontestable, as any one may be satisfied, who will compare the printed collections of French, Italian songs, &c., with those in our language.’ (ii. 348.)

Ritson likewise, in his collection, gives the whole song, and also the melody, down to the line, ‘To bring me my senses again,’ and, without naming the author of the words, ascribes the music to Purcell. (ii. 162, and iii. 290, 2nd Edit. 1813.)

[Pg 59]

REVIEW OF NEW MUSIC.

EVENINGS IN GREECE, the Poetry by THOMAS MOORE, Esq., the Music composed and selected by HENRY R. BISHOP and Mr. MOORE. 2 vols. large 4to. (Power.)

THE design of the present work is as praiseworthy as new: it is to connect together, Mr. Moore tells us, ‘a series of songs by a thread of poetical narrative,’ the object being ‘to combine recitation with music, so as to enable a greater number of persons to take a share in the performance, by enlisting, as readers, those who may not feel themselves competent as singers.’

We have often reflected with some surprise on the little effort made to vary the pleasures of domestic society. In a great, wealthy metropolis, where so many thousands congregate daily, who have only to enjoy themselves,—whose sole occupation is to devise means for passing time agreeably,—it might be imagined that some ingenuity would be exerted to so diversify the character of social amusement as to prevent that ennui which is less frequently complained of than felt. Music, no doubt, is a great resource; but those not actually engaged in it, who are not either singing or playing, who are mere listeners, feel a long evening rather heavy when filled up by a constant succession of song, or even an alternation of song and sonata, more especially if such pieces are, as too commonly happens, of the fashionable kind. Dancing is exclusively for the young; though really the quadrille, solemnly as it is walked—the countenances of the promenaders denoting the votaries of Melpomene rather than of Terpsichore—is quite as well calculated to exercise the aged as to divert the youthful. Cards almost universally shut out the young, females particularly, and are inimical to conversation. What then remains? we shall be asked. Why, among other things, that sort of mixture which is to be found in the volumes under notice—reading and music, in which every one in a small party may assist; and we are now only speaking of such parties, not of what till lately were called ‘at homes’—not of crowded assemblies. A couple of dozen persons might occasionally pass two or three hours very agreeably,—nay, advantageously,—over a poem, partly read, partly sung, every one present taking a share, a pause now and then being afforded for a critical or explanatory remark, or some little sally of wit or humour.

But possibly we shall be called visionaries; we therefore quit our speculations for the improvement of society, and proceed to inquire how far the work before us is likely to answer its proposed end. And first we will briefly describe it.

ZIA, where the scene of these evenings is laid, ‘was called by the ancients CEOS, and was the birth-place of Simonides, and other eminent persons.’ The poem opens with the embarkation of the young men of the island, who are proceeding to fight for the liberties of Greece. They sing a farewell hymn to the Zian nymphs, who, after the departure of their lovers, their relatives, and friends, resolve to meet every evening—

They accordingly assemble; various modes of beguiling the time are proposed and adopted,—all, of course, of a somewhat romantic kind, but singing is predominant, thus affording a fit opportunity of blending music with narrative. Hopes and fears are, as may be supposed, the themes most employed, and a slight episode now and then varies the subject. But what is yet published does not appear to proceed very far with the plan, or enable the reader to form any conjecture of the denouement: the story, in fact, admits of being protracted, and, doubtless, is intended to be proportioned in length to the demand for the volumes as they shall from time to time make their appearance.

The Farewell, beginning ‘The sky is bright,’ a trio for two trebles and a base, by Mr. Bishop, is easy and simple, and flows on agreeably in the key of F, which never changes.

One of the nymphs, who ‘to Leucadia late had been,’ now relates some of the griefs of the hapless Lesbian maid, in a song, also by Bishop, entitled ‘Sappho at her loom,’ in E major, which is set with care and ability. The air, which is gentle and sweet, reminds us of the popular melody, ‘Home.’ But our limited space hints the necessity of noticing these songs without stopping to show their connexion with the poem, suffice it therefore to say, that they are part and parcel of it, though each is complete, musically considered, in itself. And the words of every song are also printed with the rest of the letter-press, so that the poetry forms a perfect whole, even without any vocal aid.

‘Weeping for thee, my love;’ a slow air by Massamino, a name more new to us than the music, is rather to be admired for its introductory symphony than for its melody. The accentuation in this is sometimes faulty—‘—no rest in darkness’—‘whose—dreary tread’—and ‘this—ruined heart,’ evidently are all contrary to the intention of the poet. Immediately after the song we meet with a moral truth, which many can verify, enunciated by Mr. Moore in the following very poetical language:—

‘The Romaika,’ composed by Mr. Moore, is a lively air, supposed to be sung to the accompaniment of the balalaika, a rude Russian instrument, a kind of guitar with only two strings. This is pretty, and, if sung characteristically, will be more generally effective than better music.

Now the Zian maids grow playful, and putting themselves in martial array, sing ‘The War Dance,’ a trio by Mr. Bishop; though we are not told where they found a Grecian lady with a base voice to take the lowest part. This, however, does not matter: the composition is animating, is good, and not difficult. But why does Mr. Bishop so frequently treat the rules of prosody with such apparent contempt?—He must be aware that making the last syllable in the word ‘victory’ long, is not to be vindicated; yet he thus sets it:—

now if he had only repeated a third time—(he has done so twice)—the words ‘to war,’ the evil might have been avoided. e. g.

‘As on the shore,’ meant as a martial air, is common. No composer’s name is given.

‘The two fountains,’ by Mr. Bishop, is a sweet, quiet melody in E, six-eight time. The contrast expressed in the following notes is a happy thought:—

‘They are gone,’ said to be a Greek air, is expressive, though the musical rhythm is of a kind that will distress an ear which only delights in regular measure. Nevertheless there is something remarkably touching in the conclusion of each stanza, and as a whole this song will infallibly please.

‘Maidens of Zia,’ a trio for soprano, tenor, and base, by Mr. Moore, sets up no pretensions as a composition, lays no claim to science, and consists of nothing but the plainest counterpoint—but will operate as a charm on nine out of every ten who listen to its simple strains.

Rumours have reached the isle of Zea, that the youthful warriors are on their return home, and every female bosom beats high with hope, not unmixed with anxiety. The maidens sing a hymn to the Virgin,—to ‘Mary, star of the sea [42],’ a trio, beginning, ‘When evening shades are falling,’ the music by Mozart, but from which of his works we are not able to say, or even to guess; we should certainly not have ascribed it to him, had it been printed anonymously. The air is in a pleasing, familiar style, and the parts run smoothly and agreeably together, which is all the praise we can afford, notwithstanding the illustrious name it bears.

‘Blest be Love!’ is a short, good, frequently repeated chorus for the same voices, with an intervening solo for each, by Mr. Bishop.

‘The Caravan Song,’ is a Bohemian melody, and never yet was brought about a more forced, a more unhappy union of poetry and music. The verse plainly favoured some kind of common time, but is reluctantly wedded to three-four, and, like all ill-matched couples, these are very disagreeable when together, however pleasant when separated.

The nymphs then are joined by a band of mountaineers, one of whom, a minstrel youth,

But ‘sad minstrelsy’ now breaks on the ears of the lovely party. It proceeds from a bark, bearing some who

and their dirge. ‘Thou art not dead,’ (the composer not named,) has at least simplicity to recommend it. Such sad sounds awaken sympathy in a ‘pensive maid,’ who sings, ‘Calm, as beneath its mother’s eyes,’ to an air possessing no little elegance, by Fiorillo, some phrases in which, however, are decidedly à la Mozart. This is also harmonized for two sopranos and base, and makes a terzetto that will invite attention to it.

Sadness soon yields to mirth, and in fancy’s eye a vision appears of two personages, who it is said are seldom found together. A song, ‘Love and Wisdom,’ tells their story; and we shall beg leave to repeat it in the poet’s own words, as a specimen of his verse and wit. The tale itself, we need hardly say, is of ancient date.

The music to this is ‘French.’ Why should not the composer have been named? We have a mortal dislike to generalities in such cases; they are unjust, and may create surmises. The next song, ‘Who comes so gracefully,’ a waltz-like and very pretty melody, is described as a ‘foreign air.’ Now, what would the editor of these volumes say, if, when enjoying his friend’s choice bottle, he were to ask the name of the most precious juice, and to be answered, ‘’Tis foreign wine,’ would he not suspect that some sinister motive lurked in such a reply?

It is, in homely prose, a carrier-pigeon, who, of course, brings her the wished-for billet; and this calls upon her for a song, ‘Welcome, sweet bird,’ which does no little credit to Mr. E. Shulz, the composer, who has here shown much taste and greet feeling, if not equal fertility of invention.

The party grows gay, and some of the elders of the company sing a Bacchanalian trio, ‘Up with the sparkling brimmer!’ which claims, it appears, Bohemia as its country, though the parent is not much honoured by this her progeny; any clime, or any pen, might have produced it.

A warrior now gives breath to a martial air, ‘March! nor heed those arms that hold thee;’ another of ‘Bohemian’ origin, but spirited and very well adapted to the words.

The assembly, however, having once tasted the ‘Zacynthian juice,’ loudly call for the cup again; then gratefully extol the source of their pleasures, in a rapturous eulogium on the tree that bears the wit-inspiring grape,—that is to say, in a trio, ‘’Tis the vine! ’tis the vine!’ in which the ladies join; we fear, therefore, that they, for want of something better, have pressed the sparkling chalice too often to their ruby lips, they chaunt the encomiastic strain so like true Bacchantes. This is by an anonymous composer, but the author need not have concealed his name, if fear of criticism alone led him to withhold it, for it is one of the best pieces in the volumes,—a pleasing air, good harmony, marked rhythm, the words are very appropriately set, and the accentuation perfect.

We have thus at very considerable length entered into this work, for the standing and reputation of the poet and his coadjutor entitle them to more than common notice. The poetical part, though a little obscure in its unfinished state, exhibits all Mr. Moore’s glowing fancy, but without the slightest approach to that warmth of language so characteristic of some of his works; and abounds in richness of imagery. The musical portion has had the benefit of Mr. Bishop’s talent and experience, which are fully displayed in the accompaniments to the songs, the taste and fitness of which admit of no question.

PIANO-FORTE.

THE first of these is the tenth number of a work under the title of Album des Pianistes de première force, a publication which has often come under our notice, and is especially suited to amateurs who have very vacant minds and many vacant hours; and most powerfully co-operates with those who wish to render piano-forte music ridiculous and repulsive. The whole of this,—introduction, variations, and all,—consists of a collection of difficult, stupid passages, not one of them having the slightest pretence to novelty, or exhibiting the smallest trait of either taste or feeling. There is nothing here, from the first note to the last, that a dull, plodding, industrious key-thumper, armed with pen, ink and paper, might not have produced, and it contains no one bar that a musician—who really understands his art—who is a man of enlarged mind—would not blush to avow. We have often warned professional men of the danger of encouraging such music, whether by using it, or by applauding it when performed in public. Their recommendation and affected approbation of it can only be placed to the account of ignorance or quackery. Ignorance in those who have not understanding enough to discriminate between good and bad in their art;—quackery in such as wish their own agility of fingers to be inferred from their admiration of it in others. But our warning has not been taken: a fact which too many know, to their cost.

No. 2, which is called La Galopade, though it consists of an introduction and allegretto, as well as the dance, is the companion to La Romeca, noticed in our last; but while it is lively and exhibits no absurdities, it is not altogether equal to the first, arranged by the same. We must, however, admit that its vivacity will please many who do not enter into merits of a more sterling kind.

THE Pastoral of Kulau is an elegant composition, and being neither too slight in structure to be unworthy the[Pg 62] notice of first-rate amateurs, nor too elaborately formed for moderately good ones—a very numerous class—is likely to have a considerable circulation. The key is C; the time, we need hardly say, is six-eight; and the movement allegro non tanto:—troppo, we presume, is meant.

The second is ill named, it has more of the pastoral character than the brilliant: six-eight time, allegretto, and a predominance of quavers, do not altogether authorize such an epithet. The subject is a barren one, therefore it is not a wonder that M. Hünten has made little of it. Luckily it is not long, and a rather moderate price is fixed on it.

THIS is certainly a comical title, however it be pointed or read; but M. Adam, who we conclude knows as much of our language as of our contingent remainders, is not responsible for its construction, we, therefore, look only to his selection and arrangement, both of which show that he has more judgment than his scribe. The compositions chosen for the first fantasia are ‘Sento un interno voce,’ and ‘O Matutini Albori,’ by Rossini; Mozart’s ‘Giovinette;’ and ‘Voici venir,’ with ‘Povera Signora,’ by Auber.

The second is composed of ‘Voyez que cette marche est belle,’ by Auber; Mozart’s ‘Batti, batti;’ a Swiss song, by Meyerbeer; ‘Ah! se tolto,’ by Rossini; ‘a song composed by Mad. Cinti;’ and almost the only praiseworthy air in La Cenerentola, ‘Non piu mesta.’ These are well amplified and combined; and if they display no extraordinary talent or vigour in the adapter, they at least prove him to be a rational being, not one of the note-splitters, who, having no brains themselves, wish to addle those of other people. These fantasias are far from difficult, and though many will find them rather too long, will prove generally acceptable.

No. 1 is a pretty, easy trifle; but it is quite clear that the composer either never heard the nightingale, or meant to ridicule imitations, for such notes as he has given to the ‘love-sick bird’ never yet were formed in its melancholy throat. But people will not be very scrupulous on a matter of fact of this kind, and will find this a pleasing bagatelle, of moderate length and price.

The title-page of No. 2 tells us that the song chosen is ‘an admired’ one. No doubt: every song published now-a-days is not only admired, but ‘enthusiastically applauded,’ wherever performed. But, be it known, such songs are seldom heard anywhere but under the composer’s own roof, and it would, indeed, be cruel if his guests did not extravagantly praise his productions. For ourselves, we never before heard of ‘I will not chide,’ and are not now particularly anxious to become acquainted with it.

We have played over the first page of No. 3, and—(really it grieves us to utter what may sound ungallant)—and earnestly recommend the lady-composer not to publish again till she has gained a little more knowledge of composition; and advise her, when she does again venture into print, to direct the writer on stone either to copy accurately, or mend what he copies.

VOCAL.

No. 1 is an agreeable air, the marked rhythm of which makes it at once understood. The sixth bar of the symphony would be better and more correct if the 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th notes in the treble were altered to G, B, A, and F.

No. 2 expresses in verse and song the deep sympathy of two highly talented ladies for the brutally oppressed, expatriated Poles. This is a short composition in C minor, air and chorus, which speaks as strongly in favour of the good feeling as of the taste and knowledge of the fair composer.

No. 3 is a series of examples of the most erroneous accentuation, and as such may be recommended as beacons, to all students in composition.

When it is stated that No. 4 is an animated composition—we are sure that the composer must always be correct—as much is said of it as impartial criticism will permit.[Pg 63] We do not trace in it any marks of that genius which appear in so many of M. Neükomm’s works.

No. 5 is a lively air, à la militaire, but doubtless owes much of the rapturous applause,—of which the title-page, vulgarly enough, boasts,—to the exertion and popularity of Madame Vestris. The words, however, are set with spirit, and correctly.

There is much gentleness and grace in No. 6, and the words are, in all respects, appropriately and correctly set. The whole, too, is easy.

Nos. 7 and 8 are wholly exempt from censure, though not entitled to any praise, except that of correctness.

No. 9 is a clever composition, full of melody and good passages,—one more especially, beginning at the fifth bar of the second page, which indicates the real musician. The composer also has read and understood the poetry, both as regards its meaning and measure.

No. 10 displays no inconsiderable talent. The guitar-like accompaniment is not only in good keeping—exactly what a serenade requires—but shows a taste and command in harmony. This is altogether a pleasing, easy vocal piece.

No. 1 is a very sweet air, and not devoid of original passages. It is moderate in compass, and easy both to sing and accompany.

HARP AND PIANO-FORTE.

HUMMEL’s Notturno in F is well known to most amateurs, and being one of his earlier productions, is lighter than most of his later works—less the result of study. It makes a duet exactly calculated for social circles, the difficulty not being great for either instrument, and the air as well as variations being in a familiar style.

The adaptor of No. 2 is not a very scrupulous person. There is no overture at all to Zelmira!—but as M. Bochsa is publishing arrangements of overtures, he at once changed the name of the Introduzione to this opera, and included it, under the new appellation, in his collection. It is in D minor, and one of Rossini’s best openings. The air and chorus which terminate the scene, are in the major key, and end the whole brilliantly.

The air, No. 3, certainly a popular one among lovers of modern Italian music, is converted into a trio, and makes an effective one. It is not long or difficult, but requires three correct, neat performers.

HARP.

No. 1 is the Bacchanale from the 3rd act of Robert, arranged in an easy manner.

No. 2 is said to comprise the ‘favourite’ airs from Aureliano. We never before knew that this opera could boast of a single air that any person ever admired. We have here also a publication of the easy kind, and comparatively short. Had any of the four airs been long, they would have been intolerable.

No. 3 is an imitation of Swiss melody, followed by a rondo composed for the Harmonicon, and still our property, having paid, and liberally too, for it years ago! We, however, have applied for no injunction, nor do we intend; it has answered our purpose as a piano-forte piece, and we hope it will satisfy harp players as much as it did our own subscribers.

No. 4 is an easy arrangement of the Alpine March, or Alpensänger-Marsch, which is just now going the round of the different instruments.

BIRMINGHAM MUSICAL FESTIVAL.

IT has been generally supposed and expected, that the Musical Festival at Birmingham would take place during the ensuing autumn, in the newly erected Town Hall, and which (when finished) we are assured will be one of the finest rooms in Europe. We are, however, authorized to state that, in order to carry the various and necessary preparations into effect, and that the arrangements in every department may be as complete and as perfect as possible, the committee of management have, under these considerations, come to a determination to postpone their Grand Musical Festival (for the benefit of the General Hospital) until the autumn of 1834, when we have every reason to believe it will take place under the most favourable auspices, and be carried into effect with a degree of splendour unequalled on any previous and similar occasions, either in this or any other country.

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EXTRACTS FROM THE DIARY OF A DILETTANTE.

January 31st. The magnificent band of the Philharmonic Society met privately at the Hanover-square Rooms, to try some new compositions, written with a view to their being performed at the concerts; among which were symphonies by Mr. W. Griesbach, Mr. Cipriani Potter, (a remarkably clever work,) and M. Rousselot; also an overture, by Mr. S. B. Wesley.

In order to try the effect of the enlargement and alterations in the orchestra, the business of the evening commenced with the overture to the Zauberflöte; and all agreed that the effect of the band was nearly doubled in consequence of the improvements. From being the worst, it has become the best music-room in London.

Feb. 5th. Poor Herold, the French dramatic composer, has been honoured by an apotheosis, or something like one, at Paris. After the performance of his Pré aux Clercs at the Opéra Comique, a fortnight back, a funeral urn covered with black crape, and ornamented with a wreath of Everlastings, was brought on the stage, surrounded by the whole company in deep mourning; when Pouchard delivered a poetical oration, in which the departed composer was decreed a seat in heaven, between Weber and Cimarosa, the whole audience sanctioning the judgment.

11th. A meeting of Mr. T. Mason’s creditors took place this day, when Signora Tosi again claimed the sum of 28,000 francs, which was resisted on the ground of her having refused to perform in male attire. The commissioner, waiting for further information as to the practice of other Italian theatres, deferred judgment.

From the balance-sheet of the theatre, it appeared that the debts due amount to 17,417l.; to meet which, it was stated, that there are debts recoverable, together with the properties at the theatre, amounting to 6,154l. What the recoverable debts are I cannot exactly state, though I believe they do not amount to 1500l.; and as to the ‘properties,’ whoever values them at 200l., estimates liberally.

The loss, therefore, amounts to 11,317l. according to the balance-sheet: but of the debts, &c., said to be recoverable, it may fairly be assumed that not much will ever be received—4000l. therefore, at least, may be added to the loss, making a total of 15,317l.

14th. An account of a ‘Recent Voyage to the South Seas,’ states the following as the effect of European music on the natives:—‘In the midst of the shouting (at Nuka-hiva, one of the Washington Islands) and apparent importunity for us to land, Captain Finch ordered the music on deck, and the moment its full and animated strains reached the shore, the effect on them was evident; they instantly crouched to the ground in perfect silence, as if under the influence of a charm. Nothing of the kind, it is probable, ever broke upon their ears before, and well might there have been a mingling of superstition in their minds with the sudden swelling on the breeze of sounds new and seemingly unearthly.’ It might have been said, that they—

We have only to imagine a guitar instead of flutes, violins, &c. and Dryden’s lines would well apply to the scene.

21st. Madame Mara, once the idol of the British nation, died at Revel on the 20th of January last, in the eighty-fourth year of her age. She lost the whole of her property by the great conflagration at Moscow during the invasion of Bonaparte, and has ever since depended on the kindness of a friend who knew her when she was high in public favour, and afterwards when she had retired to Russia, in prosperous circumstances. An interesting memoir of her, from the German, is contained in the Harmonicon for the year 1828.

24th. Paganini has been created a Baron and Commander of Westphalia; the title to be hereditary, descending to his male heirs. If, says the Nouvelliste—whence I obtain this information—nobility will not ensure talent, this elevation proves at least that talent will sometimes ensure nobility. No doubt many will smile at such a creation; but let such look at our house of Peers, and see how many have been sent there with no recommendation whatever, except the possession of wealth, and the will to misapply it.

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FOREIGN MUSICAL REPORT.

MILAN.

THE Scala opened for the season on the 26th Dec. with a musical drama by Donizetti, entitled Fausta, new to this city, but which had been already brought out at Naples with but doubtful success. Its fate here has not been much better; the story of the opera did not please the habitués of the Scala; and the music was considered inferior to the later compositions of Donizetti, more particularly to his Anna Bolena, of which many traces and reminiscences are continually occurring in the Fausta. Nevertheless, Madame Tosi gave all the support of her talents, both as a singer and an actress, to the piece. The tenor Pedrazzi is also much praised; but the début of Zucchelli was much less favourable; his voice was considered feeble, and his manner wanting in energy and warmth. When he left Paris his voice was already growing weak, and consequently not calculated for the Scala, the size of which theatre demands power.

The Teatro Carcano opened with Bellini’s Capuletti e Montecchi, the part of Juliet by Madame Roser Balfe, Romeo by Mdlle. Michell, and Tebaldo (the tenor) by Bonfigli. Though this opera is far from being a novelty in Milan, it still retains a great share of popularity.

Mercadante has been very unfortunate this season; his Gabriella di Vergi met with but middling success, in spite of the talents of Madame Ungher, and although the music is said not to be without merit, particularly Madame Ungher’s cavatina, a trio between that lady, Cartagenova, and Winger, and a duet in the second act. It appears, therefore, that the subject of the libretto must have injured the exertions of the composer. He met with another check at Genoa, where his Ipermnestra (an opera written by him at Lisbon, when he was manager of the theatre there) was very coolly received, though well performed by Madame Schutz, Mdlle. Cesari, and the tenor Binaghi.

ROME.

A new opera has been performed at the Teatro Valle, called Il Furioso all’ isola di S. Domingo, the libretto by Ferretti, and the music by Donizetti. The music secured the success of the piece. It is said to be full of effect and novelty. From the introduction to the final rondeau, every piece was listened to with enthusiasm and applauded con furore. The execution was worthy of the composition. Mdlle. Elisa Orlandi, and the tenor Ronconi, who performed il Furioso, were particularly applauded. This is by far the most successful performance that has been produced at any Italian theatre for a long time.

BERGAMO.

Ricci’s Clara Rosemberg has been produced here with the most brilliant success. Mdlle. Edwige, the prima donna, does infinite credit to the instructions of Garcia; her voice is fine, her execution rapid, and she has good expression. She was applauded in all her pieces, and several times called forward by the audience. Belloli is a good first musico; the tenor Domenico Furlani is rather weak, but the first bass, Baroilhet, is excellent. The second opera will be Mercadante’s Normanni a Parigi. Ricci’s Clara Rosemberg has been selected as the opening piece of the season in several other towns besides this; amongst them, Brescia and Vicenza. At Verona the theatre opened with the Pirata, in which the principal characters were supported by Gennero and Madame Fischer.

CARLSRUHE.

A young composer, named Charles Augustus Weber, professor of music in the Lyceum at Radstadt, near Baden, has elicited much attention by the merit of his writings. At the third concert of the Museum an overture of his, full of happy thoughts, was performed, displaying in the instrumentation very many new and well-imagined effects. Four choruses of his composition, for soprano, mezzo soprano, tenor, and bass, produced considerable effect. M. Weber is a distinguished performer on the violin; and already known as the author of several songs, piano-forte pieces, and violist quartetts.

VENICE.

Notwithstanding all the efforts of Bellini’s friends, who are very numerous in this city, his Norma has not had better success at the Fenice than attended its production at the Scala. In fact, had not the principal character been performed by Pasta, its failure would have been inevitable and complete. This great actress has not sunk in Venice below the exalted station to which her talents have elevated her in every other part of Europe. The second opera of the season is to be Eufemio di Messina, by Maestro Persiani; then will be brought out the Otello for Madame Pasta; and, lastly, a new opera of Bellini’s, of which the title is to be Beatrice Tenda.

At the Theatre S. Giovanni Crisostomo, Pavesi’s opera, Marcantonio, was very coolly received. The company of singers contains no individuals of known talent; and, whatever the journals may say, neither obtained nor deserved much success. Donizetti’s Zingara is to be the next piece, and to be followed by two new operas, one composed by Domenico Barocci principal tenor of the company, and the other by a Signor Bonaccini, who may be a very clever composer, but who has never yet been even heard of.

In the course of the season there is to be a series of performances at the Theatre S. Samuel; the principal singers, who are coming from Padua, are to be the Persioni prima donna, who has some talent; Zilioti, tenor, Ladetti, basso cantante, and Zambelli, first buffo. It is to be feared this company will not be worth much; but, at all events, it cannot be denied there will be variety enough.

At Padua Maestro Pietro Bresciana has brought out a new opera, called I Promessi Sposi; both the music and performance are very well spoken of.

PARIS.

Théâtre Italien.—After being postponed for some time, on account of the illness of Rubini, Bellini’s Capuletti e Montecchi was at length brought out; the hero and heroine represented by the sisters Grisi, and Tebaldo by Rubini. Few of Bellini’s operas have enjoyed so great a share of popularity in Italy as this; which, however, was written without premeditation, and begun and finished in fifteen days, at the urgent request of the Venetian managers, to fill up a gap in their performances occasioned by the complete condemnation of some other pieces. Bellini, himself,[Pg 66] appears to be partial to it, for he has dedicated the printed copy to his fellow-citizens in Catania; but even considered as a work of Bellini’s, it bears evident marks of the haste in which it was got up. It was tolerably successful, however. The last movement of the finale to the first act, in which Romeo and Julietta sing an impassioned melody in unison, accompanied by the other voices and chorus in arpeggioed staccato notes, was particularly applauded, and in fact decided the fate of the opera.

Bellini’s opera was followed by the revival of Mozart’s Don Juan, which was very nearly a failure. Nothing can render Mozart’s operas old; their triumph over both time and fashion was sufficiently proved by the crowds which the announcement of his chef d’œuvre drew to the theatre: but the best music, to produce its effect, most be well and spiritedly performed, and it is but too true that the great majority of the Italian singers neither like, nor understand, nor can sing Mozart’s music. It is too foreign to their habits, they find no hooks left in it for them to hang their fiorituri on,—and persuade themselves, therefore, that it precludes them from all opportunity of showing off their talents.

Tamburini looked Don Juan well, and was encored in the rondeau Fin ch’han dal vino; but he spoiled the air by introducing into it a long pause and holding note on the E flat

towards the close, when the whole spirit and effect of the composition consists in the rapid and uninterrupted movement the author has given it. The women were all out of their places, and felt so; Mlle. Grisi has too tall and commanding a figure and too loud a voice for Zerlina. Mad. Tadolini is totally unfit for Elvira, and Mlle. Karl, who performed Donna Anna, is unfortunately no favourite with the public, which is too frequently as capricious in its dislikes as in its favoritisms. Rubini alone seemed in his element; his Il mio tesoro was, as usual, a finished morceau.

A very successful début has lately been made at the Opéra Comique, by a M. Hebert, a young man with a very fine bass voice. He appeared in Jean de Paris. It is said that he wished to select the Maitre de Chapelle, but the composer objected; if so, and the same composer heard M. Hebert, he must have felt some regret at his refusal. The débutant possesses superior taste; and a certain elegance and facility in his delivery; to which he adds a good figure, self-possession, and intelligence, qualities which practice, and the habit of appearing before the public, will no doubt develope and improve.

KING’s THEATRE.

THIS theatre has passed, as we predicted, out of the hands of the be-puffed Mr. Mason, into those of the be-praised M. Laporte, and opened on Saturday the 16th of February, with nearly the weakest of Rossini’s operas, therefore one of the greatest favourites with Italian singers, La Cenerentola. In this appeared for the first time in England, Madame BOCCABADATI, who recently was presented to Parisian audience, but with no very flattering result; she therefore was not extremely reluctant to accept an engagement at our Italian Opera House, where anything is tolerated, provided the manager is a Frenchman, and the boxes are let at the moderate price of 300 guineas for about fifty nights.

Madame Boccabadati possesses a soprano voice, of that kind which makes its way into the house, though it sometimes forces people to make their way out. This potent quality is a piercing thinness, and, as commonly happens with a vocal organ of such description, is accompanied by an apparently total absence of all feeling. As counterbalances, however, her intonation is good, and she sings with that firmness, that self-confidence, which leads one to suppose that she understands music,—at least the modern opera music, for the chances are that this lady never sang, never dreamt of, any other. In person Madame B. is much shorter than her name, but what is wanting in height is made up in breadth. As to age, a well-bred critic would guess her at half of that allotted by the Psalmist to man: the less polite manager of an office for insuring lives, would add seven or ten years to this, and be much nearer the mark.

With the exception of DONZELLI as Ramiro, and perhaps DE BEGNIS as the Magnifico, the opera was got up in a manner highly gratifying to those who wish to see this kind of amusement put down by force of public opinion. If a Puritan by any unaccountable accident found himself in the house, he most have chuckled exceedingly at the performance. But what he would say to the theatre remaining open till nearly three o’clock on Sunday morning, we can hardly guess.

What is the prelate of London about?—What the magistrates of Middlesex, who, if they hear a fiddle or a fife in a public-house after the eleventh hour, go crazy with the fear that law and religion are rapidly approaching their final overthrow?

DRURY LANE THEATRE.

ON Tuesday the 5th ult. Mozart’s chef-d’œuvre, under the English name of Don Juan, was produced at this theatre, cast as follows:—

Never was foreign music produced with more success on our national stage than in the present instance, and the vast trouble and expense bestowed in getting it up have been amply repaid by the most unequivocal sign of public approbation—large receipts.

The dialogue seems to have been taken from the English version made in 1817, and is adapted for the present purpose by Mr. Beazley. It departs in no way from that translation, except in a few merely verbal alterations. The music is said in the advertisements to include all that was originally written by Mozart; but this is not exactly correct, for the manager has, and very wisely, omitted the last scene, which, splendid as is the concluding chorus, is injurious to the effect of the opera as a whole. But the pieces[Pg 67] published in the appendix to the German editions of the music have now been all introduced, and embodied in the opera, an alteration certainly well meant, but by no means to be approved, for they add to the length of the drama, and diminish its interest. It is worth while, in the case of so important a work—the glory of the lyric stage—to have this matter properly understood.

In a catalogue of Mozart’s compositions, in his own hand-writing, in the possession M. André of Offenbach, a copy of which is now before us, is the following entry:—‘28ten October, 1787; in Prag. Il Dissoluto Punito, o, il Don Giovanni, Opera buffa, in 2 Atti. Pezzi di Musica, 24.’ Now, by looking at the list of pieces in the original edition of the music, it will be seen that these are exactly 24, exclusive of the few bars sung by the Statue in the cemetery, and that the airs, &c. in the appendix are not included among these; they, in fact, never formed any part of the opera as at first performed, but were added from time to time, afterwards, to gratify particular performers, and to induce them to accept characters, which, in their vanity, they thought not good enough, not sufficiently important, without some augmentation. Accordingly we find, in the very same catalogue, a memorandum made on the 24th of April, 1788, in the following words:—‘Aria zur Oper Don Giovanni, in G dur, Mr. Morella, Dalla sua pace, etc.’ On the 28th of the same month and year, the duet ‘Per queste tue Manine,’ is entered as composed for Madame Mombelli and Mr. Benucci; and on the 30th is a notice of the scena, ‘In quali Eccessi,’ and aria, ‘Mi tradi quell’ alma ingrata,’ introduced for Madlle. Cavallieri. There is no record of ‘Hò capito,’ which, doubtless, the great composer either forgot, or thought unworthy of notice, as it really is.

In 1817, when Don Giovanni was first made known to this country, ‘Dalla sua pace’ was introduced, in order to strengthen the part of Don Ottavio for Signor Crivelli, the first Italian tenor then in Europe, and so lovely an air was gladly received, and being short, very little retarded the progress of the drama. The scena of Donna Elvira is, unquestionably, a very fine composition, but that the author himself never meant it to form a permanent part of the opera is clear. Equally obvious are his intentions respecting the duet, ‘Per queste tue Manine.’

Besides these, a scene is interpolated, (where Leporello is blind-folded,) which is all too much, and ought certainly never to have been admitted.

Though Mrs. WOOD insisted on singing the duet ‘La ci darem,’ (we forget the English words,) and the air ‘Vedrai, Carino,’ rather too slow, and dragged the time of both, yet she performed the character very charmingly: in the concerted pieces her knowledge and power were fully displayed. Mad. DE MERIC makes an excellent Donna Anna, and with Mesdames CAMPORESE and RONZI DE BEGNIS fresh in our memory, we yet were perfectly satisfied with the new representative of the character. Miss BETTS did more justice to the part of Donna Elvira than it has commonly received at the King’s Theatre. Great praise is due to her for her share in the opera.

Mr. BRAHAM’s Don Juan much surpassed the expectations of those who have been in the habit of viewing him as a singer, and nothing else, on the stage, and fully realized the hopes of those who have recently learnt that he can act as well as sing. The whole performance was spirited, easy, and gentlemanlike: in his scenes with Zerlina there was exactly enough of that warmth, that empressement, which forms the just medium. His serenade, ‘Deh, vieni alla Finestra,’ proved very delightful; his share of the duet, ‘La ci darem,’ admirable. Mr. H. PHILLIPS sang all that is allotted to Leporello in a most perfect manner, particularly ‘Madamina,’ or the list of Juan’s conquests; but he wanted a little more of that comic humour, of that archness, which the character requires. Mr. SEGUIN’s Masetto did him great credit, though it was evident that the intrusive air, ‘Hò capito,’ was not introduced by his wish. Mr. BEDFORD made a very good Don Pedro. As the statue, both equestrian and pedestrian, his voice, figure, and firmness, told surprisingly well.

The orchestra, in order to do justice to such a work, was augmented by the principal instruments of the King’s Theatre and Philharmonic band, whose assistance was very sensibly felt, and contributed much to the brilliant success which attended the whole performance. Mr. Bishop acted as conductor, and Mr. T. Cooke led the band, who, we believe, undertakes this duty only on extraordinary occasions. The scenery throughout is good; that of the cemetery by moonlight, perfect; but the last scene, borrowed from Martin’s Pandemonium, is most magnificent, and was not lost on the spectators. Indeed the whole was received with acclamations, continues to draws full houses, and promises to reimburse the manager for the great expense he has incurred, and is incurring, in the performance of such an opera.

Mr. H. PHILLIPS’s engagement having terminated shortly after the production of this piece, his part has been taken by a gentleman quite new to the London stage, named MARTIN, a pupil of Mr. T. COOKE, who, with a good base voice, correct intonation, and an unaffected manner, promises to supply the want of such a performer, which has long been felt at our theatres, Mr. Phillips not being gifted with ubiquity, though evidently very locomotive.

COVENT-GARDEN THEATRE.

A PROJECT often talked of, but never before listened to by the Lord Chamberlain, was, on the 15th of last month, the first Friday in Lent, carried into execution by M. LAPORTE, namely, the performance of something like an oratorio in action, on the stage, with scenery, dresses, &c. For this experiment Rossini’s sacred opera, Mosè in Egitto, was chosen, which, with a chorus and a few scraps from Handel, was announced as The Israelites in Egypt, or the Passage of the Red Sea, the music ‘selected from the works of HANDEL and ROSSINI,’ a most extraordinary union, it must be confessed, had the mixture been equal; but, luckily, the ‘Hailstone chorus’ was the only entire piece of the former composer introduced, the rest having been neither more nor less than the Italian opera with English words. The Jewish lawgiver was represented by Mr. H. PHILLIPS, who had just stepped out of the character of pimp to the Spanish grandee: and Mr. SEGUIN, who, the night before and the night after, was the Masetto, or bumpkin, in Don Giovanni, personated the obstinate autocrat of Egypt. Mr. WILSON represented the brother of Moses, the chief priest named by divine authority; and the character of the first of the ‘first-born of Egypt,’ Pharaoh’s son, sustained by Mr. WOOD. Mrs. WOOD, Miss H. CAWSE, and Miss SHERRIFF, were the ladies on the occasion; the first, a Hebrew captive, the two last the wife of Egypt’s king, and the sister of Aaron.

All, or nearly all, the music in Mosè is preserved, the name of Handel being a palpable deception. The grand chorus of ‘The Horse and his Rider’ is cut down to a few bars, though ‘Sing ye to the Lord’ is retained in compli[Pg 68]ment, doubtless, to Mrs. Wood. The ‘Hailstone’ chorus is, we have before stated, performed entire. Some of the pieces of the opera—for opera it is, however disguised the name—were well executed; others as badly. Mrs. WOOD and PHILLIPS of course bore the chief weight. The band, led by MORI, was reinforced by some of the best performers from the King’s Theatre, and this department was extremely well filled. Mr. ROPHINO LACY, who has the merit of having contrived this strange mixture, gives Moses a snow-white beard, while he bestows on the elder brother of the lawgiver a remarkably black bushy one. There were a few other absurdities committed, but none worth notice. The house was very thinly attended, and we doubt whether the speculation will answer. Though we are persuaded that something of the kind, well considered and managed, would succeed.

THE MUSIC OF THE PRESENT NUMBER.

BEFORE Haydn composed his twelve grand symphonies for Salomon, he had produced a vast number of others, of which but few are now in use, or even known, for many are in fact trifling, and were not written with any view to fame. But of those which are occasionally performed, some possess every merit that this very superior kind of composition can boast, and among them is his symphony in C, for a full orchestra, beginning

of which we have given the finale, the movement that has taken the title of La Danse des Ours, the subject having, it is said, been suggested to the composer by the bag-pipe music of a bear-leader in the streets of Vienna. The hilarity, the beauty, and the ingenuity of this, have induced us to print Stegmann’s arrangement of it; more especially as it is not published in a separate form in England or, we believe, anywhere else.

The aria of Zelter is from a MS. scena in our possession, beginning ‘Oh Dio! se in questo istante,’ and entirely unknown in this country. We may venture to any that there is no second copy of it in London. The air now given is but a small portion of the whole, which would have been too long for insertion; and indeed, without orchestral accompaniments, much of its effect is lost. Concerning the author, we refer to the memoir in the present number.

The two movements of Scarlatti were once the admiration of harpsichord players. The brilliancy of the first will still be admitted, and if we do not deceive ourselves, will lead many to open a work, of which very few, even of professional players, have the least knowledge. We have slightly altered the notation of some bars, but without making any change in the composer’s music. An account of Domenico Scarlatti will be found in the fifth volume of the Harmonicon.

‘The Mansion of Peace,’ written for and sung by Harrison, was, like all that is excellent in music, repeated so often when in fashion, that delight was soon followed by satiety. It was first produced at least forty years ago, by one of the few whom we may call classical glee-writers—by the composer of ‘When winds breathe soft;’ and we feel convinced that it will be perfectly new to most of our readers. It has never, to our knowledge, before been published with a separate accompaniment.

Beethoven’s Canon is spoken of at large in the letter-press of the present number. He gives it without any words: we have, to make it vocal—and it will be found extremely pleasing in effect—adapted a ‘Hallelujah, amen’ to the notes.

The amanuensis of Handel, Christopher Smith, set the whole of the Tempest, as altered by Dryden, to music, and there are some compositions of much merit in his work, of which ‘Full fathom five’ is decidedly the best. This was for many years performed at the Ancient Concert, being preferred to that set by Purcell to the same words. However, there is nothing else in Smith’s Tempest to be compared to the work of our great English composer. Of Smith very little is recorded. He composed three or four oratorios, and some Suites of lessons, in imitation of Handel, none of which are now known.

For the quartet, ‘Now the Moonbeam’s lustre,’ we are indebted to the Spectator newspaper. Of the composer we have no information, and we never met with his name before. The present may very properly be denominated a glee, and as such will be more effective if sung by what are called equal voices.—i. e. men’s voices.

[Pg 69]

APRIL, 1833.

MEMOIR OF M. HEROLD.

THIRTY years ago the French school was rich in composers of remarkable merit; Mehul, Lesuer, Berton, Devienne, Della-Maria, Kreutzer, Catel, Boïeldieu, Gaveaux, produced numerous compositions, and the reputation of their success redounded to the honour of their country. Since then death has cut off some of these artists in their youth, others in the very vigour of their talents, while the muses of others again have sunk into silence. It was a grievous loss when an individual of such a party was consigned to the tomb; but there was consolation in contemplating the survivors. What a difference now! How deep must be our regret when we see one of the most celebrated musicians of the day ravished from us by a premature death! Herold is gone—I look around and can only indulge in the hope of something that futurity may bring forth; one, and one only, of his compeers is left to us.

Louis James Ferdinand Herold was born in Paris, the 28th of November, 1791. His father, who was a pianist of some merit, and a respected professor, notwithstanding the early and decided proofs of a musical genius which the son evinced, had no intention of bringing him up to the profession. At ten years old he was placed at one of the best boarding-schools of the time, where he made a brilliant progress in his general studies, which had afterwards no doubt its effect on his career as an artist. The author of this notice, at that time a scholar of the Conservatorio, resided in the some house as teacher of the solfeggio. Herold, as well as his fellow pupils, attended the lessons, but his progress was much more rapid than that of any of the other scholars; nature had made him a musician; he learned, or rather seemed intuitively to imbibe, the principles of the art as a matter almost of play, without appearing to suspect his own strong determination towards it.

The early death of his father made a sudden change in young Herold’s destination in life and in his studies, music being by that circumstance rendered his profession. Already a good musician, he entered the Conservatoire in October, 1806, as a student of the piano-forte in the class of M. Adam. His hands were well formed for the instrument he had selected; the lessons of the able master who directed his studies so made him a distinguished performer. Under the instructions of Catel, he prosecuted with success the study of harmony, and placed himself under Mehul to learn the art of expressing on paper the musical ideas which already began to present themselves to his imagination. The lessons of this great artist, and, perhaps, still more his conversation, always piquant, and full of ingenious and acute reasoning, had the most happy effect in developing the faculties of young Herold: his progress was that of a man born to be an artist; one year and a half’s study qualified him to enter into competition for, and obtain also the grand prize for composition given by the institute in August, 1812. The cantata which he composed for this occasion (Madame la Valliere) does not perhaps quite indicate the exalted talent he was destined one day to exhibit; but it cannot be denied that it contained sufficient proofs of a very happy disposition for his art.

In November of the same year, Herold set off for Rome as a pensioned student of the government. Most of the scholars who are fortunate enough to obtain that great object of their ambition, the first prize in composition, still look upon the time which the rules of the institute oblige them to pass in Italy, and particularly at Rome, as little better than a kind of exile. This was not the case with Herold; he had long sighed after Italy, the country which seemed in his imagination to teem with musical inspirations. Often has he declared that the time he passed in the capital of the Christian world formed the happiest epoch of his life. After three years of labour and study he quitted this classic land of antiquity, and went to Naples: here he appeared to live quite another life. The cloudless sky, the pure, vivifying, and elastic air, the beauty of the views, the natural enthusiasm of the natives, all conspired to work him up to that feverish anxiety to compose which is no where else felt with a like intensity. He was tormented with a wish to write for the theatre, and it was not long before the opportunity of gratifying his wish occurred. Soon after his arrival in Naples, he succeeded in bringing out an opera in two acts, entitled ‘La Groventù di Enrico quinto.’ Herold has not suffered the music of this piece to be seen by his own countrymen; all that is known of it is, that the Neapolitans found it to their taste, and that it was performed several nights with undisputed success. This is the more remarkable, as at the time Herold thus brought out his opera, the whole of Italy, and the Neapolitans in particular, had an invincible prejudice against all musicians of the French school. A composer born on the banks of the Seine writing an opera for the Teatro Fondo, and the Neapolitans not only listening to, but applauding his music, was a novelty of which there was no previous example.

M. Herold returned to France towards the end of 1815: he had not been long in Paris before he had an opportunity of trying his force upon the French stage. Boïeldieu, who had observed the germs of a fine composer in the young artist, determined to assist him over this first step, always so difficult to surmount, owing to the bad management of the theatres. He associated him with himself in the composition of a little opera de circonstance, called Charles of France, on which he was then engaged. This opera, which was performed in 1816, introduced Herold to the public in a favourable manner, and in consequence the libretto of Les Rosieres was intrusted to him. A three-act opera will always afford the composer some good opportunities of displaying his powers; Herold availed himself of his opportunities, and produced some morceaux which proved he was no ordinary musician. The inexperience of a young writer was to be traced in the work, but there were seen here and there some flashes of fancy, which showed that the author had been doing violence to himself, in order to bring his writing down to the level of the style to which the frequenters of the Théâtre Feydeau were at that time accustomed. Yet, notwithstanding this kind of wavering uncertainty of manner, which is to be found in the score of Les Rosieres, there are no doubt many points in it which deserved more admiration than they received. At the end of 1816, this piece was per[Pg 70]formed at the Opéra Comique with a success which had its effect on all the future life of the author.

La Clochette, an opera in three acts, followed soon after Les Rosieres. In this opera M. Herold displayed much more passion and dramatic force than in his former production, and it was plainly evident that he had made great progress in the art of writing for the stage. The graceful and piquant little air, ‘Me voilà, me voilà,’ a duet in the second act, and several charming phrases scattered through other parts of the opera, proved that the author had the power of inventing melodies; while the finale of the first act, and several passages in the second and third, show the hand of a dramatic composer of no low class. There were besides in the instrumentation many new effects; but not a little of all this was understood by the audience. The piece was successful indeed; but its success was much more owing to the scenery and spectacle than to the merit of the music.

Nearly eighteen months elapsed before Herold obtained another opera to compose. This interval he employed in writing fantasias, and other pieces of that kind; a style in which he produced many pretty things that hardly met with the degree of encouragement they deserved. His taste led him determinately towards writing for the theatre, and he was sometimes irritated at the injustice which rendered it so difficult for him to get within the doors. Tired at last with waiting for the good libretto he was so constantly wishing for, he consented to write music to a three act comedy called ‘Premier venu.’ This piece was witty, but cold, and the most unfit possible for being turned into an opera; it had not even the merit of being new, on the contrary it had been a long time a stock piece at the Théâtre Louvois, from whence Vial took it to the Opéra Comique. Nothing could be more unfavourable to the display of Herold’s warmth of manner than this comedy; he could infuse no fire into it, and perhaps its coldness communicated itself to the unfortunate composer; however, as a man of real talent cannot compose three acts without giving some proofs of his genius, the Premier venu contains an excellent trio between three men who pretend to be sleeping.

The desire of writing for the theatre tormented Herold incessantly, but the means were as constantly wanting; authors appeared not to have sufficient confidence in his talents to confide their poems to him. This state of abandonment determined him at length to take up another old comic opera in one act called Les Troqueurs, and write new music to it. It was performed in 1819; the exertions and talents of the actors supported it through a few nights; but the piece (which was the first of the kind ever written in Paris) no longer suited the taste of the times, and it fell to rise no more. A sort of fatality seemed at this time to attend all the efforts of one whose first appearance on the stage had given promise of so brilliant a career. An opera in one act, called L’Amour Platonique, was given him in 1819 to compose; the music was required with the utmost rapidity, and sent as soon as written to the performers to study. At the general rehearsal some charming passages were remarked; but the libretto turned out to be feeble in the extreme, so much so that the author left the theatre before it was concluded. In 1820, M. Planard intrusted him with a pretty comedy of his called ‘L’auteur mort et vivant;’ unfortunately, this piece again contained no situations in which a composer could have an opportunity of doing justice to his own talents, and the very cold reception it met with during a few representations, added nothing to M. Herold’s reputation. This last disappointment appears for the time to have completely discouraged him from making any more efforts in a line which had proved so unfortunate; for during the next three years he wrote nothing, but seemed to have entirely abandoned the theatre.

During this interval the part of accompanyist at the piano-forte in the Italian Opera became vacant; Herold applied for and obtained it. From this period the duties of his situation took up the greatest part of his time; and he employed the rest in writing a great number of pieces for the piano-forte. Thus did this artist, in the flower of his age and full vigour of his talents, find himself in some degree repulsed and driven from the theatre for which he had been born. Such phases of bad fortune occur in the lives of most men of merit.

The silence of three years to which Herold had been condemned, gave way to a renewed desire of writing for the theatre, of that ardent character which is commonly a forerunner of success. His first production after so long rest was Le Muletier, performed at the Opéra Comique in 1823. The success of this was at first doubtful, but at length it was established in the public favour, entirely on account of the merits of the composer. The music of Le Muletier is highly coloured, dramatic, and full of happy thoughts and new effects. Lasthenie followed, a composition of a graceful character, and which had only one fault: viz. that the story was taken from the Greek at a time when Greek stories happened to be entirely out of fashion. Consequently, this production made little impression on the public, though it ran through a certain number of nights, and, at all events, the connoisseurs did justice to the talents of the composer. The success of the French armies in Spain in 1823, gave occasion to the writing an opera entitled Vendome en Espagne, in the composition of which Herold was associated with Auber. The pieces which he wrote off-hand for this score contained some happy thoughts, which he afterwards worked up and employed with success in his future productions.

In 1824, Herold was again charged by the managers of the Opéra Comique with the composition of a little piece de circonstance, (which however outlived the occasion for which it was written,) called ‘Le Roi René.’ The following year he composed for the same theatre another one act opera entitled Le Lapin Blanc, but nothing could be less fit for music; in fact words and music were equally feeble.

In this part of the narrative it becomes necessary to state, that during his three years of retreat, a great change had taken place in Herold. A constant witness of the success of Rossini’s compositions, which he had been accompanying almost without intermission at the Théâtre Italien, he persuaded himself that the only means of obtaining the public favour was by imitating more or less the musical forms that were in vogue. Many others partook of his error, who did not partake of his talent; for him it was a deplorable mistake, as it withheld him some time from following the route his own genius, left to itself, would have pointed out.

Marie, an opera in three acts played at the Opéra Comique in 1826, marked the return of M. Herold to the style which suited him; it was at once the best and the most successful piece he had till then produced; in it he gave wider scope to his sensibility than he had been able to do before, and all the pieces obtained a degree of popularity and fashion which none of his former compositions had ever enjoyed. The moment was favourable, and probably Herold would have at once taken the rank among[Pg 71] composers of which he was worthy, if his engagement at the opera as conductor of the singers had not deprived him of the leisure necessary to profit by the tardy justice the public seemed at length disposed to do to his merits. Two years before he had quitted his situation of accompanyist at the Italian Theatre for that of conductor of the chorusses, and in 1827, he accepted the post above mentioned. From that time fatigued with a thousand occupations totally incompatible with the repose and freedom necessary for achieving works of imagination, he found it out of his power to take advantage of the favourable tide of circumstances, and at once put the seal on his reputation. The little leisure he had was given up to writing the music for a few ballets; in 1827 he wrote for the Opera the ballets of Astolphe et Joconde, and La Somnambule, both in three acts; in 1828, Lydia, a ballet in one act, and Cendrillon, a ballet in three: about the same period he also produced the overture, chorusses, &c. in the drama of Missolonghi, performed at the Odeon.

In 1829, three years after the production of his opera of Marie, he brought out a one act operetta full of charming passages, entitled L’Illusion. The music was of a melancholy and impassioned cast: for the overture he adopted the one he had some years before written for L’Amour Platonique. In the same year the king conferred the decoration of the legion of honour upon him, a distinction to which he was justly entitled. Emmeline, an opera in three acts, which he brought out in 1830, was unsuccessful; but he took a splendid revenge the next year, by producing his Zampa, a work worthy of the first masters, and which ranked Herold at once amongst the most celebrated composers of France. Abundance of fine subjects, characteristic expression of the passions, dramatic power, a deep genius for harmony and instrumentation, all are to be found in this work, the success of which has been as brilliant in Germany as it was in France. A short time after, M. Herold contributed with numerous other composers towards the music of the Marquise de Brinvilliers.

Whether it was occasioned by the weight of his labours at the Opera, or the fatigue occasioned by his recent return to the pen, or whatever was the cause, about this time M. Herold found his health give way. Still young he might have arrested the course of disease, if he would have had recourse to entire repose and a change of climate; but nothing could persuade him to quit the theatre of his success, or to cease from his labours. In spite of all the remonstrances of his friends, he continued to follow the line of life he had laid out for himself, and it was not until the insidious malady had fatally undermined his constitution, that he himself became conscious of alarm. The new management of the Opéra Comique were in want of new operas, which it was necessary also should be ready in a short time; Herold had in his portfolio the score of the ‘Pré aux Clercs,’ but to furnish it for bringing before the public required a degree of time, study, and preparation, which the situation of the theatre would not allow. Herold wrote off-hand an operetta in one act, which, though a trifle, shows the hand of a master. This last production preceded a short time the production of his Pré aux Clercs, a work of a softer character than his Zampa, but not less happily conceived.

It was the song of the swan. The pulmonary complaint which had been undermining his life, now made every day the most alarming progress. The agitation attending the casting and bringing out of his opera hastened the catastrophe, and in less than a month from his last triumph, the artist was in his tomb, his friends, and all who knew the man, were plunged in profound grief, and even those who had no knowledge of him but from his works, sincerely and sorely regretted that his career should have been so suddenly and prematurely closed.

STATE OF MUSIC IN THE PROVINCES.

THE inhabitants of the Metropolis, we believe, are not aware of the progress making by music in the provinces. In Lancashire, Yorkshire, and Derbyshire, in particular, there is a diffusion of musical knowledge that almost admits a comparison with that in Germany. Manchester, Liverpool, York, Leeds, Sheffield, Derby, Halifax, contain numbers of able amateurs, who cultivate the art with enthusiasm, and have wealth and spirit for its encouragement. In those towns, and many smaller ones, are choral societies, similar to such as are found in every part of Germany; several of them of long standing, and all judiciously conducted. They are liberally supported by annual subscriptions; their orchestras are led by, and partly composed of, the ablest professors of the place and neighbourhood, the complement being made up by very efficient amateurs; not wholly gentlemen-amateurs, for a number of them are young men and women belonging to what is now called the operative class, who are encouraged by their employers to cultivate an art which has so favourable an effect on their character and habits. Out of this class are formed, not only the chorus-singers, whose reputation has long since spread all over England, but the solo-singers; and even the habitués of the London concerts, with whatever metropolitan disdain they might enter a meeting of one of these societies, would, spite of their prepossessions, be delighted with the knowledge, feeling, and even style, frequently exhibited by these country singers. As to the choruses, they would be constrained to admit that they seldom have the good fortune to hear anything like them in London.

These observations have been suggested by a performance which took place at the end of February, in the church of the little town of Belper, in Derbyshire. The Chevalier Neukomm has been residing for some time with his friend, Mr. John Strutt, of Belper, and occupied in completing the great oratorio which he engaged to write for the Birmingham Festival of this year. M. Neukomm, as is well known, is always ready to exercise his talents in the cause of benevolence, and the performance we now mention was got up under his direction, in aid of the funds for erecting and establishing an infant school in the town of Belper.

Great public interest was excited on this occasion, as it was understood not only that some pieces fresh from the pen of that highly-gifted composer would be executed, but that he himself would perform on the Expressive Organ, an instrument hardly yet known in England; and families were attracted from Yorkshire, Staffordshire, and other distant places. The orchestra, vocal and instrumental, consisted of a select portion of the Derby Choral Society,[Pg 72] combined with the choir of Mr. Strutt; and the talented young violin performer, Mr. Mawkes, gave his assistance. The performance produced for the charity the sum of 160l. ‘It is no easy task,’ says the Derby Reporter, ‘to point out any parts of the vocal performances as being more eminently entitled than others to our praise. We cannot avoid, however, noticing some pieces with which we were more particularly delighted; among which were the grand Epinicion, or Song of Triumph, from the oratorio of Saul; the magnificent Hallelujah of the immortal Handel; a quartett of Haydn, “Lo, my Shepherd is divine;” the splendid “Second Advent” of Neukomm; Mozart’s Motet, “O God, when thou appearest;” and four truly sublime and devotional choruses, selected from one of the Chevalier’s compositions, The Hymn of the Night, a work hitherto unknown in this country. This composition was published at Paris several years since in French and German, and has been publicly performed at Copenhagen, in presence of the Royal Family of Denmark, with universal approbation. This circumstance, we believe, has led to the recent translation of the original words into English; and we have no doubt, from the specimens which were yesterday heard of its excellence, that it will eventually become a great favourite with the British public.’ In this opinion of the Derby critic, we are enabled, from an attentive examination of the score of the Hymn of the Night, to express our entire concurrence. The writer concludes with a glowing description of the Chevalier Neukomm’s extemporaneous playing, with which many of our metropolitan readers are acquainted, and to which the Harmonicon has frequently endeavoured to do justice. The instrument employed by him on this occasion (the Expressive Organ) was well calculated for the display of his genius. In size it hardly exceeds a cottage piano-forte; but it has much power as well as delicacy, gives every gradation of piano and forte by a mere pressure of the finger, and produces the effects of almost every species of wind instrument. We are surprised that our fabricans have not yet set about making it.

Mr. Strutt, of Belper, encourages music from a much higher view than that of ministering to his own gratification. He is one of the greatest manufacturers in the kingdom, and his immense establishments give employment and support to a numerous population, to whose comfort and welfare he pays unwearied attention. It is in pursuit of this philosopher-like object that he promotes the cultivation of music among them. At a great sacrifice, both of time and money, he encourages its practice among his male and female operatives, who show a disposition for it; and engages a music-master from Derby, twice or thrice a week, to give them lessons. Among these people he truly finds that music ‘emollit mores, nec sinit esse feros;’ and it is earnestly to be wished that such an example were generally followed in establishments where great numbers of people are employed. Wherever the working classes are taught to prefer the pleasures of intellect, and even of taste, to the gratification of sense, a great and favourable change takes place in their character and manners. They are no longer driven by mere vacuity of mind to the beer-shop; and a pastime which opens their minds to the impressions produced by the strains of Handel and Haydn, combined with the inspired poetry of the Scriptures, becomes something infinitely better than the amusement of an idle hour. Sentiments are awakened which make them love their families and their homes; their wages are not squandered in intemperance, and they become happier as well as better.

LETTER FROM MRS. MILLARD.

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

As I wish to avoid all communications with Mr. Z. T. Purday, music-publisher; and any further with Mr. J. H. Cross, music-arranger, (having written one letter to that gentleman, to which he has given no reply,) I shall deem it a great favour if you will give this a place in your Harmonicon.

About eighteen months since, in consequence of some unintentional offence I gave Mr. Purday, (the particulars of which are not worth relating,) that gentleman sent me word he could prove my melody of ‘Alice Gray’ to be borrowed from other compositions. This message, with some accompanying impertinence, I had nearly forgotten, till, on the cover of the Harmonicon of January last, appeared the following notice: ‘Just published, by Z. T. Purday, &c. &c., a French air, on which is founded the popular ballad of Alice Gray, &c. &c.’

Through some mistake of my publisher, I did not receive a copy of this French air till yesterday, otherwise I should have taken the liberty of addressing you earlier on the subject.

A copy of the French air in question will accompany this, from which you will see that the theme is truly ‘a French air,’ being no other than that of Rode’s, modified in different passages, to render the accidental resemblance between it and my melody the greater. You will also perceive that the variations have not such an appellation for nothing, as they have little to do with the theme; but are as clearly and entirely formed on the melody of my ballad, as those of Mr. Knapton’s or Mr. Valentine’s. These facts need no comment, as they must speak for themselves much more than will be desirable, either to the arranger or publisher. Before I conclude, I beg leave to say, that at the time I composed my ballad, I had never (strange as it may appear) heard Rode’s melody, nor was I at all aware of the existence of any thing which bore any resemblance to mine.

[Pg 73]

CONCERTS AT OXFORD; AND ON THE STATE OF MUSIC AT BOTH UNIVERSITIES.

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

In the pages of your agreeable and instructive miscellany, I invariably find some information as to the state of music upon the Continent. You inform me what new operas have been produced, which have succeeded, and which failed: you tell me where all the great and first-rate singers are at the time of your writing, and also state what new singers have made their début, and with what success: in fact, you make me perfectly acquainted with what is going on in the musical world at Rome, Naples, Milan, Vienna, Berlin, &c.; and in addition to all this you occasionally give an account of a concert at Birmingham, York, Liverpool, Manchester, and many other of our own large towns. Now, Sir, I have no doubt that very many of your constant readers will agree with me in saying all this is very amusing, and very acceptable. I have been, however, equally sorry and surprised at not having seen in the Harmonicon any article relating to music connected with our universities, or any account of a concert having been given either at Oxford or Cambridge for these three years past! This appeared to me very odd; surely, thought I, the omission cannot be for want of a correspondent, for at these places it may almost be said that ‘every man is a scribe by trade.’ To what cause then is this lack of intelligence owing? Being a resident at Oxford, I know, of course, what has been, and what is going on, concerning music, both in the university and the city; but being ignorant of what has been doing at Cambridge, I determined (for my own satisfaction, and being a great lover of music) to inquire, and the result of my inquiry (though I blush to record it) is, that there every thing connected with music has been for some years past, and still is, as dull and showing as little motion as the almost stagnate river that washes her college walls. It is really mortifying to think that Music receives less patronage from Granta’s learned and classical sons, than is bestowed on her by the manufacturers and tradesmen of Sheffield and Leeds!

Now, Sir, without meaning to triumph over the students and residents at the sister university, or to boast of our pleasant localities by comparing the verdant and flowery banks of the ‘silver Isis’ with the ‘lazy Cam,’ I am happy to state that it is not quite so bad with us. At Oxford, music, although not in a very flourishing state, yet is not totally neglected, and among those who have ever been most forward to promote its success and prosperity, I must not omit to notice the stewards of the music-room, who have continued regularly to give two concerts every term. It is true, indeed, that the success of the undertaking has not always been adequate to their wishes, or such as might reasonably have been expected from the acknowledged excellence of the performances, and the first rate talent that has been engaged. However, they are not discouraged, but cherishing a love for the art, and a desire to see it prosper in the university, they zealously persevere in the good old custom (established, I believe, by Dr. Hayes) of providing, every term, for the heads of houses and their families, the gownsmen, and the upper class of citizens, three hours of the most innocent enjoyment that any rational being can indulge in; thus gratifying their own passion for music, and at the same time promoting the interests of its professors.

Having said so much, Mr. Editor, I will venture to add an account of the two last concerts given by the before-mentioned stewards on the evenings of Thursday and Friday, the 14th and 15th of February last. The vocal performers originally engaged were Miss Shirreff, of Covent Garden Theatre, Miss C. Lyon, a promising young débutante, and Signor Donzelli. I have said originally engaged, because ‘thereby hangs a tale.’ Report says, and I have no doubt truly, that Signor Donzelli was not only engaged a month previous to the concerts, but that he himself, with the knowledge and consent of Mr. Laporte, fixed on Thursday and Friday, the 14th and 15th of February, and his name was, of course, placarded and announced throughout the county in every possible manner. Now mark, Sir:—on the Tuesday preceding the concerts, or, in other words, about eight-and-forty hours before he was to sing his first song, Signor Donzelli sent a notice that the Opera was to open on the Thursday, and that he could not go to Oxford! All who have had any experience in the getting up of a concert, will easily imagine what trouble and consternation this intelligence occasioned. It appears it was impossible, for many reasons, to put off the concerts. In this dilemma, Mr. T. Welsh (being the master or instructor both of Miss Shirreff and Miss C. Lyon) was applied to, and at this very short notice agreed to go. He did so, and attended a rehearsal with the ladies, on the Thursday morning for the concert in the evening.

Now, Mr. Editor, if you have been surprised at what I have already related, I think you will be still more so when I tell you, that between four and five o’clock the same afternoon, Signor Donzelli (whom the good people at Oxford had been informed by hand-bills a few hours before was prevented from attending) came into the town by one of the coaches, and, after all the bustle and confusion he had occasioned, very coolly declared that the Opera would not open as expected, and that he was come to fulfil his engagement! After this, let us talk no more of the glorious uncertainty of the law, for it is nothing, Sir, compared to the caprice of an Italian opera singer, and a French manager.

The great reputation which Signor Donzelli has acquired in all the principal towns in Italy, as well as Paris and London, must, consequently, render his name attractive whenever and wherever it appears in a provincial concert bill;—and, indeed, so it ought; for, if I have been correctly informed, the sum he demanded for coming to Oxford, clearly proves that if he knows how to sing, he knows equally well how to charge. But the strangest part of this strange story is, that one-third of the sum he received is pocketed by M. Laporte. Can this be true?

Having announced our hero’s unexpected arrival at Oxford, let me now introduce you to him at the music-[Pg 74]room. The songs, duets, &c. selected for Signor Donzelli were, of course, Italian; those for our fair countrywomen being in our own language; so that the lovers of English music, and the patrons of native talent, as well as the more fashionable admirers of the Italian school, were equally gratified. The whole of the selection appeared to me to have been made with judgment, and the English and Italian pieces were judiciously intermingled. In the first concert we had two charming Italian duets, ‘Amor, possente nome,’ (Rossini) and ‘Come ti piace imponi,’ (Mozart) both of which were well sung by Miss Shirreff and Signor Donzelli. A pleasing ballad, ‘Light up the gay and festive Hall,’ (Hodson) was chastely given by Miss C. Lyon. In the song ‘Bright flattering days,’ (being English words adapted to the aria ‘Bel l’ Raggio,’ from Rossini’s Semiramide) Miss Shirreff had a fair opportunity of exhibiting her powers, and very much pleased our Oxford audience; and in a ballad, ‘The Arab Maid,’ she displayed the versatility of her talent by accompanying herself on the piano-forte.

This being Signor Donzelli’s first appearance at Oxford, I paid him, whilst he was singing, all the attention that might be naturally expected from an amateur, who was listening to so celebrated a singer for the first time. He is, undoubtedly, a man of great talent, yet if I were sure, Mr. Editor, that you would not censure my temerity, I should say that he lacks judgment in the management of his splendid voice, and that in the two arias ‘Pria che spunti,’ (Cimarosa) and ‘Ah! se forse,’ from Mozart’s Clemenza di Tito, he appeared to me to have forgotten that he was singing in a small concert-room at Oxford, and not on the stage at the King’s Theatre. I was still more confirmed in my opinion when, on the second night, I heard him sing with Miss Shirreff, the lovely duet ‘Ah! perdona,’ and I could not help thinking that compositions like this, where tender elegance is the leading feature, are not so well adapted to his manner, as music of a boisterously impassioned character; and this, to my mind, was clearly exemplified when I heard him later in the evening sing with the same lady the magnificent duet ‘Fuggi! crudele, fuggi!’ from Don Giovanni. In this I thought him great. The cavatina ‘Ah! si per voi già sento,’ (from Rossini’s ‘Otello,’ and which was never, I believe, heard at Oxford before,) he also executed admirably; and sorry I am that I cannot, conscientiously, bestow the same commendation on the aria (a great favourite of mine) ‘Il mio tesoro,’ which I have heard sung with much more feeling and expression than Signor Donzelli imparted to it, though certainly not with so splendid a voice. And here, Sir, I must take leave of the Signor, at least for the present.

Miss C. Lyon had the good sense to introduce Handel’s ‘Hush ye pretty warbling Choir,’ which, I may say, (without meaning to play on the word,) she ‘warbled prettily.’ Miss Shirreff’s ‘Trifler, forbear,’ by Bishop, afforded another proof that we have among us English men who can compose, and English women who can sing.

It would be unjust not to mention that, in the course of the second concert, Mr. T. Welsh introduced Purcell’s ‘Mad Tom,’ which he sung (accompanying himself on the piano-forte) with great effect. The beauties of this composition were not lost upon the audience, and Mr. Welsh’s performance was, very deservedly, much applauded.

P.S.—If Signor Donzelli should receive an application to sing at Oxford again, I would, for his own sake, strongly recommend that, before he accepts it, he will not only finally make up his own mind on the subject, and firmly abide by it, but also ascertain, whether, after being promised leave of absence from the Opera, he may safely rely on M. Laporte’s honourably keeping his word; that is, in case it should so chance that M. Laporte should be the manager of the Italian Opera twelve months hence.

THE SONG OF ‘MAD TOM OF BEDLAM.’

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

It would be difficult, perhaps, now to ascertain at what time, and by whom the song of ‘Mad Tom’ was first ascribed to Purcell; but that it was not always given to him is evident, from its having been inserted in a collection of songs published during his life, and these attributed to another composer, Henry Lawes; and though the claim of the latter may be doubted, from the dissimilarity of its style from that of his other compositions, yet having been published as his by Playford, it is a strong presumptive proof in favour of Lawes, for Playford was a musician of some eminence, and may be supposed to have lived on terms of intimacy with the professors of his day, and therefore well acquainted with their compositions.

With respect to the air which I sent you having been the basis on which the song was made, it may, I think, be inferred from the title that the song was the original, and that being popular, it was in consequence adapted as an air for the Virginals, the title of it, ‘The Man in the Moon,’ being the first line of one of the stanzas in the song: ‘The man in the moon drinks claret.’ The inaccuracies in this air, whatever they may be, must be imputed to the original transcriber, mine being a faithful copy from his book, the date of which, being about twenty years before the birth of Purcell, renders it impossible that he should have been the composer of the song in question.

The latter part of the song, from ‘In my triumphant chariot,’ I have seen printed as a single song, with Haydn’s name to it as the composer.

Can you furnish we with any information respecting the music to which the various songs in the plays of Shakspeare were originally sung, the whole now performed, except the fragments sung by Ophelia, being of modern date?

[Pg 75]

MEMOIRS OF DR. BURNEY, BY HIS DAUGHTER MAD. D’ARBLAY.

[Continued from page 54.]

WE resume our specimens of these volumes with an extract from a letter, giving the authoress’s account of Agujari, who is, by the common consent of contemporary musicians, allowed to have possessed the most wonderful voice that any woman was ever gifted with, (reaching to B flat

in altissimo); and to have been the most talented and splendid singer of her day; but who, being excluded by lameness from the stage, and confined entirely to the church or the concert-room, is less remembered than many theatrical singers who were not possessed of half her merit.

Two following letters of the authoress refer, first to disappointment in going to the Opera, when Gabrielli was advertised but did not sing; and secondly, to disappointment when she did sing. The next letter, giving an account of a concert at Dr. Burney’s house, immediately after the appearance of Gabrielli, we insert entire, as a fair medium specimen of the authoress’s style and talent in that species of writing. The concerts held at Dr. Burney’s appear to have been honoured by the presence of some very high company, though the performances appear to have been confined to the pianoforte, and a little singing, and the performers limited to the Doctor’s family and a few amateurs of rank. Not even a flute or violin is heard of, nor a single professional musician (out of the family) once mentioned as present:—

“You reproach me, my dear Mr. Crisp, for not sending you an account of our last two concerts. But the fact is, I have not anything new to tell you. The music has always been the same: the matrimonial duets are so much à la mode, that no other thing in our house is now demanded.

“But if I can write you nothing new about music—you want, I well know you will say, to hear some conversations.

“My dear Mr. Crisp, there is at this moment, no such thing as conversation. There is only one question asked, meet whom you may, namely; ‘How do you like Gabrielli?’ and only two modes, contradictory to be sure, but very steady, of reply: either, ‘Of all things upon earth!’ or, ‘Not the least bit in the whole world!’

“Well, now I will present you with a specimen, beginning[Pg 76] with our last concert but one, and arranging the persons of the drama in the order of their actual appearance.

“But, imprimis, I should tell you, that the motive to this concert was a particular request to my father from Dr. King, our old friend, and the chaplain to the British—something—at St. Petersburgh, that he would give a little music to a certain mighty personage, who, somehow or other how, must needs take, transiently at least, a front place in future history,—namely, the famed favourite of the Empress Catherine of Russia, Prince Orloff.

“There, my dear Mr. Crisp! what say you to seeing such a doughty personage as that in a private house, at a private party, of a private individual, fresh imported from the Czarina of all the Russias,—to sip a cup of tea in St. Martin’s street?

“I wonder whether future historians will happen to mention this circumstance? I am thinking of sending it to all the keepers of records.

“But I see your rising eyebrow at this name—your start—your disgust—yet big curiosity.

“Well, suppose the family assembled, its honoured chief in the midst—and Tat, tat, tat, tat, at the door.

Enter DR. OGLE, DEAN OF WINCHESTER.

“Dr. Burney, after the usual ceremonies.—‘Did you hear the Gabrielli last night, Mr. Dean?’

“The Dean.—‘No, Doctor, I made the attempt, but soon retreated; for I hate a crowd,—as much as the ladies love it!—I beg pardon!’ bowing with a sort of civil sneer at the Fair Sex.

“My mother was entering upon a spirited defence, when—Tat, tat, tat.

“Enter DR. KING.

“He brought the compliments of Prince Orloff, with his Highness’s apologies for being so late, but he was obliged to dine at Lord Buckingham’s, and thence, to show himself at Lady Harrington’s.

“As nobody thought of inquiring into Dr. King’s opinion of La Gabrielli, conversation was at a stand, till—Tat, tat, tat, tat, too, and

“Enter LADY EDGCUMBE.

“We were all introduced to her, and she was very chatty, courteous, and entertaining.

“Dr. Burney.—‘Your Ladyship was certainly at the Opera last night?’

“Lady Edgcumbe.—‘O yes!—but I have not heard the Gabrielli! I cannot allow that I have yet heard her.’

“Dr. Burney.—‘Your Ladyship expected a more powerful voice?’

“Lady Edgcumbe.—‘Why, n-o—not much. The shadow can tell what the substance must be; but she cannot have acquired this great reputation throughout Europe for nothing. I therefore repeat that I have not yet heard her. She must have had a cold.—But for me—I have heard Mingotti!—I have heard Montecelli!—I have heard Mansuoli!—and I shall never hear them again!’

“The Dean.—‘But, Lady Edgcumbe, may not Gabrielli have great powers, and yet have too weak a voice for so large a theatre?’

“Lady Edgcumbe.—‘Our theatre, Mr. Dean, is of no size to what she had been accustomed to abroad. But,—Dr. Burney, I have also heard the Agujari!’

“Hettina, Fanny, Susanna.—‘Oh! Agujari!’ (All three speaking with clasped hands.)

“Dr. Burney (laughing).—‘Your ladyship darts into all their hearts by naming Agujari! However, I have hopes you will hear her again.’

“Lady Edgcumbe.—‘O, Dr. Burney! bring her but to the Opera,—and I shall grow crazy!’

“I assure you, my dear Mr. Crisp, we all longed to embrace her ladyship. And she met our sympathy with a good humour full of pleasure. My father added, that we all doated upon Agujari.

“Lady Edgcumbe.—‘O! she is incomparable!—Mark but the difference, Dr. Burney; by Gabrielli, Rauzzini seems to have a greet voice;—by Agujari, he seemed to have that of a child.’—

“Tat, tat, tat, tat, too.

“Enter The Hon. MR. and MRS. BRUDENEL,

“Mr. Brudenel,[44] commonly called ‘His Honour,’ from high birth, I suppose, without title, or from some quaint old cause that nobody knows who has let me into its secret, is tall and stiff, and strongly in the ton of the present day; which is anything rather than macaroniism; for it consists of unbounded freedom and ease, with a short, abrupt, dry manner of speech; and in taking the liberty to ask any question that occurs upon other peoples affairs and opinions; even upon their incomes and expenses;—nay, even upon their age!

“Did you ever hear of anything so shocking?

“I do not much mind it now; but, when I grow older, I intend recommending to have this part of their code abolished.

“Mrs. Brudenel is very obliging and pleasing; and of as great fame as a lady-singer, as Lady Edgcumbe is as a first rate lady-player.

“The usual question being asked of La Gabrielli;

“Mrs. Brudenel.—‘O, Lady Edgcumbe and I are entirely of the same opinion; we agree that we have not yet heard her.’

“Lady Edgcumbe.—‘The ceremony of her quitting the theatre after the Opera is over, is extremely curious. First goes a man in livery to clear the way; then follows the sister; then the Gabrielli herself. Then, a little foot-page, to bear her train; and, lastly, another man, who carries her muff, in which is her lap-dog.’

“Mr. Brudenel.—‘But where is Lord March all this time?’

“Lady Edgcumbe (laughing).—‘Lord March? O,—— he, you know, is first Lord of the Bedchamber!’—

“Tat, tat, tat, tat.

“Enter M. le BARON DE DEMIDOFF.

“He is a Russian nobleman, who travels with Prince Orloff; and he preceded his Highness with fresh apologies, and a desire that the concert might not wait, as he would only show himself at Lady Harrington’s, and hasten hither.

“My father then attended Lady Edgcumbe to the Library, and Mr. Burney took his place at the harpsichord.

“We all followed. He was extremely admired; but I have nothing new to tell you upon that subject.

“Then enter Mr. Chamier. Then followed several others; and then

“Enter MR. HARRIS, of Salisbury.

“Susan and I quite delighted in his sight, he is so amiable to talk with, and so benevolent to look at. Lady Edgcumbe rose to meet him, saying he was her particular old friend. He then placed himself by Susan and me, and renewed acquaintance in the most pleasing manner possible. I told him we were all afraid he would be tired to death of so much of one thing, for we had nothing to offer him but again the duet. ‘That is the very reason I solicited to come,’ he answered; ‘I was so much charmed the last time, that I begged Dr. Burney to give me a repetition of the same pleasure.’

“‘Then—of course, the Opera? The Gabrielli?’

“Mr. Harris declared himself her partisan.

“Lady Edgcumbe warmed up ardently for Agujari.

“Mr. Dean.—‘But pray, Dr. Burney, why should not these two melodious signoras sing together, that we might judge them fairly?’

“Dr. Burney.—‘Oh! the rivalry would be too strong. It would create a musical ear. It would be Cæsar and Pompey.’

“Lady Edgcumbe.—‘Pompey the Little, then, I am sure would be la Gabrielli!’

“Enter LORD BRUCE.

“He is a younger brother not only of the Duke of Montagu, but of his Honour Brudenel. How the titles came to be so awkwardly arranged in this family is no affair of mine; so you will excuse my sending you to the Herald’s Office, if you went that information, my dear Mr. Crisp; though as you are one of the rare personages who are skilled in everything yourself,—at least so says my father;—and he is a Doctor, you know!—I dare say you will genealogize the matter to me at once, when next I come to dear Chesington.

[Pg 77]

“He is tall, thin, and plain, but remarkably sensible, agreeable, and polite: as, I believe, are very generally all those keen-looking Scotchmen; for Scotch, not from his accent, but his name, I conclude him of course. Can Bruce be other than Scotch? They are far more entertaining, I think, as well as informing, taken in the common run, than we silentious English; who, taken en masse, are tolerably dull.

“The Opera?—the Gabrielli?—were now again brought forward. Lady Edgcumbe, who is delightfully music mad, was so animated, that she was quite the life of the company.

“At length—Tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, too!

“Enter HIS HIGHNESS PRINCE ORLOFF.

“Have you heard the dreadful story of the thumb, by which this terrible Prince is said to have throttled the late emperor of Russia, Peter, by suddenly pressing his windpipe while he was drinking? I hope it is not true; and Dr. King, of whom, while he resided in Russia, Prince Orloff was the patron, denies the charge. Nevertheless, it is so currently reported, that neither Susan nor I could keep it one moment from our thoughts; and we both shrunk from him with secret horror, heartily wishing him in his own Black Sea.

“His sight, however, produced a strong sensation, both in those who believed, and those who discredited this disgusting barbarity; for another story, not perhaps, of less real, though less sanguinary guilt, is not a tale of rumour, but a crime of certainty; namely, that he is the first favourite of the cruel inhuman Empress—if it be true that she connived at this horrible murder.

“His Highness was immediately preceded by another Russian nobleman, whose name I have forgot; and followed by a noble Hessian, General Bawr.

“Prince Orloff is of stupendous stature, something resembling Mr. Bruce. He is handsome, tall, fat, upright, magnificent. His dress was superb. Besides the blue garter, he had a star of diamonds of prodigious brilliancy, a shoulder-knot of the same lustre and value, and a picture of the Empress hung about his neck, set round with diamonds of such brightness and magnitude, that, when near the light, they were too dazzling for the eye. His jewels, Dr. King says, are estimated at one hundred thousand pounds sterling.

“His air and address are showy, striking, and assiduously courteous. He had a look that frequently seemed to say, ‘I hope you observe that I come from a polished court?—I hope you take note that I am no Cossack?’—Yet, with all this display of commanding affability, he seems, from his native taste and humour, ‘agreeably addicted to pleasantry.’ He speaks very little English, but knows French perfectly.

“His introduction to my father, in which Dr. King pompously figured, passed in the drawing-room. The library was so crowded, that he could only show himself at the door, which was barely high enough not to discompose his prodigious toupee.

“He bowed to Mr. Chamier, then my next neighbour, whom he had somewhere met; but I was so impressed by the shocking rumours of his horrible actions, that involuntarily I drew back even from a bow of vicinity; murmuring to Mr. Chamier, ‘He looks so potent and mighty. I do not like to be near him!’

“‘He has been less unfortunate,’ answered Mr. Chamier, archly, ‘elsewhere; such objection has not been made to him by all ladies!’

“Lord Bruce, who knew, immediately rose to make way for him, and moved to another end of the room. The Prince instantly held out his vast hand, in which, if he had also held a cambric handkerchief, it must have looked like a white flag on the top of a mast,—so much higher than the most tip-top height of every head in the room was his spread-out arm, as he exclaimed, ‘Ah! milord me fuit!’

“His Honour, then, rising also, with a profound reverence, offered his seat to his Highness; but he positively refused to accept it, and declared that if Mr. Brudenel would not be seated, he would himself retire; and seeing Mr. Brudenel demur, still begging his Highness to take the chair, he cried with a laugh, but very peremptorily, ‘Non, non, Monsieur! Je ne le veux pas! Je suis opiniatre, moi; un peu comme Messieurs les Anglais!’

“Mr. Brudenel then reseated himself: and the corner of a form appearing to be vacant, from the pains taken by poor Susan to shrink away from Mr. Orloff, his Highness suddenly dropped down upon it his immense weight, with a force—notwithstanding a palpable and studied endeavour to avoid doing mischief—that threatened his gigantic person with plumping upon the floor; and terrified all on the opposite side of the form with the danger of visiting the ceiling.

“Perceiving Susan strive, though vainly, from want of space, to glide farther off from him, and struck, perhaps, by her sweet countenance, ‘Ah. ha!’ he cried, ‘Je tiens ici, je vois, une petite Prisonnière!’

“Charlotte, blooming like a budding little Hebe, actually stole into a corner, from affright at the whispered history of his thumb ferocity.

“Mr. Chamier, who now probably had developed what passed in my mind, contrived, very comically, to disclose his similar sentiment; for, making a quiet way to my ear, he said, in a low voice, ‘I wish Dr. Burney had invited Omiah here tonight, instead of Prince Orloff!’ Meaning, no doubt, of the two exotics, he should have preferred the most innocent!

“The grand duet of Müthel was now called for, and played. But I can tell you nothing extra of the admiration it excited. Your Hettina looked remarkably pretty; and, added to the applause given to the music, every body had something to observe upon the singularity of the performers being husband and wife. Prince Orloff was witty quite to facetiousness; sarcastically marking something beyond what he said, by a certain ogling, half cynical, half amorous cast of his eyes; and declaring he should take care to initiate all the foreign academies of natural philosophy in the secret of the harmony that might be produced by such nuptial concord.

“The Russian nobleman who accompanied Prince Orloff, and who knew English, they told us, so well that he was the best interpreter for his Highness in his visits, gave us now a specimen of his proficiency; for, clapping his forefinger upon a superfine snuff-box, he exclaimed, when the duet was finished, ‘Ma foi, dis is so pretty as never I hear in my life!’

“General Bawr, also, to whom Mr. Harris directed my attention, was greatly charmed. He is tall, and of stern and martial aspect. ‘He is a man,’ said Mr. Harris, ‘to be looked at, from his courage, conduct, and success during the last Russian war; when, though a Hessian by birth, he was a Lieutenant General in the service of the Empress of Russia; and obtained the two military stars, which you now see him wear on each side, by his valour.’

“But the rapture of Lady Edgcumbe was more lively than that of any other. ‘Oh, Dr. Burney,’ she cried, ‘you have set me a madding! I would willingly practise night and day to be able to perform in such a manner. I vow I would rather hear that extraordinary duet played in that extraordinary manner, than twenty operas!’

“Her ladyship was now introduced to Prince Orloff, whom she had not happened to meet with before; and they struck up a most violent flirtation together. She invited him to her house, and begged leave to send him her card. He accepted the invitation, but begged leave to fetch the card in person. She should be most happy, she said, to receive him, for though she had but a small house, she had a great ambition. And so they went on, in gallant courtesie, till, once again, the question was brought back of the Opera, and the Gabrielli.

“The Prince declared that she had not by any means sung as well as at St. Petersburgh; and General Bawr protested that, had he shut his eyes, he should not again have known her.

“Then followed, to vary the entertainment, singing by Mrs. Brudenel.

“Prince Orloff inquired very particularly of Dr. King who we four young female Burneys were; for we were all dressed alike on account of our mourning; and when Dr. King answered, ‘Dr. Burney’s daughters,’ he was quite astonished; for he had not thought our dear father, he said, more than thirty years of age, if so much.

“Mr. Harris, in a whisper, told me he wished some of the ladies would desire to see the miniature of the Empress a little nearer, the monstrous height of the Prince putting it quite out[Pg 78] of view to his old eyes and short figure; and being a man, he could not, he said, presume to ask such an indulgence as that of holding it in his own hands.

“Delighted to do any thing for this excellent Mr. Harris, and quite at my ease with poor prosing Dr. King, I told him the wish of Mr. Harris.

“Dr. King whispered the desire to M. de Demidoff; M. de Demidoff did the same to General de Bawr; and General de Bawr dauntlessly made the petition to the Prince, in the name of The Ladies.

“The Prince laughed, rather sardonically; yet with ready good humour complied; telling the General, pretty much sans ceremonie, to untie the ribbon round his neck, and give the picture into the possession of The Ladies.

“He was very gallant and debonnaire upon the occasion, entreating they would by no means hurry themselves; yet his smile, as his eye sharply followed the progress, from hand to hand, of the miniature, had a suspicious cast of investigating whether it would be worth his while to ask any favour of them in return! and through all the superb magnificence of his display of courtly manners, a little bit of the Cossack, methought, broke out, when he desired to know whether The Ladies wished for any thing else? declaring, with a smiling bow, and rolling, languishing, yet half contemptuous eyes, that, if The Ladies would issue their commands, they should strip him entirely!

“You may suppose, after that, nobody asked for a closer view of any more of his ornaments! The good, yet unaffectedly humorous philosopher of Salisbury, could not help laughing, even while actually blushing at it, that his own curiosity should have involved The Ladies in this supercilious sort of sarcastic homage.

“There was hardly any looking at the picture of the Empress for the glare of the diamonds. One of them, I really believe, was as big as a nutmeg: though I am somewhat ashamed to undignify my subject by so culinary a comparison.

“When we were all satisfied, the miniature was restored by General Bawr to the Prince, who took it with stately complacency; condescendingly making a smiling bow to each fair female who had had possession of it; and receiving from her in return a lowly courtesy.

“Mr. Harris, who was the most curious to see the Empress, because his son, Sir James [45], was, or is intended to be, minister at her court, had slily looked over every shoulder that held her; but would not venture, he archly whispered, to take the picture in his own hands, lest he should be included, by the Prince, amongst The Ladies, as an old woman!

“Have you had enough of this concert, my dear Mr. Crisp? I have given it in detail, for the humour of letting you see how absorbing of the public voice is La Gabrielli: and, also, for describing to you Prince Orloff; a man who, when time lets out facts, and drives in mysteries, must necessarily make a considerable figure, good or bad—but certainly not indifferent,—in European History. Besides, I want your opinion, whether there is not an odd and striking resemblance in general manners, as well as in Herculean strength and height, in this Siberian Prince and his Abyssinian Majesty?”—vol. ii. p. 43–60.

The authoress’s account of the publication of the first volume of Dr. Burney’s History of Music, and its presentation to the Queen, occupies three pages, but contains no new information whatever, except that the Doctor was so delighted by her Majesty’s condescension in receiving the presentation copy, that he thenceforward never omitted to attend the Court on the birth-days. The shortness of this musical article is, however, immediately and fully made up for by an episode of full fifty pages, about Streatham, the Thrales, Dr. Johnson, Piozzi, &c.; in which all that relates to Dr. Burney might be comprised in almost as many words. But the authoress must be forgiven; she evidently wrote these memoirs under at least a double influence, and over her pen

The next episode which the authoress has introduced is one on which we would willingly be silent, and which we heartily wish, for her own sake, she had either omitted, or, at least, curtailed within one tenth the limits to which it is extended. It is the history of the origin, writing, printing, and anonymous publication of the authoress’s first novel, which every patron and patroness of a circulating library still knows is entitled ‘EVELINA; or, a Young Lady’s Introduction into Life;’ together with the further history of the effect this anonymous novel made, first in the novel reading, and then in the literary world; then the discovery of the authoress, which, curiously enough, seems to have been first made by the Doctor himself; who, by the way, was in the secret of his daughter’s being an authoress; though ignorant whether her maiden production was a spelling book or a homily; then the anonymous triumphs achieved by Evelina over Dr. Johnson, Sir Joshua Reynolds, &c.; then the bashful, half-reluctant consent that Mrs. Thrale, if pleased by reading it, might be admitted into the secret; and, finally, the full meridian blaze of popularity with Honourables and Right Honourables, Doctors, M.P.’s, statesmen, Lords Chancellor, and bas bleus, sounding aloft its praises from one end of the English Parnassus to the other. All this occupies fifty goodly pages, closed by an extract from a memorandum book of the Doctor’s, which gives the pith of the story in two,—but in which, singularly enough, the Doctor, though penning a private memorandum, never hints at how or whence he came to the knowledge of the secret. But this is not the worst; the game once started is never allowed to rest,—throughout the remainder of the volume scarce a conversation is reported which does not contain some well-turned compliment (always from some leading character) to Evelina and its authoress. At a bas-bleu meeting Mr. Soame Jenyns stands up, and delivers a regular eulogium on Evelina and its authoress. Sir Joshua Reynolds gives a dinner, to introduce to each other (we hardly know which to place in the first rank of celebrity, so follow the rule of Plâce aux Dames) the Authoress of Evelina and the Right Honourable Edmund Burke. At this dinner the following remarks were made, and are detailed by the authoress herself:—

“There has been,” Mr. Burke then, smilingly, resumed, “an age for all excellence; we have had an age for statesmen; an age for heroes; an age for poets; an age for artists;—but This,” bowing down, with an air of obsequious gallantry, his head almost upon the table cloth, “This is the age for women!”

“A very happy modern improvement!” cried Sir Joshua, laughing; “don’t you think so, Miss Burney?—but that’s not a fair question to put to you; so we won’t make a point of your answering it. However,” continued the dear natural knight, “what Mr. Burke says is very true, now. The women begin to make a figure in every thing. Though I remember, when I first came into the world, it was thought but a poor compliment to say a person did a thing like a lady!”

“Ay, Sir Joshua,” cried my father, “but like Moliere’s physician, nous avons changé tout cela!”

“Very true, Dr. Burney,” replied the Knight; “but I remember the time—and so, I dare say, do you—when it was thought a slight, if not a sneer, to speak any thing of a lady’s performance: it was only in mockery to talk of painting like a lady; singing like a lady; playing like a lady—”

“But now,” interrupted Mr. Burke, warmly, “to talk of writing like a lady, is the greatest compliment that need be wished for by a man!”

Would you believe it, my daddy—every body now, himself and my father excepted, turned about, Sir Joshua leading the way—to make a little playful bow to—can you ever guess to whom?—vol. ii. pp. 236, 237.

We do not complain that this was originally confided to[Pg 79] an old, a fraternal friend, in all the warm glow of surprise, raised pride, and gratified feelings; but we do think that a lapse of fifty years should have somewhat tempered that glow, if it did not even suggest something like a question whether all these hyperbolical compliments, bestowed at last upon a production of no higher class than a novel, could be quite sincere. But enough on this subject; we have been led further into it than we at first intended, and abandon it with much more satisfaction than we took it up.

WHATEVER hopes we might have been led to entertain, at the commencement of the last season, from the change of circumstances which had occurred, by which a nobleman of great musical reputation became a director, and a gentlemen of no mean acquirements was appointed conductor of these concerts; we must confess, that, as the season advanced, these hopes, like the girdle of the Lady of Avenel, gradually diminished, and at the termination of the series, we had nearly abandoned the expectation of their further continuance. We are, however, in this respect agreeably disappointed; we say agreeably, because from early associations and long-confirmed habits, we are disposed to cling to the wreck, whilst ‘a plank of the vessel’ remains. With all its faults, both of omission and commission, its ‘short-comings and mis-doings,’ the Ancient Concert is endeared to us by a thousand interesting reminiscences: it was an assemblage of the great and mighty of the land, and ‘king’s daughters were among her honourable women.’ Even at this distant period, we cannot recall to mind the exquisite strains of a Banti, a Mara, a Billington, a Bartleman, &c., without sensations that thrill through our very frame.

FIRST CONCERT OF ANCIENT MUSIC,
Under the Direction of his Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland, Wednesday, March 6, 1833.

This concert is so much beyond the average quality of the Royal Duke’s ordinary selections, that we are inclined to believe that though his, nominally, yet that the conductor may have had the chief hand in it. ‘The voice is Jacob’s voice; but the hands are the hands of Esau.’ Be this, however, as it may, if we must listen to the same music over and over again, we had rather endure the repetition of that which is good, than of mere trash, none of which can be found in the present concert. At the rehearsal on Monday, ‘Zadok the priest’ was the opening piece, and the very fine chorus, ‘Let old Timotheus,’ concluded the first act; but this last was omitted on Wednesday night, to make room for the oft-repeated movement from the Funeral Anthem, a change considerably for the worse. Miss Masson, whose first appearance we noticed in the third concert of the season of 1831, sang the song allotted to her (No. 5) very respectably; the same huskiness of voice which we then observed is still perceptible; perhaps it is only the effect of a cold; some of her tones are exceedingly good, and her expression not without feeling. The novelty of the evening was the appearance of Mr. Machin, who possesses a fine bass voice, and seems to understand what he is about. He gave his recitative and song with great propriety; we shall be glad to hear him again. We defer for the present our sentiments respecting the Madrigals (No. 2 and 15), as our limits will not allow taking up the subject here; we propose noticing them in our account of the next concert. We cannot pass over the quartet and chorus from Marcello, without recording our approbation. We believe the late conductor, as well as the present, both arranged these movements from the forty-eighth psalm; to which of the two the merit belongs of this night’s performance, we cannot say; either might be justly proud of it, and thus ‘divide the crown.’

SECOND CONCERT OF ANCIENT MUSIC,
Under the direction of Lord Burghersh, for His Royal Highness, the Duke of Cambridge, Wednesday, March 13, 1833.

For years past, the attempt to get up a madrigal at the Ancient Concerts was little more than a failure. Lord[Pg 80] Fortescue was attached to this species of composition, and while his health permitted him to take an active share in the direction, madrigals were occasionally introduced, but without effect. The causes which led to this arose out of the defective system to which we have frequently alluded, and were sufficiently evident to any one possessing some experience in this style of music. In the preceding concert, two madrigals were performed, and also two in the present (Nos. 3 and 9). The conductor has adopted a new plan, which has succeeded well, thus far: there is yet ample room for improvement, which we do not despair of witnessing, if he persevere in his endeavours to accomplish. Instead of sitting before the instrument and thumping it, by way of marking the time, he quits the chair, and standing in front of the orchestra, with baton in hand, gives the time in a way to be seen by every performer. But he must not stop here: at present, the whole body of chorus-singers are employed—if, indeed, these singers were drilled in the same admirable mode that the German chorus, who performed at the Opera House last summer, were, then might a similar powerful effect be produced by the same attention to the piano and forte, the delightful crescendo and diminuendo, the beautiful precision, and the nice blending of the different voices, creating, as it were, an ensemble quite unrivalled. But as the Ancient Concert chorus is at a considerable distance from that just described, we are confident that if about four or five voices to each part were selected from the main body, comprising of course all the principal singers, the result would be highly beneficial. At present, the female singers appear to have no idea of what they are required to do; each seems determined to be heard, by singing as loud as possible, thus overpowering the other parts, the basses especially, and materially injuring the general effect. Among the altos and tenors also, there are some harsh discordant voices, which might be omitted in the selection with great advantage to the performance. We shall again revert to this subject.

Of the present concert we cannot but speak with respect; notwithstanding its containing much that has been repeated from year to year, yet no trash can be found to disfigure and degrade it. We protest, however, against the arbitrary and uncalled-for act, of curtailing the subscribers of a portion of their due, the effect of which is plainly visible in this selection. The book announces the Overture to Saul, but the band played only the first movement, omitting the other three; one of which (the third) is an obligato for the organ: this has always been omitted, owing, it used to be said, to the nervousness of the late conductor—is the present conductor equally nervous? we would fain hope the contrary, if only for the honour of the Ancient Concert, which has a sad lee-way in reputation to fetch up. Only one movement of the noble opening chorus was performed. We thoroughly dislike these un ancient mutilations, which we had hoped the influence of the new conductor would be exerted to remedy. Miss Masson sang a song from Handel’s opera of Teseo, which did her great credit: it is too good to be popular, though we had the pleasure of hearing her in the same song at the Philharmonic, and also at the Vocal Concert, and in both instances she received great applause. Mr. Parry made his first appearance here, and executed his song (No. 2) with judgment, by not attempting to introduce embellishments where they would be entirely misplaced. Mr. Bennett also made his first appearance at these concerts in the fine song in The Creation. (No. 8.) We shall have no objection to hear him again, which we could wish to do, before pronouncing an opinion—our impression, however, is favourable. Mr. Machin took the second bass in Handel’s noble duet (No. 13), and confirmed the view we took of his performance in the preceding concert. Mr. Phillips acquitted himself with great credit in the first bass; each party felt emulous to do his best, and both were successful. Stevens’s lovely glee (No. 12) was encored, a just compliment to its merits. We have been accustomed to hear it sung by two trebles, tenor and bass, which we consider to be more effective, than with one treble and an alto.

Signor Donzelli, in the quartet (No. 6), sadly overpowered his companions, producing an effect almost ludicrous; he has certainly a voice of amazing power; but we might apostrophise it in the language of the great bard:—

In his song from Jomelli (No. 14), he was occasionally too flat; indeed, the same observation applies to his singing in the quartet, where he was by no means in strict tune throughout.

We omitted to notice, in our introductory remarks, the alteration which has taken place in the orchestra, by bringing it more forward into the room, and lowering it in front—it is a decided improvement—which we are informed we owe to the Philharmonic Society, whose concerts have been removed from the Opera House to these rooms.

THIRD CONCERT OF ANCIENT MUSIC,
Under the Direction of Lord Cawdor, Wednesday, March 20, 1833.

The Queen was present at this concert, attended by the Marchioness of Westmeath, another lady, and Lord Denbigh, her Majesty’s Lord Chamberlain.

Having on former occasions given our opinion without reserve, on the propriety of receiving the Queen at the concert of Ancient Music, in the same way which has always been observed at the theatres, but which never was practised here, under the ancien régime, we shall merely remark, that we have heard the ‘National Anthem’ much better performed at the theatres, than it was done now, the solo parts more especially. The Occasional Overture[Pg 81] was played extremely well; but the fugue was too slow, though in the same time in which the late conductor gave it. We are confident the effect would be improved, by performing the overtures of Handel generally a shade faster than is at present done. The charming concerto of Martini (No. 5) was indeed a treat. Mr. Cramer may be said to be identified with these beautiful compositions, which are unheeded and unknown, except at these concerts; and which a prurient taste for florid and over-loaded accompaniment has nearly put hors de combat.

The madrigal (No. 4) was very creditably done. Mr. Knyvett has succeeded in bringing about an essential improvement in the performance of this most interesting style of music; we trust to his judgment for further efforts towards perfection. There are few difficulties over which patience and perseverance will not obtain the mastery. Mr. Phillips sang his song (No. 2) with great spirit, and without rant; we do not recollect ever to have heard him with more effect. The chorus which succeeds went off equally well: it is an admirable specimen of the genius of its immortal author. The fine Sestet of Pergolesi (No. 7) was very fairly executed; it is a difficult piece to do well: every one must perform their part without flinching, as each must be considered as an obligato. To speak in terms of praise of the chorus which followed is superfluous; it ranks among the noblest of the many noble compositions of the same great musician. Ardently do we wish to hear from time to time more of his charming productions: his Stabat Mater, Grand Mass, Salve Regina, and other splendid writings, surely would afford ample materials from which to select, if those in authority were competent to the task. Hinc illæ lachrymæ.

With much pleasure we notice the duet (No. 16), which we believe has never been done here before—certainly not for many years. The compositions of this elegant writer are comparatively unknown; but only require to be heard, in order to be duly appreciated by those who understand and value that which is of sterling quality. The young lady who took the upper part made her début this evening at these concerts; she appears very young, but her manner did not discover any of that embarras, usually so trying to young performers; she possesses considerable compass of voice, and sang with correctness. The musical public are under no small obligation to this young lady’s father, for having brought to light much excellent music, which his indefatigable industry and research drew from the dust and cobwebs, ‘the rust of ages,’ under which it had long slumbered ‘neglected and forgotten.’ One of the numerous instances of that slavish attention to precedent, that horror of departing from the old beaten track, which has mainly contributed to reduce the Ancient Concerts to their present standard, occurs in the second act, where the batch of choruses from Israel in Egypt are placed. Between Nos. 12 and 13, Handel has inserted a very fine one, a masterpiece of learning, yet smooth and flowing in its construction; this admirable chorus we never remember to have heard here, though the two, between which it stands, are done every season. We allude to ‘Egypt was glad when they departed.’ These are points, surely, to which the influence of the present conductor might extend, if he were so disposed.

The final chorus, which was to have been the magnificent ‘Cum Sancto Spiritu’ of Pergolesi, was exchanged for the one from the Messiah (No. 19): if this originated with the director of the night, we cannot compliment him upon his musical taste; perhaps, however, it was a suggestion from a quarter to which he could not but accede. We cannot consider it as an improvement.

PHILHARMONIC CONCERTS.

The Philharmonic Society celebrated its coming of age this year—the present being its twenty-first season—in a manner not at all unusual with those who attain their majority, namely, by changing its domicile, and has gained many important advantages by removing.

The great defect in the Hanover Square Rooms, as injudiciously altered many years ago, by the directors of the Ancient Concerts, was, the height of the orchestra from the floor, owing to which, sound seemed to be confined in a gallery,—was half lost before it reached the audience; not to mention the ill effect produced on it by striking the roof before sufficient space had been given for its expansion; and it actually passed over the heads of all those who sat near the performers.

The orchestra is now sloped down to within about four feet of the ground, and the front is consequently advanced a considerable distance further into the room, thus admitting a much greater number of performers, and bringing the singers, concerto-players, &c. nearly on a level with the company; that is, only so much elevated as to be seen in all parts of the saloon. The great and beneficial effect of this alteration was universally admitted, and rooms acknowledged to be the worst in London for music, are now confessedly become the best.

The two symphonies in this opening concert were executed in a manner that left no doubt on the minds of the audience as to the continued efficiency of the band. Indeed, we are not aware that any change has taken place in it since the former season; it was, and is, filled by the highest talent which this country can produce. Haydn’s 11th grand, though not of so imposing a nature as most of the twelve composed for Salomon, is full of originality and beauty, and not being so often heard as some of the others, has a freshness which increases its charms. The overture to Oberon was as perfect as its great composer himself could have wished. The Demophon very well answered the purpose of a finale.

The clarinet concerto of Spohr, in E flat, was by all felt to be too long: many bars, both in the first and last move[Pg 82]ment, which are nothing but unnecessary reiterations, might have been curtailed, much to the advantage of all parties,—composer, performer, and hearers. Had this discretion been shown, the adagio in A flat, a rich and lovely movement, would certainly have met with an encore. This was played in an exquisite manner, though Mr. Willman did not seem at his ease in the other parts; they evidently cost him great labour, but made no adequate return. Beethoven’s quintet, the first in C, op. 29, was executed in a very masterly style by Mori and his coadjutors; the slow movement was played in a remarkably fine manner; but though the whole abounds in genius, it has the defect of much modern music, is somewhat too long; and when before large mixed audiences, performers would act prudently in omitting the repeats.

The vocal pieces in this concert did not show much research or vigour in the selection of them. The two first arie, excellent as they are, have been heard till they pall on the ear; and Donzelli with his mighty voice, is resolved that at all times, and in every kind of music, its utmost power shall be displayed. Piano is a term unknown in his vocabulary; or else softness is despised by him, as an indication of effeminacy or idleness. This is the more to be regretted, because, had he a little light and shade in his singing, he would be the first Italian tenor in Europe. Mrs. Wood, in Spohr’s air, was admirable; and though a cadence to this was not only unnecessary, but ill-judged, yet, as a cadence, it was in exceedingly good keeping. The fine duet of Rossini is, like all his best music, worn to tatters, and, though well sung, was received with icy coldness.

Spohr’s symphony in D, dedicated to this society, certainly improves upon acquaintance. Written as it is, and as most of this composer’s works are, after Mozart’s models, it still is not devoid of original traits: while in fulness of harmony, and that kind of finish which well-directed labour produces, it has never been surpassed. We have not heard Beethoven’s symphony in A better executed, hardly ever so well. The second movement [46],—to the merits of which we have often attempted to do justice—was, as usual, encored. The overture to Euryanthe received equal justice from the hands of this matchless band. This is one of those compositions which do not develope their beauties on a first or even a second hearing; but the fine imagination of Weber, his taste and artistic skill, are as fully displayed in this as in any of his better-known orchestral productions. Cherubini’s overture savours of mannerism; it is nearly made up of passages from his other works.

Mr. Cramer’s quintet—to compose which he was recently engaged by the society—aims at nothing grand, makes no attempt to surprise, either by eccentricity of melody or studied and far-fetched modulation; but a well-considered design is conspicuous in each movement, and the whole, particularly the slow movement, is marked by that elegance which is this author’s attribute. The first movement is an allegro in B flat; the second a largo in F; and the last a rondo in six-quaver time. The performance of this was in Cramer’s well-known exquisite and unrivalled style,—for who like him knows how to touch the instrument!—and his efforts were met with that attention and applause which they so richly deserved [47].

Mr. Wolff, first a pupil of Spagnoletti, then of Mayseder, displayed considerable ability in his concerto. If his intonation was not always quite exact—if he sometimes attempted more than he could with great nicety perform, the occasional imperfections may possibly be imputed to the nervousness arising from a débût, and before such an audience. Wishing that he had more of his first master than of his second in his style—more of the solid and less of the glittering—we still think that there is great promise in this performer but are not so well convinced that the Philharmonic Concert was exactly the place for his first performance.

The scena and aria of Handel are worthy of the master, and pleased as novelties, for every part of the opera is totally unknown. Rage and revenge are here expressed, according to the fashion of the day, in long divisions; but these very divisions render the air unfit for Miss Masson’s voice, which has but little flexibility, and proved unequal to the many passages requiring quick and distinct articulation. Her shake too, a grace, if grace it must be called, is anything but perfect, and unfortunately was here frequently introduced, greatly to the regret of those who know how to appreciate this lady’s talents, which are of a high order, but in the present air much misemployed. The duet from Jessonda was chosen for her with much more judgment. Mozart’s aria, from the appendix to his Così fan tutte, is a fine composition, abounding in the riches both of melody and accompaniment, but Mad. de Meric had fatigued herself by previously singing at the theatre, and certainly did not make the most of what was now assigned to her. The terzetto—another hacknied piece—was correctly performed; but this wants the stage; in concert-room it ranks as a second-rate composition, whatever the through-thick-and-thin admirers of the author may say to the contrary.

[Pg 83]

VOCAL SOCIETY.

In the composition of a concert, as in that of a good picture, an attention to the chiaro scuro is of essential importance: some of the noblest efforts of the pencil owe no small degree of their merit and high reputation to the skilful management of the artist in a judicious blending of his light and shade. The same principle, applying in the one case to the organ of vision, is of equal force in reference to the organ of audition. The concert under present consideration affords an apt illustration of our meaning: in variety of authorship, and in intrinsic excellence, there is little room for objection; but it is very deficient in what the French term les nuances. A succession of elaborate pieces compose the first act, giving a sombre complexion to the whole, which might easily have been avoided by throwing in occasional relief. The opening piece, by being chorus throughout, did not produce anything like the effect of Battishill’s Anthem at the commencement of the second concert, where a charming verse for three voices, between the first and last chorus, affords the most agreeable relief to the musical ear: we are here speaking of effect, not intending any invidious comparison between Orlando Gibbons and Jonathan Battishill, who were both splendid writers; and we heartily wish we had heard much more of the works of these truly great musicians at the concerts of the Vocal Society. In a mixed audience, various tastes must, of course, be expected; and without departing from the dignity which ought never to be lost sight of in the conduct and management of such concerts as these, still we contend that music of a somewhat lighter character might be most advantageously introduced, to the general improvement of the evening’s performance; always remembering, that light music and trifling music are by no means synonymous.

As we shall probably, in our notice of the concluding concert, take a short retrospective view of the whole, we will not at present say more on this topic; but proceed to remark briefly on certain points immediately connected with this night’s performance. The two Madrigals, (Nos. 6 and 15,) though of unequal merit, were both encored, and were the only encores of the evening. We rejoice to witness the favour and acceptance which these compositions meet with; it is highly creditable to the musical feelings of the audience, and a satisfactory answer to those who affect to say that music of this description is entirely out of fashion. Miss Shirreff’s ‘Mad Bess’ wanted ease; she had evidently studied the part, but perhaps this very circumstance was too apparent, and gave the idea of a laboured performance: we must be permitted to express our surprise at the piano-forte accompaniment of Mr. T. Welsh, which we cannot but think his better judgment must disapprove; running up and down the keys may display the dexterity of the player, but it ought not to be at the expense of the composer, especially of such a composer as Henry Purcell. An elegant and pleasing glee (No. 12) of Mr. W. Linley’s was heard with great attention and evident satisfaction, and had it been done at an earlier period of the evening, would doubtless have been repeated. The Witches’ Song and Chorus (No. 14) of Mr. Stevens strongly reminds us of Purcell; it is a composition of great merit: the chorus should have been repeated. As an instance of the working of the system of admitting single tickets, we observed an individual in boots, and with an umbrella under his arm, walk up to the upper end of the room, where he stood in a very conspicuous situation during the whole of the concert. This is too bad.

The sixth and concluding concert of the series having now taken place, we may fairly offer our congratulations to the Society on the patronage and success which it has met with. The attempt was, in every point of view, commendable; and the ardour and zeal with which it has been followed up, such as, while it deserved success, we have every reason to believe has abundantly experienced it. We take for granted that these concerts will be continued another season, and therefore proceed briefly to review what has, as also what has not been done; which may not be altogether without advantage to future arrangements.

In the Prospectus issued by the Vocal Society, it is stated that ‘the compositions of native musicians are nearly banished from the concerts of the metropolis; the glees of Webbe, Callcott, Cooke, and Battishill, as well as those of their living successors, being superseded by the productions of foreign composers;’ and further, ‘the intention of the Vocal Society is to present, as its principal feature, the vocal music of the English school, both ancient and modern, including that of the church, the chamber, and the theatre.’ Taking the four names above mentioned—and they are names that claim the highest rank in the department of glee writing—it is somewhat remarkable that only three of Webbe’s have been produced, which, with an ode and a catch, form the catalogue of his compositions; of Callcott, one glee and one catch only; of Dr. Cooke, who in sterling merit we should scarcely hesitate to place at the top of the list, one glee only; and of Battishill, of whose elegant melodies and sound harmonies it were impossible to speak too highly, not a single glee has been done. We might go on to mention the names of Danby, Robert Cooke, and other charming English composers, known but to few; but whose music would infallibly delight and captivate an audience brought together to enjoy compositions of superlative excellence. Of the Madrigals introduced, the effect has exceeded our previously formed anticipations; they were executed generally with correctness and precision highly creditable to all parties; and the manner in which they were received by the audience was a sufficient hint how acceptable they were. Of English church music, the portion given has been very scanty. Part of an anthem of Battishill’s, part or one by Orlando Gibbons, and one by Dr. Greene, comprise the whole. Of theatrical music, not a note, with the exception of Mr. Bishop’s, has been heard. Of Henry Purcell, the pride and ornament of the English school, one piece has been given [48], and that, one of his most hackneyed compositions, brought forward on frequent occasions, as offering a test to try the merits of young musical aspirants, who in their adventurous flight have too often met the fate of Icarus, by thus soaring too high. In regard to the works of living writers, the committee of managers must have felt great difficulty: and this feeling by no means lessened, we conceive, owing to the circumstance of some of its members being themselves composers. So strongly, indeed, are we impressed with this idea, that, if it should form part of the Society’s plan to change the committee from year to year, we would venture to hint at the propriety of excluding composers from being elected; not from any apprehension of their abusing their trust, but solely with the view of securing independence and impartiality in the execution of a duty requiring both delicacy and firmness.

In regard to the foreign music which has been performed, when it is considered that the principal feature of these concerts was stated to be ‘to present the vocal music of the English school,’ it would appear as if this intention had been materially departed from, in the number of Italian and German compositions which are to be found. Without detracting in the slightest degree from the merit of these, we still entertain great doubt as to the policy of the measure: take, for instance, Mozart, one of the most admirable writers of either ancient or modern date, whose music, whether for ‘the church, the chamber, or the theatre,’ was never more in fashion than in the present day, and may be constantly heard in all parties, both public and private. We observe three, and sometimes four pieces of Mozart in the same evening, and not one of the six concerts without his music. With all our high respect for this eminent man, we could have wished to hear less of him, in order to have made room for composers who would have done honour to the Society, and given the highest gratification to the audience; and, strictly speaking, would have been more in accordance with the scope and design put forth in the Prospectus. We allude to Palestrina, Pergolesi, Bononcini, with many others, whose names are not to be found in the concerts of the past season. Of Haydn we have had a small portion compared with Mozart, nor have the selections from him been happily chosen; an English dress does not become him; and we must own, that of translations and adaptations generally, there are very few that do not materially interfere with the beauty and spirit of the original. One other point we must just touch upon before we conclude, of which the managers do not seem to have taken the same view, with regard to its importance, that we do. We have already dwelt upon the propriety of throwing in a certain portion of relief in the composition of these concerts: many a half-suppressed yawn we have witnessed in the room, during the performance of some very good music, which would gladly have been exchanged for something less fine, but more pleasing, and doubtless more intelligible to the majority of the audience. The simple ballad, sung with much expression by Mr. Broadhurst in the first concert, ‘My ain fire-side,’ was encored with enthusiasm, while the terzetto of Beethoven, which followed soon after, was heard with comparative indifference. A catch of Webbe’s was introduced in the first, and one of Callcott’s in the second evening’s performance, but none since, although both were encored. If the future managers choose to exert themselves, they will be at no loss to find many cheerful, and even humorous compositions, where the words are altogether unexceptionable, and the music excellent. We strongly recommend attention to this.

We had proposed to say something on the merits of the performers individually, but our limits forbid. We will only observe, that a strong desire to please was evident throughout the season; and we doubt not that much satisfaction has been afforded to numbers, who will readily testify the fact, by renewing their subscription the following season; when the experience which has been gained during the past will enable the VOCAL SOCIETY to resume its functions next year with improved effect; and we take our leave, with cordial wishes for its future success.

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REVIEW OF NEW MUSIC.

SACRED MUSIC.

MR. Attwood’s anthem is, in the strictest sense of the word, devotional, and suited to the service of the church, though the melodies and accompaniments are cast in a modern mould. The school is that of Mozart, influenced by habits early acquired in an English Protestant choir: for the author laid the foundation of his musical knowledge in the King’s Chapel, and finished an education thus happily begun, under the great musician of Saltzburg.

This anthem comprises two short movements; the first a larghetto in F, three-eight time; the second rather quicker, in common time, made up of verse and an alternating chorus for the usual voices. The whole composition is evidently the production of an accomplished musician, but the first movement will gain most suffrages; the clearness of the phraseology or rhythm, and the richness of the harmony—full, but not affectedly crowded—cannot fail to please all who possess a cultivated taste. Some, however, may perhaps think that words declaratory of so much wretchedness should have been set to sounds expressive of deeper distress; and we are willing to admit that the minor key, or some mixture of it, would have enforced the sentiment more strongly than an unbroken continuation of the major third. We likewise wish that the singer may always profit by the licence granted by the ad libitum, page 6, and reject the secular flourish set down in the small notes, which would not be quite in character in the chamber; most assuredly is unfitted for the church.

No. 2,—in a livery of fawn-coloured satin paper, on which are impressed, in glittering golden characters, the title and epigraph, surmounted by a blazing lyre and cross, the whole inclosed in a border of the same proud metal,—does not introduce itself with that humility, which, both in letter and spirit, the Christian religion inculcates: it proclaims a church superb, not simple, and addresses itself to the eye that loves gaud, rather than to the understanding which despises show. But we shall not quarrel with the author on account of his cover: anomalies in such things are too common to be matter of reproach. The richest clad book we ever opened was a Mazarin bible, and the text was nothing the worse for the magnificence of its clothing.

In a preface the author tells us that, ‘of all the liberal sciences, music is the most esteemed on earth, and is the only one that appears to have been admitted into heaven.’ This is comforting news for musicians, but not very consoling to geometricians, grammarians, &c. Ωμεγα (or great O, as Mr. Cobbett would translatingly call him) is more liberal of words than careful in the use of them; we, however, find some good sense mixed with a great deal of enthusiasm,—some valuable remarks amidst too much verbiage. Thus what he says in his introduction concerning the adaptation of sacred words to airs originally set to those of a ludicrous, nay sometimes of a loose kind, has our entire concurrence. ‘In a large collection of tunes designated as “Sacred Music,” appear sundry compositions dignified with the names of Handel, Mozart, &c.; and which consist of certain extracts from their profane works most unscientifically selected, and united to other extracts to eke out the metre. In one of these “compositions” is recognized the Sancho Panza of the Zauberflöte, singing one of the songs of Zion to the air of “Das klinget so herlich!” If such “Sacred Music” be not an insult to HIM in whose service it is designed to be employed, it is so to good sense and to right feeling,—it is so to the memory of the illustrious dead whose names it bears,—and it is so to that public upon whose credulity it would impose.’

This publication embraces between thirty and forty ‘Christian Melodies,’ as the compiler terms them, but they are, in fact, harmonies also for four voices, and originally so composed; for the ‘greater part were found in the oratorios, the masses, and other elaborate and similar works of their respective authors.’ Handel, Haydn, Mozart, Graun, and Hasse, are the composers chiefly selected from; and the editor has added a few of his own. Without having examined every one in the collection, but judging from those on which our attention has been carefully bestowed, we can venture to say that they have been made with a due regard to the fitness of the airs to the words, and that the harmonies, where they have been added, are correct and good.

This publication is rather novel in its appearance. The paper is extra-sized folio, and the whole fifty-two pages of music are printed from stone, the lithography having been executed by the editor’s own hand.

In No. 3, the Anthem has most claim to notice, both on account of extent and merit. It is for a soprano, and what is in choirs understood by the phrase, verse and chorus. The first movement is in F, three-four time; the melody is charmingly natural, but not common, the accompaniment delicate and free from all pedantry. The choral parts are well introduced and harmonious. A recitative leads to a full chorus in common time, the whole in the fugue style, though not in regular fugue, and perhaps more vocally effective on this very account. The words are set with great judgment—no conceits, no false accentuation, every part manifests good plain sense and correct taste.

The Psalm tunes are much like other compositions of the kind; they show no extraordinary exertion. The base accompaniment of a 5th in the last bar of the second is not altogether judicious; the 3rd in such a case is far preferable. We need hardly mention the omission of a D in the accompaniment, a few bars before, because it is most likely the fault of the engraver. The note is in the tenor, and doubtless was meant to appear in the organ part.

The Chants cannot boast of more new features than the Psalms; but, as a matter of taste, would not the C in the[Pg 86] ninth bar of the first have been improved by a sharp? It now stands thus:—

The modulation is into D minor, and surely C would have sounded better had it been sharpened.

The rounds are not entitled to much notice; and that the canon is flat and unprofitable, only proves that the composer has, fortunately for himself, no talent for dulness.

The Melodies, No. 4, display a goodly disposition both for air and graceful expression, but also show a great want of the creative power, and of experience. We recommend Mr. Wallis to go on writing for a while, but to destroy as fast as he writes. Practice may do much for him. If, too, the poet who is joined in this publication were to employ his thoughts more, and his pen less, for some time to come, he might, perhaps, produce something rather superior to the verses to which he here gives his name.

PIANO-FORTE.

THE first of the above is the eleventh book of the Album des Pianistes de première force, and by far the most rational of the collection that has come under our notice, for it is only a new edition of the rondo, justly a favourite one, which has been, and long ago we believe, reviewed in our work. M. Hummel has frequently played it in public, and most of our readers are well acquainted with the composition.

It is not clear to us why the composer of No. 2 should have added a diminutive to his rondo, implying either brevity or ease, whereas it is of the ordinary length, and difficult. A short introduction, adagio, promises well for the following allegretto scherzando, the chief movement; but the latter disappoints us; it is in the skittish Mayseder style, and the passages are far from uncommon; though it certainly will be found lively if well played, and comes under the description of brilliant music, by which is understood whatever is quick, showy, and exhilarating.

The introduction to No. 1 has not cost M. Czerny much thought, and his variations on this very popular air are not remarkable for originality, but are devoid of all those absurdities of which we have so often to complain, and are also within the reach of those who do not think it advisable to dedicate half their time to the labour of practising.

No. 2 has an introduction in A flat, which enables a moderate player to make a considerable display, provided his left hand can conveniently reach tenths. The March in C is short and simple, and what we have said of the variations to the preceding applies to the present; but these are much easier for the performer.

No. 3 takes the Chœur des Joueurs as an introductory movement; the rest of the piece is the same air as No. 1, in F, protracted to sixteen pages in the form of a rondo, but is executed with ability, and the passages are all of a reasonable kind; for it is to be observed, that we have not Henri Herz before us, but his brother.

No. 4 is a very pleasing rondo in E; the melody is agreeable and new, and Mad. Cinti’s cavatina, being embodied in the piece, imparts much variety to it. This is by no means so easy for the performer as the foregoing; and some reiterated semiquavers—fit enough for a violin, but not calculated for the piano-forte—are unnecessarily introduced; yet, on the whole, this is a clever arrangement, and such as is likely to be approved very generally.

In every one of these numbers are eight airs, each of which, with the single variation, fills one page only. Now much as we disapprove the numerous variations, or the interminably long ones, which so frequently appear, yet two or three, of moderate length, are desirable, for the sake of that variety which the term implies, and, if moderately good, can never be thought tedious. This is all we have to object to in the present publication, which are of a very useful kind, the melodies being chosen with taste, and arranged with judgment for rather juvenile students. But in truth, really good players need not be ashamed to bestow two or three minutes upon any one of them, for we do not find a single melody among the thirty-two that is not worthy of being listened to by any lover of national music; such music, too, as that of Caledonia.

We have here another publication that will prove of great utility: it is a collection of the most popular modern airs from foreign operas, or by foreign composers—by Mozart, Beethoven, Rossini, Weber, Meyerbeer, &c.,—arranged and fingered for the use of learners almost of the youngest class, and in a manner which justifies M. Hünten in affixing his name to the work, for he has evidently bestowed an attention on it which proves that he knows the importance of putting only what is correct, and likely to form a good ear, into the hands of children.

DUETS PIANO-FORTE.

THE opening adagio in B minor of No. 1, is of the expressive kind, and if played with much nicety and great feeling, will be effective; though we trust that all persons who wish to discourage whatever tends to vitiate musical taste will at once cut out the run of thirds in semitones forming part of the cadenza, which, like all passages of the sort, only serves to remind us of that half-suppressed cry which a fit of the tooth-ache, or colic, sometimes extorts from the most patient sufferer. But the author seems to have exhausted himself in this movement; the second, molto vivace, in D, though, in some respects, clever, and exhibiting very bold modulation, will never have any attraction for those who think that air and grace are essential in musical composition. This is not an easy work; but we must add that the notation—the avoidance of apparently short notes—is a proof of M. Hummel’s clear understanding. Composers, in general, are not aware of the difference, in point of difficulty, which may be made by mere notation. Writing demisemiquavers and shorter notes is, commonly, either mere pedantry or sheer ignorance. Sometimes, we grant, they are necessary, but in nine cases out of ten they may be avoided, as in the present instance, by words indicating great rapidity; or by putting a bar through the C marking common time. But the metronome (which M. Hummel, like a man of sense, always uses) is the surest and best guide.

Mehul’s overture is a great favourite in French theatres, and not devoid of something like dramatic effect, but as a piano-forte duet, as drawing-room music, it is very jejune indeed.

If Beethoven had never written but in the style of the Archduke’s march, his name would not have been heard beyond the confines of day-schools or Margate libraries. This is an easy, common-place affair; but, perhaps, quite good enough for the triumphs of the illustrious Rudolph, whoever he may be. What is meant by ‘König Stephan’ we pretend not to guess. Our King Stephen thought his unmentionables too expensive at a crown: we hold that his namesake’s march is much dearer at half the sum. We will not, however, imitate the son of the conqueror, and call the vendor by foul names.

M. Diabelli’s ‘Delight’—(what can be meant by so nonsensical a title?)—is, if we may judge from No. 4, to make babies play in duo. These very little pieces keep the hands in one position, being limited to the compass of five notes: so far they may answer a good purpose, and they are not disagreeable.

VOCAL.

The Duet, No. 1, possesses just that kind of silly prettiness which probably will sell it.

No. 3 exhibits all the independence, the originality, and feeling, which are so conspicuous in this Lady’s ‘Illustrations.’ The words are Goethe’s, but we conjecture that the composer intends them to apply to the expatriated Poles, whose miseries have excited her strongest sympathy. There is all the enthusiasm of genius in this, but no want of method. We do not, however, see why the whole should not have been written in three-crotchet time.

No. 4 is a very spirited air, with a well-judged accompaniment, but it will inevitably be compared with the author’s ‘Sea,’ and thereby suffer, for the task would be no easy one to produce any thing at all equal to that brilliant composition. Let the present be judged by its own merits, and it will be generally approved. It is short, not difficult to sing, and suited to a tenor or a soprano voice.

No. 5 is, in fact, a ballad of four stanzas, the melody short, but repeated. It is gentle and elegant, rather à la Haydn, and would be easy, but for a double sharp or two, at which singers who accompany themselves are apt to start. Let us, however, recommend them not to be dismayed; the song is full of feeling, and will repay their trouble.

No. 6 is a very sweet melody, in the rondeau style, with an agreeable Scottish tinge, and accompanied in a lighter manner than is usual with Mr. Lodge; though there are glimpses of harmony here and them that show his incli[Pg 88]nation, which, however, he has not indulged to any great extent, but has afforded every possible facility to both singer and accompanist.

The words of No. 7 ought to sell the song. The reasons why a young maiden should not agree to be metamorphosed into a star, a flower, or a fish, are quite cogent and reasonable. The air is light, as it should be, and very simple.

No. 8 shows a strong effort to produce new harmonic effects: the modulation in the very first two bars from C to A flat is rather sudden, and somewhat startling—e. g.

but anything is better than triteness. The air is free and agreeable, with an accompaniment in the guitar manner. We cannot, however, add that the words go quite smoothly and well to the melody.

The composer of No. 9 writes with much feeling, and his air is pleasing and appropriate, but he has injudiciously separated some of the words, and not very accurately accented others.

On No. 12 we really can bestow no praise, however qualified; the words and music are nearly on a par with the lithographed vignette, but of the three, the music is least obnoxious to criticism.

HARP.

THE first of the above is the Pas de Cinq, the second the Valse des Démons, and the third the Chœur Dansé, from the opera now performing in all parts of Europe, though certainly with variable success. But the pieces selected by M. Labarre are universally admired, whatever may be, according to different tastes, thought of the work in its entire state. These are all arranged with a view to general use; all unnecessary difficulty, therefore, is avoided, but not at the expense of the author’s intended effects, which are as carefully preserved as the means afforded by a single instrument render possible.

HARP AND PIANO-FORTE.

THESE are the well-known waltzes, Op. 91, written by Hummel for the piano-forte only, and now converted, with considerable address, into very effective, yet perfectly easy duets for the two drawing-room instruments.

THE anniversary of this society, on Thursday the 21st of February, proved, past all doubt, that the taste for the species of music cultivated by its members is anything but on the decline. A more brilliant meeting has not for many years been known, as the subjoined list of music performed, of members present, and of visitors, will amply testify; and it was by all agreed, that the various compositions were never heard to greater advantage.

There are cycles in music as well as in other heavenly things; the madrigal is come round again, and probably will, in two or three years, again disappear, except to the present society, who have never lost sight of it, and to whom (as also, indeed, to the Ancient Concerts) we are perhaps indebted, for having preserved it from final occultation. We shall not be surprised soon to find it visible in our most fashionable drawing-rooms, and to hear that the revived taste for it in this country has drawn the attention of our continental neighbours to a kind of harmony which those who profess any knowledge of the art, either from study, or merely listening to and enjoying it, cannot but admire.

After the cloth was removed, and the youthful choristers of the King’s Chapel and St. Paul’s Cathedral were admitted, the following madrigals were performed, nearly all present taking a part:—

Among the members present were, Messrs. W. Linley, (Chairman), W. Hawes (Music Director), C. Baumer, T. Pinto (Stewards), J. P. Street (Librarian), Tho. Oliphant (Secretary), E. Bates, R. Taylor, J. Capel, J. T. Cooper, J. Barwise, Sir A. Barnard, K.C.B., Rev. J. Hall, J. P. Salomons, E. Fitzwilliam, J. N. Macleod, Lord Saltoun, J. Calkin, C. Hancock, H. Hancock. C. Comerford, J. Dillon, G. Cooper, W. Taylor, Tho. Gladstone, M.P., E. Taylor.

The non-professional visiters were, Duke of Argyle, Admiral Taylor, Sir R. Simeon, Hon. A. Macdonald, Dr. Penrose, Messrs. Boldero, Gray, Nyren, Seviers, (2.) Hall, Spyring, Cox, Bond, M’Donald, Bedford, Campbell, Mozer, Rich, Pears, Bates, jun., Luttrell, Barnard, Spencer, S. Cartwright, Street, jun., S. J. Arnold, H. Surman, H. Sanford, J. Silver.

The professional visiters included Messrs. Vaughan, Sale, Spencer, Leete, Blackbourne, Horncastle, Ella, Horsley, Hawkins, Walmisley, C. Evans, C. Taylor, Howell, James Elliott, Goss, Goulden, Jolley.

[Pg 89]

EXTRACTS FROM THE DIARY OF A DILETTANTE.

Feb. 28th. Tait’s Magazine for this month has the following remark concerning the concerts at Edinburgh:—‘Mrs. Wood has shown on how much the human voice, and Mr. Boschsa how little the harp, can do to entrance the soul in musical delight.’ This is sensible criticism, in no far as it extends to the singing and playing of the individuals named: but the harp, when in the hands of those who best know how to use it—who seek not to astonish by what is called execution, which is only another name for murder, but study its pathetic and romantic character, and attempt nothing out of this—is an instrument that, in some shape or other, has charmed in all ages, and will continue to be admired wherever a taste for music is at all cultivated. Those among as who remember having heard Mad. Krumpholtz, and, more especially, the Vicomte de Marin, well know what the harp can do when properly touched.

March 7th. The King’s band of musicians was an imitation of the band of Louis XIV. In Evelyn’s Diary, dated 21st of December, 1662, is the following account of its first performance. This able and honest statesman and excellent naturalist possessed a fine taste for the arts, in which he took very considerable interest. He evidently felt very indignant at the musical innovation made by the heartless Charles, whose education was finished in the profligate French court, and thus expresses himself:—

‘One of his Majesty’s chaplains preached at the King’s Chapel, after which, instead of the ancient, grave, and solemn wind music accompanying the organ, was introduced a concert of twenty-four violins between every pause, after the French fantastical light way, better suiting a tavern or a play-house, than a church. This was the first time of change, and now we no more heard the cornet which gave life to the organ, that instrument quite left off, in which the English were so skilful. I dined at Mr. Povey’s, where I talked with Cromer, a great musician.’

—This morning Mr. Guynemer gave—(literally gave, for profit was not his object)—a ‘Matinée Musicale’ at the Opera Concert Room, chiefly for the purpose of performing some selections from a Mass recently composed by him. He, of course, had a very full audience, among whom were the most distinguished amateurs and professors at present in London. The Mass, or at least such of it as was introduced, possesses considerable claims to notice; and if it does not show much fancy, much original conception, proves the author to be a man of knowledge and taste. His band was select, and led by Messrs. Spagnoletti and Mori; himself and Mr. Novello acting as conductors.

10th. A weekly paper, in whose well-delivered musical opinions I generally concur, has attacked in rather strong language the first Ancient Concert of this season, and in pretty plain terms accused the directors of imitating the new Vocal Concert, by the introduction of madrigals. Surely the writer has not carefully looked over the books of the Ancient Concert, or made himself acquainted with the fact that, at its very first institution, nearly sixty years ago, madrigals were among its most important features, and have, more or less often, continued to be performed up to the present time. I myself heard two of them last season, though not present at more than three or four of the concerts. The efforts made by the Madrigal Society during late years have slowly, but surely, drawn attention to this fine species of music, and the Vocal Concert happily seized the moment for bringing it before a larger and more mixed audience, and certainly in a very inviting form; but let not the Ancient Concert, the finest school in Europe for the music of the great old masters, and which has preserved the best models from being trampled into dust—which has stood for years as the bulwark against the whims of fashion, and steadily resisted the greedy appetite for whatever is new, however contemptible—let not this be abused as the servile imitator of an infant establishment which has only re-produced compositions that have been heard by three generations at a concert to which—though often mismanaged, and too frequently a sufferer from prejudice—our country is so much indebted for its musical taste, and on which, I am persuaded, the preservation of good music in England yet so mainly depends.

16th. We are certainly to be honoured by another visit from Signor Paganini after Easter, as I last year predicted; though the French papers, and of course the English, stated positively, that he had resolved to appear in public no more, but had ‘determined to retire and enjoy otium cum dignitate.’ It was to me a matter of certainty, demonstrable upon moral principles, that while any thing is to be got in this country, the hero of one string will be drawn to our shores by metallic attraction. Of his continued success, however, I have my doubts; the fit was on the decline last season; our senses are beginning to return: but if reason should not influence us, the state of the country will. It is really ‘too bad’ to be lavishing thousands, tens of thousands, upon a foreigner, who is more admired for his tricks than for his real excellences, while many of our best performers—some of whom are more than his equal in the legitimate use of the instrument—are neglected, and suffering from want of protection.

20th. Every letter from Italy, coming from any source to be relied on, concurs in stating, that music is at the lowest ebb in that country: from the northern to the southern extremity, from Milan to Naples, nothing new is brought forward but the vilest trash, and even Rossini is no longer the idol. This, however, ought not to excite surprise, considering how unmercifully he has been hacked. It seems that, after Easter, we are to have thrust down our throats,—or rather crammed into our ears—Bellini’s Norma, and also Beatrice Tenda, both, it is said, the feeblest of modern weaknesses, the first especially, which all but Italians agree in admitting to be the veriest rubbish that ever disgraced the lyric stage. We are also to have the Montecchi e Capuletti of the same composer, which I can, from my own knowledge, say, is as wretched stuff as any that our Italian theatre has produced during the last five or six years. I cannot say more.

[Pg 90]

FOREIGN MUSICAL REPORT.

VIENNA.

THE Josephstadt Theatre, under its very able direction, ever anxious to delight the public with novelties, has produced Bellini’s Die Capulets und die Montagues, which, however, was but indifferently received, notwithstanding the laudable exertions of the singers. Rossini’s Semiramis, also, has lately afforded evidence of the industry and efficiency of the company of this theatre. M. Pock, as Assur, excited enthusiasm in his audience, and Demlle. Kratky as Arsaz, and Mad. Zimmer as Semiramis, were overwhelmed with applause; in fact, all the singers received ample testimony of the delight which they afforded, and the whole representation could not but have given satisfaction to the most severe critic.

On the 4th January, a new operetta by Caché, Das Küchenregiment (the Kitchen Government), was produced at the Hofoperntheater. M. Caché himself played the principal character (Vatel), and was twice called forward.

BERLIN.

Königstadt Theater. A romantic comic opera in three acts, called Des Adlers Horst (the Eagle’s Eyry), composed by Kapellmeister Gläser, was produced here on the 29th December. The music is lively and melodic, bearing, however, at times, perhaps, too close a resemblance to the Freyschütz. The parts were allotted to Demlles. Hälmel, Felsenheim, and Franchetti, and MM. Holzmiller, Greiner, Fischer, and Beckmann. On the 4th January, Dlle. Schneider, the daughter of Kapellmeister Schneider, having previously sung at her father’s concert, appeared for the first time on the Berlin boards, as Rosina in the Barbier von Sevilla, and was very successful.

At the Opernhaus, Robert der Teufel has again been brought forward; and on the 20th January, Figaro was given with a very strong cast of characters: Mad. Pirscher as the Countess, Demlle. Grünbaum the Page, Mad. Seidler Susanna, M. Hammermeister the Count, and M. Devrient as Figaro; it was in every respect a most excellent representation of the opera.

M. Felix Mendelssohn has given his second and third concerts, in aid of the fund for the widows of the members of the orchestra, which proved very attractive. The musical soirées of the Brothers Ganz have commenced; those of M. Möser are going on successfully.

MUNICH.

M. Spitzeder, who made his debut here on the 30th September, and was incapacitated from appearing afterwards by illness, died on the 14th December. Mad. Spitzeder has appeared as Myrrha, as Ninetta in Die Diebische Elster (La Gazza Ladra), Zerlina in Fra Diavolo, and various other characters with her usual success.

PRAGUE.

Das Fräulein am See (La Donna del Lago) has been given here for the benefit of Demlle. Emmering, who personated Malcolm. On this occasion Demlle. Lutzer made her first appearance in the part of Helene. Her voice, the higher and middle notes of which are very sweet, is rather weak for so large a theatre; but by regular and well-directed practice, it will no doubt soon acquire greater strength. M. Podhorsky was Roderich, M. Strataky Douglas.

VENICE.

The opera Eufemio di Messina, by Maestro Persiani, has been performed here at the Fenico, but not with the success it obtained at the fair of Padua. All the efforts of the singers, Dell Serre soprano, La Carobbi contralto, Curioni tenor, and Crespi bass, could not save it. The music, that of the second act especially, was throughout considered monotonous and tiresome.

Recci’s Chiara di Rosenberg is at this time playing in six towns in Italy, and is everywhere received with enthusiasm.(!)

PARIS.

For a long time it has been evident to every one who has the slightest taste or feeling for music, that the downfall of this art in Italy is complete; but nothing, perhaps, could give so just an idea of the state of absolute degradation into which the Italian taste has fallen, as the popularity which an opera called Chiara di Rosenberg, which was played lately at the Théâtre Italien, has obtained and still enjoys in that country. At all times, even when the Italian school was in the height of its vigour and splendour, bad operas were written, but they were received as they deserved, and the hisses of the public consigned them to their merited fate. At the present time this is no longer the case; the production of a boy makes a furore on its first production, is twice revived with plaudits at Milan, and is now playing everywhere. What does all this indicate, but that nothing better is to be hoped for from a country where the public taste has fallen so low?

An ill-constructed overture, made up of incoherent phrases clumsily put together, followed by an introduction still more flat and feeble, cast a cold chill over the audience; however they waited with very laudable patience for some piece that might interest them, but in vain; the same mediocrity reigned throughout. A trio for three basses, which had been much talked about, was looked for with great expectation, but turned out just as bad as the rest. The success of this trio, in Italy, arises from one of the characters using a broad provincial dialect, which is changed according to the city in which the piece is performed; in Naples it is the Neapolitan, in Venice the Venetian, in Milan the Milanese, and so on: this makes the audiences laugh there, but in a foreign country the comic effect is wholly lost, and there is nothing in the music to compensate for it. The most supportable pieces in the opera are a chorus and duet between Tamburini and Santini. There is not in the whole opera one phrase of melody that has either novelty or any other merit; the harmony is flat and incorrect; the rhythm totally devoid of character, and eternally broken in upon; and to close all, the instrumentation is that of a school-boy who had not even the good sense to study the scores of his contemporaries.

Tired of singing such stuff, Tamburini introduced an air from the Inganno Felice of Rossini, and never did a base voice give so splendid a specimen of ease, taste, and execution; the audience, without considering the fatigue of the singer, encored it; Tamburini repeated it with more spirit than at first, and then the audience took their hats and left the rest of Chiara di Rosenberg to be performed to empty benches.

KING’s THEATRE.

ON Tuesday, the 26th of February, Madame SCHIASETTI was introduced to the public for the first time in this country, as Malcolm, in ROSSINI’s Donna del Lago. This lady is an old stager. Many years ago she sang in Paris, and there again very recently, but with doubtful success. In the interim she appeared at Dresden, but how she was received there we cannot tell. Her voice is a mezzo-soprano, which she wishes to force down to the contralto compass, but betrays her natural scale in spite of all her efforts. Her high notes are hard and unmusical, and she is not always pure in intonation. In form, Mad. SCHIASETTI rather inclines to the masculine, and shows more muscular than vocal strength. The opera was got up in a manner that almost defies description; parts left out, others put in, transpositions, interpolations, and, in short, nearly every thing that able management would have forbidden was witnessed; except the character of Roderick Dhu, which DONZELLI performed à merveille.

Mad. BOCCABADATI has appeared in Matilde di Shabran, one of ROSSINI’s least interesting operas; and the papers, most of them, have been as lavish in their praise of her as if her powers were of the most unrivalled kind. She undoubtedly improved after her debut, which was a very unfavourable one, and exhibited talents superior to those which were displayed on her first appearance. But she can only rank as a prima donna in second-rate theatres. As a seconda, or as an occasional substitute for the first, Mad. B. may be rendered exceedingly useful and agreeable.

On the 23d, MOZART’s Nozze di Figaro made some change in the performances, which till then had been all ROSSINI, and not the best of ROSSINI. The part of the Countess was given to Mad. BOCCABADATI, and Mad. SCHIASETTI took that of Susanna! Mdlle. NINA SONTAG personating Cherubino. To the first of these the music was perfectly strange, but, like a stranger, she did not give it welcome: however, she got through it better than we expected. Poor Susanna has seldom had so inadequate a representative; and Mdlle. NINA made a page that ought not to have excited any doubts in the mind of Almaviva. This part, by-the-by, was transposed for DONZELLI, as was much for Mad. SCHIASETTI; and, altogether, our history of this attempt at reviving a work of MOZART cannot be rendered favourable.

GERMAN OPERA.

which commenced at this house on Thursday, March 14th, with Der Freischütz, thus cast:—

No one of these must be ranked as a first-rate singer, but all are tolerably respectable. Mad. PIRCHER seems to find it necessary to strain her voice, which is not strong, which sometimes renders her intonation rather faulty. She, however, sings with feeling, and appears to understand what she is about. Madlle. NINA SONTAG is just what she was,—inanimate, both in singing and acting, and inoffensive, unless great frigidity and slowness can offend.

M. BINDER is the best of the party; he wants little of being a very good tenor. He was suffered to introduce a song, not one by Weber, for which the management is more censurable than the singer. We believe that it was one by that prince of modern composers, Pacini! M. BLUME, with a good base voice, is a respectable actor.

M. HUMMEL is the conductor of this corps; but, seated at the piano-forte, he appears to greater advantage than when flourishing the baton. His times of the Freischütz were all quicker than those of the composer, as he gave them at Covent Garden. Which of the two is most likely to be right, we leave our readers to determine. The choruses went off extremely well; but in other respects the German Opera this season is much inferior to that of last; nevertheless, M. LAPORTE’s terms of admission are increased. He has, however, already found out that one hundred at seven shillings are not quite so profitable as five hundred at a crown; yet the prices are not reduced. Up to the present moment the speculation has proved a very losing one, and we do not hear of any new opera being in readiness.

DRURY LANE THEATRE.

A new ballet-opera, a term quite new to our stage, was brought out at this house on the 16th ult., entitled The Maid of Cashmere, made up from La Bayadère Amoureuse, SCRIBE’s very popular piece; the music by AUBER.

The story may be told in the following words:—Brama assumes mortality, and is under the necessity of enduring all the evils incident to the change, until he can find a young female who perfectly and purely loves him. Having been present at the preparations for executing an innocent man, he sets the intended victim free, therefore is proscribed by the authorities, and takes refuge in the city of Cashmere. He wanders about as The Unknown, while a price is set on his head by the Grand Vizier. He conceals himself near the palace of Olifour, and there remains while some dancing peasants, called Bayadères, exhibit before the grand judge, who falls desperately in love with Zelica, the Maid of Cashmere; but she rejects him, and shows a decided preference for The Unknown, who imprudently comes forward. Soon afterwards he is discovered, and is about to be seized, when Zelica purchases his liberty by consenting to give her hand to the old judge. Presents she rejects, but consents to ride in a palanquin sent for her conveyance; and naturally enough, for The Unknown had slipped into it, and, lying at the bottom, is effectually hidden. We next find the pair in the hut of the Bayadère, where she makes her love for Brama pretty obvious. To try the strength and truth of her attachment, he makes Zelica jealous, by paying undue attention first to a singing Bayadère, Leila, and subsequently to another dancing Bayadère, Fatima.[Pg 92] She is of course very uneasy, and before long her truth is put to the test, for the judge and his troops enter in search of The Unknown, who escapes through a trap-door into a cellar,—a very undignified exit for a god, by the way. As The Unknown is not to be found, the guards seize Zelica, and, raising a pile in her own cottage, proceed to perform the inconvenient ceremony of burning her. She patiently awaits her doom,—the flames are fast approaching her—when Brama is seen rising behind her, restored to his divine state. He exalts the Bayadère into the clouds, and the scene suddenly changes to the celestial abode of the God. Thus ends the Opera-ballet, or Ballet-opera.

The strength of this is all in the ballet; the music is light and frothy, with the exception of a pretty good trio near the end of the first act. Indeed, as dancing would clearly be the attractive part of this piece, M. AUBER was fully justified in not wasting much force on it, and acted prudently in writing nothing of a solid kind, and in trusting wholly to a pleasing gaiety of style.

Don Juan continues to fill the house in every part: nay it draws persons into the public boxes, who, on any other occasion, would have been shocked at a proposal to visit the theatre without the consolation of a more private and exclusive retreat.

COVENT GARDEN THEATRE.

THE dramatic oratorio, contrary to expectation, has been eminently successful. After the first night it improved very much in representation, and still more so in the audiences. It has drawn crowds ever since.

On the 23rd of last month, an opera, altered from the French, under the name of The Coiners, or the Soldier’s Oath, the music by AUBER, was produced here; but we were at Drury Lane on that evening, and have not since had an opportunity of seeing this new production; on which we shall report next month, should the piece survive, which, according to what we hear, is somewhat doubtful.

THE MUSIC OF THE PRESENT NUMBER.

THE Vicomte de Villeblanche, one of the ancient noblesse of France, was a distinguished amateur. His mother, a great proficient in music, instructed him very early on the piano-forte, and he having sought refuge in this kingdom during the most troublesome period of the French revolution, took lessons of J. B. Cramer. When Buonaparte proclaimed an amnesty, the Vicomte returned to his native country, entered into the army, accompanied Napoleon in his expedition to Russia, and is supposed to have perished in the retreat, he never having been heard of since that disastrous event. Of his skill in music the movement in the present Number bears full testimony; it is the only composition by him that we ever met with or heard of; it appeared many years ago, (in a musical magazine which had no circulation,) and may be said to be an unknown production. That it is in the manner of Beethoven will be apparent to all, and that it is a very elegant imitation of a master then little known out of Germany, must also be admitted: we are glad to have been enabled to rescue a composition of so much merit either from oblivion, or from being hereafter claimed by some one having no title to it.

The Saraband and Gigue of Corelli are familiarly known to the frequenters of the Ancient Concerts, and to all—we fear they are few in number—who are well read in classical music. We have adapted them from the original score, and endeavoured to render the violin passages not only practicable, but easy for keyed-instruments. The Sarabanda was a slow Spanish dance. The Giga speaks for itself. For an account of the composer, we refer the reader to one of our early volumes.

The Canzonet, ‘Forget me not,’ has always been ascribed to Mozart, though not noticed by him in his memoranda, and not included in any edition of his works. It certainly bears his impress, and, whether justly or not attributed to that great master, is undoubtedly worthy of his genius. We have cut out from the symphony some bars which we strongly suspect to have been an interpolation. The author of the English words seems to be quite unknown, and it will be no injury to him to let him remain incognito. As far, however, as the prevailing sentiment is concerned, the poetry admirably suits the music.

The name of Prati is perfectly new to this country. He was Maître de Chapelle to the Elector Palatine, and born in 1736. He visited Paris, St. Petersburg, Florence, &c., in all which cities he produced operas. In the latter city he brought out his Ifigenia, which met with prodigious success; and at Munich, in 1785, his Armida abandonnata first was heard, which procured him his valuable appointment under the Elector. He died at Ferrara in 1788. The gay and beautiful aria by him, which we now publish, is from Reichardt’s Musikalisches Kunstmagazin, for 1791.

A taste for the Madrigal happily seems to be reviving. It is a kind of composition which possesses some of the best qualities of the fugue, but rejects all its formality and restraint. John Bennet published his Madrigals for four voices in 1599, and contributed much to a curious theoretical work by Ravenscroft, printed in 1614, and now lying before us, in the preface to which he is thus mentioned;—a ‘partner in this work is Maister John Bennet, a gentleman admirable for all kinds of composures, either in art, or ayre, simple or mixt, of what nature soever.’ Nothing beyond this is known of him, or it certainly would have been discovered by Hawkins, an indefatigable antiquary, and a zealous promoter of ancient music. The present madrigal is from Warren’s Monthly Collection, a work now exceedingly scarce. We have changed the alto and tenor clefs into the treble and base, and added an accompaniment, for the first time, it is our belief.

The very pretty Canzonet of Morley is from a set printed in 1599. One of these appeared in the Harmonicon containing his memoir; to which the reader is referred for further information concerning this celebrated theorist and composer.

[Pg 93]

MAY, 1833.

MEMOIR OF METASTASIO.

THE name of the great dramatic poet, whose memoir we are about to sketch is so connected with the history of music, that it cannot be thought out of place in the biographical department of our work. We might almost plead his having been a musician as well as poet, were it necessary; but no excuse can be required for mixing with the lives of professors that of a genius to whose productions—which have called forth the talents of the greatest composers—the art itself is so much indebted.

PIETRO TRAPASSI was born at Rome on the 6th of January, 1698. His family, though at the time of his birth reduced to the straits of indigence, had for many years enjoyed, as opulent citizens, the freedom of the town of Assisi, the immunities of which were confined to thirty of the inhabitants only. But the times became altered, and Felice, the father of our bard, unable to procure a subsistence in his native place, enlisted into the ranks of the regiment of Corsi, and shortly afterwards married Francesca Galasti of Bologna. At the fulfilment of his service as a soldier, Felice found himself possessed of a small pittance which he had gained, while in garrison, by devoting his leisure hours to the laborious task of an amanuensis. With this he entered into partnership with a shopkeeper at Rome, in the petty trade called in Italy L’Arte bianca, or pastrycook. Succeeding tolerably in this undertaking, he was now enabled to place his two eldest sons, Leopoldo and the subject of this memoir, at a small grammar school, where the latter soon displayed that talent and enthusiasm for poetry, which so eminently distinguished his after life. ‘Before he was yet ten years old,’ says his biographer Dr. Burney, ‘he had the power of making verses extempore on any subject, and it was no unusual sight to see his father’s porch surrounded in the evening, after school hours, by admiring groups listening to the poesy of a child. During one of these tuneful fits, when Pietro was in his happiest mood, the celebrated lawyer and critic, Gravina, happened to pass by his father’s door, and was no less struck with the youth of the poet, than with the softness, yet brilliancy of his verse, the smoothness of his measure, and the sprightliness of his wit, which he employed, all’ improvvista, upon the people and objects that surrounded him. Drawing near, Gravina expressed his admiration, and offered him some money; the firm but polite refusal of his donation increased his admiration for the little bard, and he instantly formed the resolution of adopting him as his son. Pleased with this idea, he instantly solicited the consent of his parents; and as there was nothing humiliating, nothing unkind, in his proposal, Felice gladly complied. The next morning Pietro was consigned to the care and patronage of Gravina, who changed his name to Metastasio, as Μεταστασις (mutatio) seemed at once to include his family appellation and his situation as an adopted child.

And now having changed his name, Gravina applied himself to the more difficult task of altering, or at least improving, the bias of Metastasio’s mind. For this purpose he destined him to the study of the law as a profession, wishing rather that he should become an orator than a poet. This at first may appear strange; but Gravina well knew that, although the meed of praise may be the poet’s, wealth and affluence are still strangers to his door, and that, in Rome, riches are only to be acquired by the followers of the church and law.

Although Metastasio’s time was principally employed in the dry study of edicts and decrees, he was encouraged by his patron in the perusal of the best models of the ancient poets; and, at the early age of fourteen, we find him producing his tragedy of Giustino,—really an astonishing work for so mere a boy. After the appearance of this drama, written completely in the Grecian style, Gravina appears not only to have allowed, but even to have encouraged, his pupil’s adoration of the Muse; and when Metastasio was eighteen years old, we find Gravina accompanying him to Naples, for the express purpose of singing with the most celebrated improvvisatori of the day. No sooner had he appeared than he became a universal favourite. Nothing was heard of but the graces and dignity of his elocution, the inspiration of his expressive countenance, and the delightful harmony of his verse, which his hearers carried away in their memory like the dying cadence of a thrilling melody. Still with his poetical pursuits did he continue to study the law; and, to secure an opening into the only other road to preferment, entered into one of the minor orders of priesthood.

Two years after his arrival at Naples he had the misfortune to lose his patron, who died in 1718, in the fifty-fourth year of his age, leaving behind him a character more celebrated for his great classical learning, than for his poetry, upon which however he most prided himself; but the protection which he afforded to Metastasio does more honour to his memory than all the productions of his own pen. It has been a generally received opinion, that, however deeply his loss was deplored by our poet, the death of Gravina was a great benefit to his future fame, for it is supposed that, had he lived, his advice would have cramped his pupil’s ideas, disposed to all the pathos and beauty of passion and nature, with the rules and imitations of the Greek drama. Certain it is, however, that Metastasio mourned over his patron as a son; nor was his gratitude at all diminished, when by Gravina’s will, signed in 1718, he found himself sole master of all his property, consisting of 15,000 crowns, a superb library, and a small estate in the kingdom of Naples. The generosity of our poet’s disposition, however, soon ran through this possession; and two years after Gravina’s death, all that remained to him was an inconsiderable landed estate. Finding it, therefore, necessary to court some other genius than the Muse, he placed himself under the care of Paglietti, a man described as made up wholly of law, a bitter enemy to poetry, one who hated the sound of rhyme, and the very sight of a poet, and who was mercilessly intolerant of the slightest deviation from worldly prudence. For one year Metastasio applied himself with so much diligence to the labours imposed upon him by Paglietti, that he appears to have disappointed his suspicions, and even to have gained his confidence; but at the end of that time, we find him again sacrificing to the Muse his contract with the law. First appeared an Epithalamium, written at the request of the Countess of Althau, who likewise prevailed upon him to write the drama Endymion.

Under the patronage of the Viceroy of Naples, appeared Gli Orti Esperidi, (the Gardens of the Hesperides.) The[Pg 94] drama was written during the hours devoted by Paglietti to the poet’s rest, and under the express promise that it should be kept a profound secret from the inexorable lawyer. His next drama was Angelica, of which the plot is taken from Ariosto. The Gardens of the Hesperides, which was played at Naples, was universally admired, and by none more than by the Signora M. Benti Bulgarini, better known by her prima-donna name of the Romanini. She was the first singer of her day, and played the part of Venus in that opera; and so delighted was she with its beauty, that she rested not until she had obtained an introduction to the author. On seeing him, the Romanini expressed at once her admiration and esteem, and warmly pressed him to renounce at once the dry study of the law, take up his abode under her husband’s roof, and devote his whole time, his whole energies, to the delights of friendship and the inspiration of the Muse. Adoring as he did, devoted as he was to poesy, who could at once resist the enthusiastic bent of his own mind, the seducing praise of flattering beauty?—certainly not Metastasio. Short was the struggle in his mind between Paglietti and the Romanini: willingly he accepted the offer, and from this time the courts of law were forgotten by him in the plaudits of the theatre.

His Didone Abandonnata was written at the request of the Romanini, to whom the poet is perhaps indebted for some of the finest dramatic incidents and effect. The celebrity which this opera obtained caused it to be set to music by the best composers for all the theatres of Italy, and consequently brought the author a large pecuniary reward, besides the extension of a name already widely spread. During his residence at Rome, whither he repaired with the Romanini in 1727, he finished several operas, the Semiramide, Artaserse, Egio, Alessandro nel Indie, and the Catone in Utica, all of which were received with high praise; but barren praise appears to have been all his reward—small indeed were his pecuniary gains.

Upon his first arrival at Rome, Metastasio, willing to repay the obligations under which he lay to the Bulgarini, took a house for the reception of the two families of the Bulgarini and Trapassi, and prevailed upon the Romanini to place herself, as more conversant with domestic affairs, at the head of his establishment. Upon these terms they lived till, in 1729, receiving an invitation from the court of Vienna, he repaired to Germany as coadjutor to Apostolo Zeno, the imperial laureate. This offer was the more gratifying as it came upon the recommendation of Zeno himself, who had enjoyed his post unrivalled for eleven years, and before the time of Metastasio, had written the best lyrical drama his country’s language could boast. No small praise, therefore, is due to his generosity in thus forwarding the views of a poet, whose works, he must have foreseen, would speedily eclipse his own. Nor was the yearly stipend of 3000 florins at all to be despised by Metastasio. At Rome he had almost suffered under the pressure of poverty, and often was obliged to have recourse to the munificence and generosity of his friend. To her, when he left Italy, he entrusted the entire charge of his affairs, together with a small sum left to her guidance for the temporary support of his father.

Of his reception at the court of Charles VI., we have a most gratifying account written by the poet himself to a friend at Rome, and the Emperor appears to have been much pleased on finding that Metastasio was of a grave moral character, and in that possessing principles congenial to his own. For the next three years, in his correspondence with the Romanini, we possess almost an autobiography of the bard, as his letters to her were frequent, and contained the account of his occupations, of his pleasures, and his pains. In 1734, he had the misfortune to lose this inestimable counsellor and friend. The Romanini in that year died at Rome, to the last manifesting the truth of her attachment, by bequeathing to him, after the death of her husband, the whole of her wealth, amounting to about 25,000 crowns. Metastasio, however, always abiding by the strictest rules of honour and probity, declined in toto this generous gift, which he transferred altogether to her husband, and this sacrifice, for great sacrifice it was, must be considered highly honourable to the poet’s heart. As to the exact nature of the connexion subsisting between him and Romanini, it must for ever remain a conjecture, and a mere conjecture—whether it was Platonic, or of a tenderer kind, who can pretend to determine? Metastasio, it is true, lived under the same roof with her, both at Rome and Naples, but so did her husband; and the very kind and familiar manner in which the poet writes to the husband, expressing his friendship for the wife, to the wife of his kindliness to the husband, and the sincerity with which he expressed to him his condolence and affliction for her death, would, in any other country but Italy, be thought sufficiently indicative of conjugal happiness. But there, Dr. Burney observes, the female singers generally find it convenient to have a nominal husband, who will fight their battles, and contend with the impresario or manager. And we shall not perhaps be judging too uncharitably of the Romanini, should we incline to the belief that her affection for Metastasio had more in it of the love of woman, than of Platonic attachment. But whether the poet’s friendship for Bulgarini were true or not, his grief for the death of his wife was deep, unfeigned, and lasting. In a letter to him expressing his condolence, he writes: ‘Oppressed by the afflicting news of the death of poor Marianna, I know not how to begin this letter. The tidings are so intolerable to me on so many accounts, that I can devise no means to diminish the acuteness of my sufferings, and therefore I trust you will not accuse me of want of feeling, if I am unable to suggest to you any consolation for your loss, as I have hitherto been totally unequal to finding any for myself.’ Again, to a friend at Rome: ‘I am now placed in the world as in a populous desert, and in that kind of desolation in which a man, if he were transported in his sleep to China or Tartary, would find himself on waking, among people of whose language, inclinations, and manners, he was quite ignorant.’ To his brother, too, he writes: ‘Poor Marianna never will return, and the rest of my life must be wretched, insipid, and sorrowful.’

At what age the Romanini died is unknown, but having attained to the eminence of first singer at Genoa in the year 1712, she was probably much older than Metastasio. The manner of his life at Vienna was but little varied by other events than the production and success of his works. In 1735, he wrote the operas L’Olimpiade and Demofoonte, the oratorio of Giuseppe riconosciuto, and the canzonet La Liberta. In 1734, besides his usual occupations, he was obliged to produce, in the greatest haste, an entertainment for music, to be performed by the archduchesses, and at the same time to assist, direct, and instruct them. ‘They have acted and sung like angels,’ writes the poet, ‘and it was truly sacrilege that the whole world was not permitted to admire them.’ As a return for his trouble, Metastasio was presented with a valuable snuff-box, valued at 40l., and of the most exquisite workmanship. This dramatic entertainment was called ‘Le Grazie vendicate.’ In[Pg 95] the same year, too, he produced, on the Emperor’s birthday, the Clemenza di Tito. Both operas were set by Caldara, the state composer. In 1735, he wrote, by command of the Empress Elizabeth, an operetta, with three characters only, to be played by the two archduchesses, and a lady of the court; it was called Le Cinesi, and intended as an introduction to a Chinese ballet. In the same year he produced Il Palladio conservato, and Il Sogno di Scipione, pieces written for the celebration of the Empress’s name-day. They are a kind of birth-day odes; but the fulsomeness of praise is delicately disguised in a dramatic form. In 1736 his Temistocle appeared, set by Caldara; but while this was being performed, he was required to write the opera of Achille in Sciro, in the short space of eighteen days, to grace the nuptials of the Archduchess Teresa with the Duke of Lorrain. The drama of Ciro riconosciuto was the production also of this year. In 1737–38–39, nothing new of any note emanated from his pen. In 1740, however, his muse was more propitious; for, besides the opera Zenobia, and the oratorio Isacco, he wrote Il Natale di Giove, and the opera Attilio Regolo for the natal day of Charles VI.; but, as that prince shortly after died, it was laid aside till 1750, when it was set by Hasse for the court at Dresden.

Between the years 1740 and 1745, we find but two complete dramas written by Metastasio, Antigono and Ipermestra, the former of these written expressly for the court of Dresden. They were both set to music by Hasse, who ranked high in the favour of the poet as a composer and as a man of genius. His correspondence with the celebrated Farinelli began in 1747. Many of the poet’s letters, breathing affection and confidence, were written to the great singer at Madrid, where, for two successive reigns, he enjoyed the greatest favour. The blessings of peace, after a seven years’ war, produced the opera Il Re Pastore; this was followed by L’Eroe Cinese. In 1756, at the request of Farinelli, he wrote for the court of Spain an opera, Nitteti, which, under the direction of Farinelli, was played with the utmost splendour. The three last operas written by Metastasio were, Il Trionfo di Clelia, in 1762; Romolo ed Ersilia, in 1765; and Il Ruggiero, 1771: the first was performed at Vienna, on the delivery of Isabella, first wife of the Emperor Joseph II.; the second at Inspruck, on the marriage of the grand Duke of Tuscany with Maria, infanta of Spain; and the last at Milan, on the nuptials of the Archduke Ferdinand, with the Princess of Modena; and this finished the dramatic labours of the bard. His other poetical works, which are very numerous, are all replete with elegance, and every beauty of numbers which the language of Italy so sweetly supplies. Of his prose writings, the extracts from Aristotle’s Poetics, and the Ars Poetica of Horace, are the principal. In all his writings the principles of religion and morality are all so chastely preserved, that the extreme of delicacy, the utmost vein of prudery cannot find a sentiment to offend or alarm; and his private life corresponded well with his writings, as he was always found prompt to discourage all tendency to license, to show himself the avowed enemy of disrespect to the ordinances of morality and religion. This being his universal character, the respect in which he was held at Vienna was extreme, while strangers of all ranks were eager to seek his company, attracted by the fame of his genius. Such were the firmness and constancy of his friendships that death could alone dissolve them. The Princess di Belmonte Pignatelli, the Countess d’Althau, who patronized him in his early youth, Count Canali, Baron Hagen, and Count Perlas, who spent all their evenings with him at Vienna during their lives, Farinelli, his correspondent for fifty years, Algarotti, and his brother Leopoldo—all these affections were sincere, and for ever planted in his heart.

On the 1st April, 1782, in the eighty-fourth year of his age, Metastasio was seized with a fever, which, for some time, made him delirious; soon after he recovered his senses, and received the apostolic benediction, which was sent him by the pope, Pius VI. On the 12th, his disease terminated fatally—Metastasio was no more. Though his years had reached eighty-four, his faculties to the time of his death were perfectly entire, and Dr. Burney found him, at the age of seventy-two, looking like a man of fifty, and the handsomest person of his age he had ever seen. On his features were painted genius, goodness, and propriety. He was cautious and modest in his intercourse, and so polite, that he never was known to contradict in his life any body in conversation. Lamented, deplored with the tears of sincerity by all who knew him, Metastasio was interred at Vienna on the 14th April. The last sad offices were performed with splendour by his grateful heir, Joseph Martinez, in despite of the wish of the departed, who had forbidden any pomp.

Metastasio, by all his biographers, is described as eminently the poet of love, and, in general, happy in pourtraying noble and amiable sentiments. It is astonishing with how much ease he moves in lyric poetry, and with what artless language he unites the brightest ornaments of a poet’s fancy. In all his works he stands high; in his operas, unrivalled.

HINTS TO LEADERS AND CONDUCTORS.

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

In your critical remarks on the third vocal concert, in the last No. of the Harmonicon under the head Vocal Society, after pointing out the necessity of selecting a proper position for the conductor, or person who is to give the time, the following short, but expressive sentence occurs: ‘The maestro should be seen by every performer, but not heard. We can with propriety extend this observation to the instrumental part of the orchestra, beseeching both leader and conductor to abstain from such merciless stamping of feet, as occurred during the performance of most of the full pieces.’ This, Sir, is excellent, and had you written a volume on the subject you could not, in my opinion, have said more to the purpose, or have made yourself more clearly understood. In fact you have, in few words, given the most judicious and salutary advice, not only to the parties immediately concerned, but to all others (and they are very numerous) to whom it may contingently apply.

Perhaps you will smile at my enthusiasm, when I tell[Pg 96] you that most heartily do I wish the foregoing short, but expressive sentence, might be printed in a large type, framed and glazed, and hung up in the sitting-room and bed-chamber (unless one room should unhappily answer both purposes) of every leader and conductor in town and country. I am an Englishman, Mr. Editor, and am proud to witness the splendid talent which many of my countrymen, as vocal and instrumental performers, possess; but, as conductors, (with one or two exceptions,) they do not at present appear to me to have acquired that happy method of conveying their own ideas, or instructions to a large orchestra, which I have more than once seen so skillfully displayed by Moscheles, Hummel, the Chevalier Neukomm, and Mendelssohn. Let any one of these gentlemen be installed maestro, and you will find the band invariably go well, unless, indeed, it be thwarted and checked by the caprice of an overbearing, arbitrary leader: there is no ‘stamping of feet’ with them; but all is conducted in silence. Having studied the score, such a conductor as any one of these relies on himself, and acts with firmness. There is no ambiguity, every motion of the baton is decisive, every glance of the eye expressive, and he makes himself clearly understood by each individual performer. This appears to me, Sir, to be the proper business of the maestro, and of him only. So adieu for the present, Messieurs the Conductors.

And now, for a word or two with the leaders. That ‘stamping of feet,’ Mr. Editor, which you complain of, is, most assuredly, an abominable nuisance, which, strange as it may appear to those of your readers who have not witnessed it, even the Philharmonic Concert, with the best band, perhaps, in Europe, is not entirely free from. I am amazed how any man possessed of common sense, and who is capable of enjoying good music, can so far forget himself, as to be guilty of a practice so glaringly absurd, and there have been times when I have expected the whole band would simultaneously lay down their instruments, and remonstrate against the use of so barbarous a custom. Some years ago, I heard the following anecdote: A very respectable member of the Philharmonic Band obtained permission to take with him to the rehearsal, a blind youth, who had a great passion for music, and, being self-taught, played on the violin. This lad had never in his life heard any music of a high class, such, for instance, as an overture, or symphony; nor, indeed, had he ever before heard a full band. Judge then of the delight he experienced upon hearing a symphony performed by the Philharmonic orchestra! yet, in the midst of his raptures, he complained of a noise which at intervals disturbed his attention and greatly annoyed him, and very innocently exclaimed, ‘what a pity it is that mill should be so near the concert-room!’ Alas! poor boy, the noise which so much offended him, was produced by the leader’s foot-clack.

I will venture to ask, did the elder Cramer, Salomon, or Viotti—men of as great talent, I apprehend, as any in the present day—did they, or either of them, annoy both the audience and the band by beating the time, as it were, with a wooden shoe? If I may form an opinion by what I have seen and heard of Mr. Weichsel, (who may be considered as belonging to the same school,) I should answer—No.

Then, Sir, there is another habit which of late years seems to have become fashionable with at least some of our leaders, but which, in my opinion, is as useless and offensive as the ‘stamping of feet.’ The custom I allude to is, for the leader to leave off playing at certain intervals, and then, assuming what I presume he thinks a very elegant attitude, and commanding position, flourishing his bow backwards and forwards most heroically. So that, while this species of charlatanism is going on, there are, in fact, two conductors, and no leader! I presume this is done either to catch the attention of the ladies, or to impress on the minds of the unthinking part of the audience, an idea of his importance and zeal. I have more than once shut my eyes to avoid looking at this—what shall I call it?—coquetting with the audience—and have exclaimed in the words of Shakspeare—‘that’s villainous, and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it.’ I have always entertained the notion that the leader, or principal violin, should play his part, and that he, like every other performer, should take the time from the conductor [49]. This, I understand, was the method pursued by M. Chelard, the maestro at the German opera last season at the King’s Theatre. He proved himself an excellent conductor; and I have been told by one of the best musical critics in this country that, with confessedly an inferior band, (for he had not the assistance of Nicholson, Willman, Platt, Lindley, or Dragonetti,) the orchestral accompaniments were much more effective, and in every respect superior to the Italian Opera.

I am happy to close these remarks, by stating that the same judicious and rational plan appeared to be adopted at the second Philharmonic concert this season; the consequence was, that two very difficult symphonies of Spohr and Beethoven were most admirably performed.

MAELZEL’S NEW METRONOME.

REPORT made to the Academy of the Fine Arts, 20th October, 1832, by its Musical Committee on the Third Metronome of Maelzel.

YOU have heard read the two first reports made to you by your musical committee on the Metronome of Maelzel, the first dated 14th October, 1815, and the second 23d May, 1818. Your committee are of opinion, that in the two former reports the utility of this ingenious instrument, and the perfection of its mechanism, have been so fully demonstrated, that it will be needless to fatigue your attention by further dissertation on those points. What your committee now beg to call your attention to is, a still further[Pg 97] improvement which the author has added to his instrument.

From the time of Sauveur to the present, all the time-keepers and metronomes have been limited to marking the time to be occupied by each bar of a composition, and all have performed this in a uniform manner; but, as in our musical system, the bars are divided into accented and unaccented parts, and none of the instruments hitherto invented indicated this division, they were, if the comparison may be permitted, like foot-measures divided into spaces by a number of equidistant parallel lines, but on which the marks indicating inches, half-inches, &c. had been totally omitted. The indications of the accented and unaccented parts of a bar can only be felt in relation to the bar itself, of which they form subdivisions, therefore they cannot be classed as accented or unaccented until the beating of the bar itself has been heard.

Mr. Maelzel has long since adopted the idea of adding to his metronomes this indication of beaten time in every kind of measure, whether 2, 3, 4, or 6–8, and whatever might be the rapidity or slowness of the time; but while he was occupied at a distance from France in bringing his project to perfection, M. Bienaimé, a watchmaker at Amiens, submitted to the examination of the Conservatory of Music an instrument of a very complicated construction, intended to attain the same object. Unfortunately, notwithstanding all the talent the inventor had bestowed on his new metronome, he had not any mechanical principle for its foundation, so that it is liable to be continually out of order. The balance-wheel, which he has adopted as a regulator, is set in motion by a straight spring, which is equivalent to the spiral spring of a watch; and according to the greater or less tension of this spring, the vibrations of the balance-wheel are slower or more rapid. This spring is, therefore, the most important part of the instrument; and to secure its regularity of action, it ought not to be subject to any alterations; but this is not the case,—for the spring, which, in performing its functions, describes large arcs, will lose its flexibility, and no longer give the same number of vibrations for the same divisions on the dial. Besides, the dial-plate can only be divided according to the force of the spring, and if that gives or breaks, a new spring will require a new division of the dial-plate; the one cannot be renewed without the other.

Mr. Maelzel, by adopting as the foundation of his contrivance the unchangeable laws of the pendulum, has constructed a machine at once simple, free from all incertitude, and not subject to any derangement in its action. This last metronome has moreover the advantage of a much greater extent in its power of marking both slow and quick time. In the old instruments the slowest movement that could be marked was 50, and the fastest 160; the present extends as far as 40 for slow movements, and 208 for quick, that is to say, 10 vibrations slower and 48 quicker than the precedent ones. The improvements made by Mr. Maelzel in his metronome, instead of increasing, have tended to diminish its cost; and we are of opinion that the degree of facility with which new and useful ideas in the cultivation of the arts and sciences can be circulated, ought to be taken into consideration; for, to render this circulation easy, it is necessary that the savant, or artist, who thinks it his duty to employ any of these new methods, should be able to acquire that power at a moderate expense. We are of opinion, therefore, without intending in any way to injure M. Bienaimé, that the metronome of M. Maelzel deserves the preference on many accounts; priority of idea, simplicity of construction, regularity of movement, solidity, elegance of form, and diminution of price, even with the addition of the mechanism for marking the time as beaten. Everything, in fact, appears to authorize our proposing that the academy should accord its approbation to the report we have now the honour to make; for, in our opinion, M. Maelzel, by this ingenious instrument, of which he has entrusted the construction to M. Wagner, one of the ablest mechanics in the capital, has rendered to the musical art a service which may be compared to that heretofore rendered to navigation by the invention of the mariner’s compass.

AN AMATEUR’S MUSICAL PARTY AT THE FREEMASONS’ TAVERN.

THE name of an accomplished Devonshire baronet (Sir John Rogers) has frequently appeared in the Harmonicon, during the last two or three years; those, therefore, of its readers who have not the pleasure of his personal acquaintance, are, nevertheless, fully aware of his musical acquirements. But only his more immediate friends and associates, who have heard most if not all of his anthems, madrigals, and glees, can justly appreciate his merit as a composer.

On Saturday the 6th of April, a musical party dined with this distinguished amateur at the Freemasons’ Tavern. Upwards of forty of his private and professional friends were invited, among whom were Lord Saltoun, Mr. Capel, Sir Andrew Bernard, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Gwilt, Mr. Ayrton, Mr. Vaughan, Mr. C. Freeling, Mr. Milne, Mr. W. Linley, Col. Rogers, Mr. Sanford, the Rev. F. Hamilton, Mr. Horsley, Mr. Terrail, Mr. Oliphant, Mr. T. Welsh, Mr. J. B. Sale, Mr. Bellamy, Mr. Leete, Mr. Hawes, Mr. King, Mr. Goss, Mr. J. Jolly, Mr. Pye, Mr. Novello, Mr. Turle, Mr. Horncastle, Mr. Hobbs, Mr. A. Novello, Mr. C. Evans, Mr. M’Murdie, Mr. Nicks, Mr. Bates, Mr. Elliott, Mr. Brownsmith, Mr. Streete, Mr. Walmisley, Mr. Gedye, Mr. Spencer, Mr. Moxley, &c. An excellent dinner was put on the table at half-past five, the worthy host, of course, presiding. When the cloth was withdrawn, a Grace, ‘For these and all his mercies,’ composed by the president, (a canon three in one,) was sung by all the company, and not only pronounced, but felt by every one present, to be an exceedingly clever, effective production, remarkable not merely for technical skill, but also for the elegant simplicity, the vocality of the subject; and melody, so necessary an ingredient in all good compositions, is but rarely to be found in that species denominated canon.

After grace, the last Gresham prize-anthem, for five voices and chorus, composed by Mr. Kellow John Pye of[Pg 98] Exeter, was performed, and received with richly-deserved plaudits, which must have proved highly gratifying and encouraging to the author, who was present and gave the time of the several movements. The other pieces sung during the evening, thirteen in number, came—many of them quite fresh—from the pen of the talented baronet.

Our limits do not allow us to enter critically into the merits of each composition; to pass them all in silence would be unjust; and yet it is difficult to say which is best where all show such superiority of genius, knowledge, and taste, and we mention the four following merely as specimens or samples of the whole. 1. A canon, six in two, ‘Lighten our darkness,’ a very masterly production, such as none but a good theorist, possessed of a rich imagination, could have written. 2. ‘When I listen to thy voice,’ an admirable glee for five voices. We had heard this before, at the Hanover Square Rooms, and hope frequently to meet with it. 3. ‘Hears not, my Phillis,’ and 4. ‘Oh! how I long my careless limbs to lay,’ two madrigals, each for six voices, of which we will remark—parodying what Dr. Johnson says of Homer and his translator Pope—if the author of ‘Sweet honey-sucking bees’ were to class his successors, he would assign a very high place to the writer of these madrigals, without requiring any other evidence of genius.

By a reference to the list of visiters it will be seen how many of our principal vocalists were present; and to these were added four of the young choristers of Westminster Abbey: it is, therefore, unnecessary to state, except in justice to them, that the several pieces were executed in the most perfect manner. The performers exerted themselves con amore, and the pleasure they so evidently felt was doubly enjoyed by those who listened to the united excellence of composition and performance.

Our conjecture is that the foregoing comes from the pen of a musician, and we are rejoiced to find a professional man able and willing to proclaim the merit of an amateur composer. It is too much the practice in the present day for musicians par métier to undervalue, to sneer at the compositions of such as do not directly or indirectly gain a livelihood by their productions, it not being considered—or perhaps the fact is endeavoured to be concealed—that those who to a sufficiency of musical science and experience add the fruits of education and cultivation, are much more likely to excel than such as have no knowledge beyond their own art; or, rather, who know their own art but imperfectly; for to understand any art or science well, it is absolutely necessary to have acquired a considerable share of subsidiary knowledge, not only for the sake of bringing that knowledge to bear upon the main object, but also because the mind is invigorated in proportion to the quantity of information it has received. The compositions of the worthy baronet, to whose hospitality as well as talents we are, it is our belief, indebted for the above pleasant communication, show how far an intellect strengthened by real learning, and refined by many accomplishments, soars above minds not so improved. Of the madrigal, ‘Oh! how I long my weary limbs to lay,’ we have no reluctance in saying, that any living professional composer, who would attempt to compete with it, must have more confidence in his own ability than we have in his chance of successful rivalry.

MR. Z. T. PURDAY’S REPLY TO MRS. MILLARD’S LETTER.

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

I was somewhat surprised on glancing over the pages of the last number of the Harmonicon at finding a letter signed ‘Virtue Millard,’ commencing thus:—‘As I wish to avoid all communications with Mr. Z. T. Purday, Music publisher, &c. &c.’ followed by a charge of my having sent her an impertinent message! Now, although I have the honour of being personally acquainted with most of the professors of any eminence, both in the metropolis and throughout the kingdom, I have never enjoyed or sought the felicity of being introduced to that lady; nor am I aware of ever having authorised any person to convey to her a message of any kind, much less of an ‘impertinent’ character; the ‘offence’ to which she alludes, as well as the ‘accompanying impertinence,’ must, therefore, have been the work of some idle gossip. It is true I have an imperfect recollection of some person having called on me soon after my publication of Mr. T. Haynes Bayly’s ‘Songs for the Grave and Gay,’ stating, he had left the volume with Mrs. Millard for her perusal, which she returned, remarking that there was nothing in it worthy her notice, and that the work would never take with the musical public. Preferring, however, your judgment, (see ‘Harmonicon’ for April, 1831,) which I am happy to say has been borne out by a result perfectly satisfactory to me, and diametrically opposed to that lady’s gratuitous opinion, I think it very probable I might not, in return, have complimented either her musical taste or critical acumen.

A word respecting the ‘French air’ and I have done:—I beg to say that I never knew Mr. Cross had arranged it until he brought the M.S. to me and requested to have it engraved on his own account, neither have I seen the plates, or a single copy of the work since the proofs were sent to that gentleman.

Whether Mrs. Millard had ever seen or heard Rode’s melody, with the well known association of Catalani’s name, or, in examining the ‘Songs for the Grave and Gay,’ had subsequently discovered in ‘Upbraid me not,’ (which is adapted to the ‘French air’ in question,) a great similarity to her own ballad, and hence the pretext for the unwarrantable use of my name, I now leave to her own feelings and the judgment of your readers; regretting that I have been obliged to trespass so much upon the pages of your valuable journal.

[Pg 99]

MEMOIRS OF DR. BURNEY, BY HIS DAUGHTER MAD. D’ARBLAY.

[Continued from page 75.]

Of the publication of Volume II. of Dr. Burney’s great work we have the following account:—

and restored himself, in a certain degree, to his family, his friends, and a general and genial enjoyment of his existence. And hailed was the design, by all who knew him, with an energetic welcome.

“And yet, in breathing thus a little from so unremitting an ardour; and allowing himself to bask awhile in that healing sunshine of applause which administers more relief to the brain-shattered and mind-exhausted patient, than all the materia medica of the Apothecaries’ Hall; so small still, and so fugitive were his intervals of relaxation, that the diminished exertion, which to him was gentle rest, would, to almost any other, have still seemed overstrained occupation, and a life of drudgery.

“With no small pleasure, now, he resumed his wonted place at the opera, at concerts, and in circles of musical excellence; which then were at their height of superiority, because presided over by the royal and accomplished legislator of taste, fashion, and elegance, the Prince of Wales [51]; who frequently deigned to call upon Dr. Burney for his opinion upon subjects of harmony: and even condescended to summon him to his royal vicinity, both at the opera and at concerts, that they might ‘compare notes,’ in his own gracious expression, upon what was performing.”

In the following year the Doctor, through the influence of Mr. Burke, obtained the situation of organist to Chelsea College, to which chambers are attached, and of which the salary was raised upon this occasion from 20l. to 50l. per annum. The appointment was announced in the following handsome letter by Mr. Burke himself:—

It is known that Doctor Burney wrote an account of the Commemoration of Handel: on this subject his memorialist is more diffuse than on most others which relate alone to music. The following remarks on his presenting the copyright to the Musical Fund are very just, and the following details respecting the interest his Majesty took in the progress and matter of the work, not only new, but highly interesting.

ON THE BASE VOICE.

(From La Revue Musicale.)

THE base voice, whose powerful accents, combined with such tender and pathetic expression, produce at present such a wonderful effect, was little used in the serious Italian opera at the beginning of this century, and is almost unknown in the dramatic compositions of the early Italian school. Tito, Idomeneo, and Orazio were written for tenor voices, contrary to all reason and to the received rules of good taste [53]. The part of the High Priest in Gli Orazi was the first in which a base voice became conspicuous, sustaining so beautifully the trio in E flat

; but even this was added by Cimarosa long after the first production of his opera, the trio being originally only a duet. It should seem as if the composer had not dared to avail himself of a quality of voice, in the more dignified characters of tragedy, which had hitherto been entirely appropriated to the buffo parts, such as Don Gruffo, &c. It must, however, be considered as the first triumph of the base voice, which has since run so glorious a career supported by such champions as Pellegrini, Galli, Lablache, and Tamburini. Indeed, who could have made Mozart, Paisiello, or Cimarosa, believe that their more fortunate successors would have had at their disposal, a voice deep and sonorous, which would be able to execute the rapid passages of the prima donna two octaves below; to modulate on a subject; or execute an andantino with the same facility as a tenor or a soprano? The appropriation of the higher parts of tragedy, and the more brilliant ones of comedy, by base singers, is scarcely of thirty years’ standing, since in Tancredi, one of the first, as well as one of the best of Rossini’s compositions, but modelled on the old Italian system, Orgirio is written for a high voice; while to the base is given a character of very little importance. Base singing is undoubtedly the triumph of the present age; and it was much wanted to supply, in the Italian Opera, the place of the male soprani, for which the female voice is but a poor substitute, and which it can never fully replace. The French dramatic style has gradually introduced itself into the Italian Opera; and it is to Rossini, wonderfully seconded by the flexible and fine toned base voices he has had to write for, that we owe such works as Otello, La Gazza Ladra, Mosè, &c., where scenic effect is happily blended with the charms of melody, and that of the orchestra with the rich tones of the human voice. The introduction of base voices into the serious opera, the execution of the bold and brilliant passages, written for them in comic parts, has regenerated the Italian Opera, which was simply a concert dramatized; while the Italian singers, feeling how much the effect of music may be aided by scenic illusion, have, for the most part, become excellent actors. In short, we may say, that to hear such an opera as La Gazza Ladra performed by such singers as Rubini, Tamburini, Lablache, Graziani, Malibran, and Mariano, is the perfection of dramatic music.

[Pg 101]

REVIEW OF NEW MUSIC.

A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF HENRY PURCELL, from the best Authorities. 44 pages in folio. (J. A. Novello.) 1832.

THIS is the ‘Prefatory Number’ to a complete collection of Purcell’s Sacred Music, containing considerably more than a hundred of his compositions, which Mr. Novello has been publishing during the last three or four years, the early numbers whereof were sent to us, and noticed in our review as they appeared.

Purcell, take him for all in all, is the greatest musical genius that this country can boast; and our deliberate opinion is, that, from the earliest period in the history of music down to the moment of his death, Europe would in vain be searched to find his equal as a composer of secular vocal music. That he was to some extent indebted to Lulli, can hardly be denied by those who are well acquainted with the dramatic works of both; but that he far surpassed what, perhaps in compliment to our second Charles and to the fashion of the time, he occasionally took as his model, every impartial critic must admit. If, too, his cantatas—‘From rosy bowers,’ and ‘Mad Bess,’ for instance—be compared with compositions in a degree similar by Alessandro Scarlatti, which have been so highly praised and so long were vaunted, the vast superiority of the English musician, whether as relates to air, to harmony, to propriety of expression, or to beauty of effect, will never be disputed by unbiassed judges. Purcell’s great fame is, as we have before remarked, and now fearlessly repeat, founded on his productions for the theatre and the chamber: in his compositions for the church, he met with equals in his own country and superiors abroad; and when his anthems are compared with those of his successors,—those of Clark, Croft, Green, and Boyce,—though the science displayed in many of them, and the study which some have cost, will readily be granted, yet in melody, in pleasing combinations, and above all, in that judgment which dictates how sounds should be adapted to sense, it will be in vain that his admirers attempt to rank him with such of his followers as we have named, and who possessed advantages that seemed to have been denied to composers at the close of the seventeenth century.

Hence we are by no means sure that a collection of all Purcell’s sacred compositions was a publication to be desired, for we feel pretty certain that several of them would never with his concurrence have appeared in print. Composers are liable to be called upon, either in the performance of fixed duties, or to answer some temporary purpose, to write when ‘the muse is not on them,’ and all that can be expected under such circumstances is, that they acquit themselves so as to escape the censure of those immediately concerned with them,—of their contemporaries. It is rather hard for an author to be exposed, at the end of a century and a half, to the chance of being criticised for works on which he most probably set no value, and which he very likely hoped might never be heard of, after the immediate purpose which called them forth had been answered. Still we are most willing to give Mr. Novello every possible credit for research, activity, and zeal, and only wish that he had confined his views within narrower bounds: his collection would then have done still more honour to the author, have been more accessible to many, and not less useful to all. The anthems of Purcell in Boyce’s collection, those published by Goodison, and the six in the Harmonia Sacra printed by Walsh, are in few hands, and without an organ accompaniment: their republication, therefore, was almost called for, and in them are beauties which are as much the object of our admiration, as their defects are of our regret. These, with about half a dozen more, and the services, would have formed a collection that most would have wished to possess. But it is time to look at the biography.

It was not to be expected that any new facts remained to be collected concerning Purcell, and Mr. Novello does not profess to offer any: he has very diligently extracted every thing relating to him that is to be found in Hawkins and Burney, and not only all which is immediately connected with the subject of his memoir, but likewise accounts of those necessarily mentioned in the history of the principal, together with an abundance of other not absolutely necessary matter; thus producing a volume of forty-four very large folio pages, printed closely in small type, which might easily have been swelled out into as many more, or indeed to an unlimited extent, by the same ramifying process. Nevertheless, those who are fond of such discursive biography, and have not read the histories of Hawkins or Burney, will be informed and amused by Mr. Novello’s numerous and copious extracts.

Mr. Novello does not strive to impress us with any very favourable notion of Purcell’s morals: he gives, apparently as his own, Hawkins’s observations on this subject, and, by omitting the usual marks of quotation, makes himself responsible for the slurs cast by another. But as he thus adopts so unfavourable an opinion of the musician’s private character, he should have been more guarded in speaking of Mrs. Purcell, and not have applied to her epithets which no facts that we are acquainted with can at all justify. It was Purcell’s failing, it seems, to associate with objectionable persons, and to pass late hours with a profligate character in haunts of by no means a reputable kind. Sir John Hawkins states this without any reserve; and also relates, on hearsay, that Purcell, coming home late one night, heated with wine, was refused admittance by his wife, and by being kept a considerable time in the street, caught cold, and died in consequence. But the historian does not give credit to this story,—the only one alleged against the, most likely, neglected wife: and even if true, it would hardly authorize such terms as ‘arrogant,’—‘low-minded and termagant woman,’—‘ill-tempered and hypocritical termagant,’ &c. bestowed on her by her husband’s present biographer. Where are we to find any facts to warrant such language,—or, indeed, to warrant any reproaches at all?

Mr. Novello has in this ‘Prefatory Number’ inserted whatever he could find or gather concerning the composer of the works he has edited. He has deemed it advisable to reprint Dr. Burney’s article, ‘Purcell,’ from the Cyclopædia of Rees; extracts from the Encyclopædia Britannica, and from the Encyclopædia Metropolitana; from the Harmonicon; several from the Atlas; from Crotch’s Lectures,[Pg 102] &c.; also communications from many of his musical friends, in the nature of commendatory letters. Likewise a statement of the origin of his present publication, with the original prospectus, and an interesting account of a highly talented and learned lady, ‘unknown to fame,’ a Mrs. Hurst, daughter of the late Mr. White, well remembered as the early friend of Mr. Bartleman, and the auctioneer who sold all the fine musical libraries that were brought to the hammer from nearly the end of the last century till about the year 1824. These are followed by seven pages of ‘Preliminary Remarks,’ condensed from the ‘Quarterly Review, and from various other sources of information.’ They contain short biographical notices of all our church composers, with many notes, comprising several curious and entertaining anecdotes. This he concludes with a statement which we, in common with all those who wish his indefatigable zeal and industry had experienced more encouragement, regret having been called for.—He says, ‘The Editor of this work has endeavoured to contribute his share towards these efforts, by bringing forward this collection of sterling compositions for the church service. Hitherto his endeavours have been but very little assisted or encouraged by the clergy who have the control in choirs, where these anthems would be found most useful:—for out of the forty-two cathedral and collegiate establishments in England, which were endowed with funds for the support of no fewer than three hundred and sixty-eight choristers, only three choirs have come forward to give the least support to this collection of Purcell’s sacred music: viz. St. Paul’s Cathedral, Westminster Abbey, and Durham, which have each subscribed to the work, but for one copy only.’

‘The clergy,’ he continues, ‘will probably soon find that it will be for their own interest to alter the system of tasteless apathy, careless indifference, and avaricious meanness, which have so long characterized the behaviour of the generality of them, in what relates to the musical department of the service, as well as their shabby, grasping conduct respecting the funds, which ought to be appropriated to the remuneration of the members of the choirs that have been subjected to their management. The slothful and useless drones amongst the clerical body, who have hitherto been allowed to enjoy such valuable benefices and large incomes for doing little or nothing themselves, will perhaps find it advisable, for their own sakes, to consider whether the public, who have been so much enlightened lately upon certain matters, will consent much longer to pay so high a price, or any price at all, for the meagre and uninteresting musical service which is provided for them by these selfish and niggardly, but impolitic and short-sighted persons. It is not very likely that, after the improvement which has taken place in the general taste for good music, the people will continue to be attracted by such common-place, insipid compositions and performances, as those which are but too frequently heard in our rich church establishments, which have already wasted, and still continue to swallow up annually such large sums of the public money. Unless some decided and extensive change for the better should speedily take place, the probability is, that these enormous funds will not only be considerably reduced, so as to be placed upon a more rational and just footing of proportion between the sum paid, and what is received by the public in return for it; but the funds themselves will most likely be transferred to the hands of other persons, who will make a more conscientious appropriation of them to the purposes for which they were really intended; who will have the sagacity to perceive, and the good sense to act according to the demands of the increased intelligence, the improved taste, and the more liberal spirit of the age.’—p. 43.

ORIGINAL COMPOSITIONS, in Prose and Verse, illustrated with Lithographic Drawings, to which is added some VOCAL and INSTRUMENTAL Music. 4to. (Lloyd, Harley Street). 1833.

This is a volume got up ‘for the benefit of a family in reduced circumstances,’ and contains fourteen prose and poetical pieces, with ten short musical compositions, the whole gratuitously contributed. We, of course, direct our attention to the latter part only.

1. The first is a song by the Chevalier Neukomm, ‘I call’d on the hopes of the years that are past,’ in two movements, is full of pathos, and, considered as a simple, unlaboured effusion, is one of his most pleasing and successful productions.

2. Mr. J. B. Cramer has contributed a very brief, easy air for the piano-forte, in the few bars of which his peculiar style is easily traced.

3. A German air, ‘Gruss,’ the poetry by H. Heine, composed by M. Mendelssohn Bartholdy, the whole comprised in fifteen bars, contains much in a very small compass.

4. A march, by Frederic Arthur Gore Ouseley, a child six years old when he composed it, is one of the most marvellous productions of this age of musical wonders, and as such we have added it to the music in our present number. We can speak of the extraordinary, the unexampled genius of this little boy—now only seven years and a half old—on the authority of a gentleman, in whose report we place the most implicit confidence. He has received no instructions in music, and though taught by himself to play with considerable skill on the piano-forte, does not know his notes on paper, and trusts to his sisters for writing down what he composes. He improvises entire scenes, singing to his own accompaniment, the latter often exhibiting harmony the most recherchée, chords that an experienced musician only uses with caution; but these are always introduced and resolved in a strictly regular manner, not by rule, for he has learnt no rules, but by the aid of a very surprising ear, and of some faculty, which, for want of a better term, we will call intuition. His organ of hearing is so fine, that, with his eyes closed, he instantly names any musical sound produced; and so discriminating is this sense in the child, that, when a note is struck on an instrument, tuned either above or below the usual pitch, he immediately discovers and accurately states in what the deviation consists. A chord of four notes being sounded, he named each note exactly, though at some distance from the instrument, and with his back turned to it. When five years of age he suffered during some weeks from a continued fever, and on his recovery composed a piece of music descriptive of the commencement of the disease, its progress, crisis, and abatement, intending it as a present to his physician for the care and attention he had bestowed on him. Though an abundance of lively fancy is displayed in this, there is nothing in it at all extravagant or ridiculous; on the contrary, it is strictly en règle, and expresses, as well as inarticulate sounds are capable of expressing sensations, all the variety of feeling which would be experienced in the course of a long fever. This precocious genius is the son of the Right Honourable Sir Gore Ouseley, Bart., G.C.H., whose learning and high acquirements are well known in all parts of the civilized world: and under a French governess and[Pg 103] a tutor for Latin, his education is proceeding in the usual manner, music forming no part of it. His intellects are quick, and declare themselves in a countenance remarkable for intelligence and beauty. His habits and amusements are suited to his age, and the activity of his mind does not appear to have operated unfavourably on his general health, which seems to be good, and as well established as is usual with children of his years.

No. 5 is a short expressive air in A flat, by the same gifted child. This is his favourite key; and A flat with the minor third is the mode which he prefers when he has occasion to use the minor key.

No. 9 is a Minne-Lied, by C. Klingemann, in A, nine-eighth time, in which much character is exhibited, and an air of no common kind.

No. 10 is a Tyrolienne, a lively piece of three short pages, by the Honourable Miss Jervis, but, though agreeable, does not show any of those original traits which sometimes characterize this lady’s compositions.

PIANO-FORTE.

Lo! here we have the Fra Diavolo again! There is nothing like wearing a thing thoroughly out, so getting rid of it speedily, composers seem to think. But is this not as bad as cutting up the bird that produced such valuable eggs? A good opera is a rarity, so is a good song; and no sooner do we obtain either, than we set about the means of surfeiting everybody with it.

M. Czerny has intended well in choosing subjects from Auber’s opera that are not so common as many others, but he has thus selected the least pleasing. Our readers may perhaps call us unreasonable, and say, that we object to the popular airs because they are worn out, and to those less worn because not popular. Our reply is, that M. Czerny was not driven to an alternative, and should have selected neither the one nor the other, but directed his attention elsewhere. He has here produced a very common-place, dull affair—a fantaisie, in which there is no fancy, and a continual drumming on the high notes, till the auditor is quite fatigued with such an unbroken succession of ear-piercing sounds. Whoever invented the additional keys above ought to be declared guilty of a misdemeanour.

M. Adolphe Adam has gone into the other extreme, and chosen subjects that every one knows by heart. These, however, he has managed gracefully, and produced a divertimento at once easy and pleasing.

La Bayadère is now performing at Drury Lane, under the title of The Maid of Cashmere, where its success depends much more on the dancing than the music. There is a vivacity in the first and second of the above which will procure them attention, though, except that skittish kind of liveliness which marks M. Auber’s latter productions, they possess nothing out of the very common way. The third, however, is more original, and will be effective in almost any form; as a stage piece it is particularly so. M. Herz has arranged these all in a more rational manner than is customary with him, though he is as fond of the additional notes as M. Czerny, and others of the tinkling school.

The very grandiloquent word, ‘inspiration.’ led us to hope that we should find M. Reissiger under the immediate influence and auspices of Phœbus; that we should meet with flights of imagination, efforts of genius, such as can only be expected under favour of a god—or, at least, of a Muse; but on looking at these darling rondos, we soon perceived that neither Apollo nor any of the Nine had taken any trouble in the matter, and that the inspirations boasted of were at the best but mere dreams, brought about by the fumes of mum, or German beer. These, we grant, are pretty, unaffected, easy pieces, prudently short, and will make a little variety in the modern repertory, where, in truth, we find little else than opera airs in every form except a new one.

No. 4 is—what shall we say?—it is Mr. Gödbe’s version of a march now enjoying the full tide of military popularity. Of course, every publisher puts forth his own edition, and the present is a very easy one, with a page of appropriate introduction.

DUETS, PIANO-FORTE.

The Jubilee Overture is well known to our readers as a grand military piece, a réjouissance, in which the clamourous shouts of joy are chiefly intended to be expressed, and what is called science, as being out of place, is not to be looked for. M. Czerny has done it justice in his arrangement, and not exacted too much from the performers, though he could not make the upper part easy; but he has rendered the whole effective, if placed in proper hands.

No. 2 is Carafa’s ‘Aure felici,’ and No. 3 is another air by the same, converted into very agreeable, short, and comparatively easy duets.

VOCAL.

The two first of these glees obtained the prizes given by the gentlemen of the Manchester Glee Club; Mr. Novello’s was successful last year, and Mr. Shore’s the year preceding.

Mr. Novello’s glee, in A, six quavers in a bar, for four equal, or men’s voices, is in one movement, though the time is rather slackened at page 7, but intended, we presume, to be recovered after the pause, in which case the want of proper notice is an omission that may mislead. This is a composition which will gain the applause of the connoisseur as well as the mere admirer of vocal harmony; the words are set with great propriety, there is no want of pleasing melody, and the technical part is evidence of the author’s ability. The length of the glee, however, excites a wish for a little more modulation: by the frequent repetition of the subject, good as it is in the same key, the ear begins to grow rather impatient, and desires some decided change for the sake of that variety which in a long piece is so needful. But then comes in a holding base, operating like a charm, and a passage (page 9) where the lowest voice imitates the first tenor, introducing some of those syncopated notes so delightful to people of cultivated taste, reconciling us to what had begun to excite some slight degree of mental murmur. Mr. Novello has not spared the countertenor, who frequently is called upon to hold a C sharp, and the other parts demand from the performers more effort than glee-singers in general like to exert. The chances are that many of them will complain that this does not ‘sing well;’ but it is high time to rouse them; drowsy glees which have no merit except that of being ‘well written,’—for such is the phrase under which much dulness is attempted to be concealed,—will not much longer be listened to with that forbearance which has too often been extended to them.

Mr. Shore’s glee in D is for three equal voices, and in three movements, the first and last quick, the second rather slower. When we have said that this is not an unpleasing composition, and that it makes no pretence, we have bestowed as much praise on it as is at all allowable. It certainly has not the smallest claim to originality, either in design or execution, and must have been very fortunate in the kind of competitors it had to contend against.

No. 3 is a clear and pleasing melody, agreeably harmonized for soprano, alto, tenor, and bass, and the exceedingly touching words of Burns are set with taste and feeling.

No. 1 is an accompanied recitative, with a long harp introduction. The romance which follows, in G minor,—a happy mixture of the Italian and German styles,—is full of passion and melodious effect.

The recitative to No. 2 is not very striking. The duet which follows opens in D flat, adagio, and passes into a moderato in B flat. Good as this is, it must not be concealed, that it is written decidedly in imitation of Rossini.

Sig. Crivelli’s Notturnos will not be disapproved by those who encourage the Italian style of the age immediately preceding the present. They are less simple than the productions of the Venetian and Neapolitan schools, but have not much imagination or vigour. A few inaccuracies have eluded the eye of the composer, among which standing in great need of correction are, octaves between the second voice and the base, page 3, bar 2; and a D flat rising instead of falling, in last bar of page 8.

No. 5 is one of those things which may be heard half a dozen times without leaving the slightest impression; and that might have been written by any one having sufficient technical skill to put the notes in right order. But the composer is a maestro. He is an instance of what fame may be acquired in the musical world by a single air.

No. 6 is far from a common melody; and but for certain harsh notes, arising from an over-strained though laudable attempt at originality, we should add, that the accompaniment is as masterly as it is bold. An A double-flat, page 3, is beyond our comprehension. Had it not occurred twice, we should have concluded that B double-flat was intended. This canzonet, however, considered altogether, is highly creditable in every may to Mr. Barnett.

BALLET OPERA, The Maid of Cashmere, or La Bayadère, composed by AUBER, and adapted to the English stage by HENRY R. BISHOP. (Chappell.)

No. 1 (‘Comment, aimables Bayadères’) possesses one great charm, that of originality, and of a pleasing kind too, though we cannot add that the words are set in a manner corresponding with the sentiment or the scene. The second movement of this is an air that must soon become popular.

No. 2 (‘O bords heureux du Gange’) is exceedingly light, pretty, and novel: there are too many words for the notes, in both languages, and, as in the former case, the sound does not agree with the sentiment. Love is tender,[Pg 105] not sportive: there is in this passion nothing of a comic kind to plead an apology for music of so very playful a description.

In No. 3 (‘Sois ma Bayadère’) the composer partly imitates himself, and partly Rossini. There is nothing worth a remark in this.

Nothing can be more common than No. 4; not a phrase, not a cadence, but what has been worn to tatters years and years past. We should have guessed this to be an English air, did not the title-page inform us otherwise.

No. 5 is a failure in English, whatever it may be in the original language. We have rarely met with words, both in signification and accent, so ill adapted to the music as are the present.

No. 1 is the magnificent duet for tenor and base, ‘Si j’aurai ce courage?’ of which we have spoken more than once.

No. 3 is delicate and pleasing, though it does not seem to have cost the composer much effort.

No. 4 is more studied; and by four changes in the time broken into as many short movements, the last of which, in C minor, is the strain of the ‘most melancholy’ Philomel, an interesting air.

No. 5 is an ably imagined, well-written, and very pleasing song. No. 6 was favourably noticed by us long ago, as part of a volume entitled the Songs of the Flowers.

No. 7 is composed with taste, but laboured; it was not ‘struck out at a heat.’

The English words of No. 8 are well set to the Welsh air which furnished a melody, much more than a century ago, to Gay’s ‘Cease your funning.’ What success Mr. Parry has had with his Cambrian poetry in union with the melody, it is not in our power to say, we having no cunning in his native language.

No. 9 is as agreeable as most Swiss airs are, and so like many that all the world have heard, that, unless it had been sent to us as new, we should have believed it to be of three or four years’ standing at least. In fact, hear half a dozen of these Helvetic melodies, and you hear them all; there is a prodigious family likeness in them. M. Stockhausen is over-productive; he wants some musical Malthus to curb him.

PIANO-FORTE AND FLUTE.

The first of the above is the overture in E now played, not that originally written for the opera. Considered as arranged for the piano-forte, with accompaniments for two flutes, there is nothing ridiculous in this,—indeed the effect of it is good; but when called a trio, a smile is drawn from us:—the overture to Fidelio as a trio for two flutes and piano!

No. 2 makes a very charming duet, requiring two players of the better kind, whose execution is neat rather than brilliant. M. J. Czerny has put an Introduzione to this, and added five variations, all of which, the finale excepted, are in character with the air, and will not disappoint expectation.

In No. 3, M. Kuhlau has proved how difficult it is to avoid the snares of fashion. He here succumbed to the prevailing depravity of taste, and wrote what may be called clever variations to Weber’s Romance, but certainly not appropriate ones. The whole of this demands two expert performers, whose time may be much better employed than in overcoming obstacles that are not worth conquering.

FLUTE.

No. 1 is a collection of airs, of all nations, that have been most popular during the last few years, each having two or more variations, in which the ease of the performers does not seem to have been a primary consideration. But the task, though somewhat severe for players in general, is not a long one, as one single page is the limit of each piece. This is a good selection, and the additions would be all of a commendable kind were they uniformly in keeping with the respective melodies; but all are brilliant, while many of the airs are quite different in character.

No. 2 is a small neat quarto publication of fourteen pages (upon which, by the by, a price any thing but reason[Pg 106]able is fixed), containing thirteen pieces from the opera, set in a studiously easy manner for the instrument.

VIOLONCELLO AND PIANO-FORTE.

SELECT ITALIAN AIRS from the most popular Operas, arranged by F. W. CROUCH. Nos. 1 and 2. (Chappell.)

Mr. Crouch has here restored to an air by Paisiello, ‘Ah, mia cara,’ and one by Sacchini, ‘Più non ho la dolce speranza,’ both of which were doubtless once ‘popular,’ but before our time, and, we suspect, ere Mr. C. took much cognizance of these matters. However, we are pleased to meet with them; and convinced as we are that it will soon be expedient to resuscitate many good things by the same composers, we hail this as something of a beginning. Both the present are as short and easy as can be imagined, and are as graceful as brief.

GUITAR AND PIANO-FORTE.

‘L’or est une chimère,’ from MEYERBEER’s Robert, arranged by W. NEULAND. Op. 12. (Chappell.)

These two instruments agree remarkably well together when the larger one uses its giant strength with moderation. The present is an excellent adaptation of an excellent air, and is so contrived that almost any two players may execute it, while the best need not blush to perform it. It is so short also, that it will bear an encore.

WE waited till the latest moment for the usual communication from a friendly correspondent of the Harmonicon, who has, for three or four years past, favoured us with his criticisms on these concerts, but not hearing from him till too late to furnish what he has omitted to supply, we can only give our readers the programmes of the last three performances.

FOURTH CONCERT,
Under the Direction of his Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland, Wednesday, March 27, 1833.

FIFTH CONCERT,
Under the Direction of Lord Burghersh, Wednesday, April 17, 1833.

SIXTH CONCERT,
Under the Direction of the Earl of Cawdor, Wednesday, April 24, 1833.

[Pg 107]

PHILHARMONIC CONCERTS.

The Symphony of Mozart, No. 3 of the scores, was played with great spirit and the utmost precision. This is one of the most animating of the composer’s works, and seems always to inspire the band as much as it excites the audience. The Pastoral Symphony was never better performed; every movement produced its due effect; even the andante, long as it is, was not felt tedious. Still we are persuaded, and experience confirms our opinion, that about a third of this might be omitted, with the most beneficial effect on the whole. Some of the passages are repeated over and over again; the reduction of these would hardly interfere with the author’s design, and, having been twice heard, might be spared without at all being missed. At all events, it is better that an audience should wish for more than complain of redundancy.

The Overture of M. Chelard (director of the German company that performed at the King’s Theatre last year) was now produced for the first time. It is altogether descriptive, and as a novel attempt, we give his programme, or explanation of it:—

‘The knights of St. George, of Bavaria, returning from the Crusades, are bringing back to the castle of Wallersee the remains of the count, its former possessor, and the grand master of their order, accompanied by Everhart of Schœnfeld, the banneret knight and nephew of the count, and the betrothed of his daughter Iolanda, who is supposed to have perished when the castle was laid in ruins by the usurper, Rodolph of Trento. The overture opens with a funeral march of the knights, followed by the triumphal song of the apotheosis. It then returns to the march, and afterwards to the song of triumph. The dead march is repeated; and as the knights recount the deeds of the hero, the voices of departed spirits are supposed to be heard welcoming him to heaven. The knights separate; Everhart remains alone; he approaches the chapel, and while there, lost in meditation, is suddenly startled by the bell announcing the midnight hour; the voices of the nuns blending with the organ in the anthem for the dead—“Dona pacem, sancte Deus clemens: audi preces nostras; Pater, miserere!” Thunder is heard. He distinguishes among the voices one of a female repeating his name. She approaches, and he recognizes his lost Iolanda, who had here sought refuge from the usurper’s tyranny.’

It must immediately be evident that not one half, not one sixth of this, admits of description in musical sounds. The funeral march, the little bell on which the hour was actually struck, and the motet,—sung by four persons concealed from view,—were all understood well enough; but the connexion of these with the story must have remained an enigma which would have defied Œdipus himself, but for the printed plot insinuated into the room. The overture, however, is a clever work, and shows a great deal of imagination, as well as knowledge of orchestral effects. The descriptive parts are as successful in exciting images as the means employed would admit, and some very good, indeed new harmonies, are dispersed throughout the composition. The author undertook a work which most living composers would have rendered perfectly ridiculous; he has produced what some admired, many approved, and very few condemned, and has steered clear of any gross absurdity: he therefore is entitled to our thanks for the boldness of his enterprise, and to our applause for the manner in which he has carried into execution so hazardous an attempt.

The Overture to Prometheus, too good for a finale, delighted all who stayed to hear it.

Mr. Nicholson’s Fantasia was, we hardly need say, beautifully played; but is an air with variations fit for such a concert? The directors, however, we conclude, must sometimes give way, and, like other great men, be governed by existing circumstances. The Quartet—the 5th, in A, the andante of which is the foundation of Carafa’s air ‘Aure felici,’—was most delicately executed.

Mr. Phillips sang young Callcott’s fine Scene in a most impressive manner. Miss C. Novello did all that is to be done with Mozart’s Aria, a composition from his Operngesaenge (opera songs, a collection of detached pieces), and is which, we can easily believe, the author did not take much pride. It is one of those written for a temporary occasion, and is unnoticed in his own catalogue. Mrs. Knyvett’s ‘With verdure clad’ was admired for its purity, though all wished that a less hackneyed air had been chosen. The same feeling was excited by the Terzetto, which, beautiful as it is, ought now to be laid by for a while. Moreover, it was not performed in the best possible manner.

The extent to which the epidemic, the Influenza, prevails, was visible enough in the thinned benches of the room this evening. Some few of the band, sufferers from the general malady, were also absent, but the others made up[Pg 108] by their exertions for deficiency in numbers, for never did the C minor of Beethoven go better; and Haydn’s lovely Symphony, in D, which, we hardly know why has been less used than most of the twelve grand, or Salomon’s, was performed with all the delicacy and spirit required to give due effect to it. And here we will observe en passant, that the last movement was rather too quick: the composer, it is true, marks it Presto, but moderates this by the caution ‘ma non troppo.’ His finales are now almost invariably hurried—an evil that was growing even in Salomon’s time, who in the last year of his life mentioned this to us in strong terms of reprobation. Unfortunately, when Haydn wrote nothing of the pendulum kind was in use, he therefore was only able to give his directions in the vague and often mistaken terms then and still employed in music.

The light and exceedingly pleasing overture to Preciosa abounds in original traits, and shows the versatility of the composer’s genius, as well as his great sense of fitness. Whoever hears this, will, without any previous information, conclude that it was written for a pastoral or a simple opera. The overture to the Freischütz at once announces the preternatural scenes, the magic, the diablerie, that are to follow. Thus he discriminated in his dramatic productions, which all, without a single exception that we are aware of, proved how much he thought, and how invariably to the purpose. The overture to Tito went off with splendid effect.

The novelty of the evening was the Septet of Mr. Moscheles, one of the pieces composed for the society, and an incontrovertible evidence of the wisdom as well as liberality of the members in engaging this gentleman, among others, to exercise his talents in their service. It consists of an allegro in D; a scherzo and trio in D minor; an adagio in B flat; and a finale in the major key. Clear as is the first movement, it made less impression on us than any of what followed. The scherzo is strikingly original; the adagio, full of feeling and exquisite taste; and the finale bounding with vivacity and joy. A work like this ought to be seen, or to be heard more than once, to enter fairly into all its merits, but we may venture to say, that this alone would be sufficient to establish the author’s reputation as a composer of the highest order, had he produced nothing else. It is long, certainly, and we should recommend that either the first movement be abridged, or that it be played without the repeat.

The concertante went off remarkably well. It is an able work, but lengthy, the nature of the composition being considered. Mori, in this, exerted himself very kindly in support of his young coadjutors: indeed his labours during the evening—as leader, and taking the violin part in the septet—were of no ordinary kind, and required as much corporeal strength as professional ability.

The aria, ‘Il mio tesoro,’ was passable. The scena of Mozart, ‘Misera! dove son?’ and following aria in E flat, ‘Ah! non so ion’ the seventh of his operngesaenge, possess, at least, the recommendation of not having been often heard, and Mrs. Bishop was not sparing, in exertion to do them every possible justice. Of the remaining vocal pieces, the less said the better; though it is fair to state, that Miss Shirreff was called upon at a late hour to supply the place of Mad. de Méric, and sang without rehearsing.

ROYAL ACADEMY OF MUSIC.

THE pupils of this institution had their first public concert for the season at the Hanover Square Rooms, on Saturday morning, March 30th, when the following pieces were performed by them exclusively:—

The movement from Hummel’s concerto was very neatly played by Master Johnson; but the most complete and gratifying performance was that of young Bennett, whose composition would have conferred honour on any established master, and his execution of it was really surprising, not merely for its correctness and brilliancy, but for the feeling he manifested, which, if he proceed as he has begun, must, in a few years, place him very high in his profession.

We were glad to meet with a Madrigal, and one of the finest extant, in this concert: hitherto the pupils have been allowed to indulge too much in fashionable music, half of which, moderately estimated, is downright trash, while they have been kept too ignorant of the really great masters.

Whoever is teacher of Handel’s vocal music in this academy, should himself get some further instruction. He is quite at fault in his notion of the true style, if we may draw any inference from the manner in which the pupils generally perform it.

The Motet possesses a good deal of merit, but has been much over-rated. The Quartet Concertante was exceedingly well played: we wish it were possible truly to say that ‘Oh Stelle!’ was as well sung.

SOCIETA ARMONICA.

THE illness of a gentleman on whom we relied for some account of these concerts, has prevented our bestowing that attention on them which, we learn from many quarters, they have merited. We have heard of the performance of Beethoven’s Mass in C, which had never before been given in this country with full orchestral accompaniments, and applaud the spirit that prompted its introduction. Though according to all accounts it might have been executed in a better manner, the attempt is praiseworthy, and perseverance leads to perfection. The subscription, it must be considered, is low, and does not afford the managers the means of obtaining all the assistance which otherwise they would, we are disposed to believe, be willing to procure.

[Pg 109]

AN OFFICIAL NOTE.

THE Editor of the Harmonicon presents his compliments to the Editor of La Revue Musicale, and is happy to find that anything contained in an English publication has been thought worthy of being transferred to the pages of a French one.

Though the Editor of La Revue Musicale manifestly entertains no great partiality for the British nation, yet that good-breeding so common to all his countrymen, and of which he doubtless partakes in an eminent degree, would certainly have prompted him to acknowledge from what source he obtained the air by Keiser, inserted in his work last March, had he been aware of the quarter whence it proceeded; the Editor of the Harmonicon, therefore, fully persuaded that the Editor of La Revue Musicale will feel most happy in being correctly informed on the subject, has the honour to acquaint him, that the composition in question was published—for the first time since the year 1701, it is supposed—in the Harmonicon for February last; that the German copy afforded only a melody and base, consequently that the accompaniment, good, or bad, is attributable to the Editor of the Harmonicon only; and that the English words set to it are not a translation from the German, nor do they even imitate the original, but were selected because the general sentiment they express is not at variance with the music, and because the metre very exactly suits the notes.

The Editor of La Revue Musicale, in having caused the English verses of Miss Seward to be translated into French, has done her great honour, though he has not mentioned her name; and has conferred a no less flattering distinction on the Editor of the Harmonicon in adopting his accompaniment, and by giving it the additional advantage of appearing to have proceeded from the able pen of the learned French Editor.

The Editor of the Harmonicon has in his pages often availed himself of the labours of the Editor of La Revue Musicale, and never intentionally failed to acknowledge his obligations. He now begs the Editor of the French Review to accept his thanks generally, together with his assurances of high consideration.

EXTRACTS FROM THE DIARY OF A DILETTANTE.

3d (of March). I find the following sensible critical remarks among my papers; they were copied from a weekly work (the Court Magazine, I think) some months ago, and have since escaped my notice. The opinions are worthy of being widely extended.

‘Melody is of two kinds; one which is affected by the prevailing taste or fashion, and is made up of the particular graces and embellishments of the day; and the other, broad, flowing, majestic, bearing the stamp of no particular period, and without ornament; but composed principally of long notes, upon which the sentiment is encrusted and cannot be mistaken—adorned with all the vigour and effect of striking and appropriate harmony and instrumentation. The latter is the real classic melody: classic, because it is imperishable, as being the noble and unsophisticated expression of never-varying truth. It is like those pictures of the old masters which will be relished in all ages, because they represent that which must be understood by all generations of men. Handel, the immortal Handel, whose works will never perish, produced much of the first kind of melody, which is now overlooked and forgotten: but his rich and pure streams of the second kind flow freely, to delight and refresh with their beauties the present generation, as they will the remotest generations to come. Cimarosa has very little of the first kind; Mozart and Beethoven none; Meyerbeer a great deal in his Italian operas, but none in his German and French. All these masters have written for posterity.’

10th (of March). The Halifax Guardian states that ‘the fifty-third performance of the Halifax Quarterly Choral Society took place, in the Old Assembly Room, Talbot Inn, on Tuesday evening last. The music consisted of a selection from The Seasons of Haydn, and the whole of Beethoven’s Mount of Olives. There was a full attendance of performers, vocal and instrumental; the orchestra was led by Mr. White of Leeds, under whose able guidance the above sublime and beautiful compositions were performed with a degree of precision and spirit which is frequently wanting in concerts of much higher pretensions. Miss Milnes, the principal soprano, has not only a beautiful voice, but much execution and a pure taste; and Mr. Carter, the principal tenor, is also entitled to very high praise. The style and expression with which he sang the deeply pathetic recitative and air that open The Mount of Olives, were admirable. The other solo parts were exceedingly well performed; and we only regret that our limits do not allow us, on the present occasion, to do the singers justice. The choruses were given with great correctness, and the ensemble was excellent: the points were taken up with a decision that showed how much at home the singers were in their parts. The effect, in particular, of the grand choral fugue, which concludes The Mount of Olives, was magnificent. It is very gratifying to see this society so spiritedly conducted. It is of such standing that it may be considered in the vigour of manhood. May it be long before it shall betray any of the infirmities of old age!’

19th (of March). It has just been determined, by the most influential gentlemen of Liverpool, to have a grand musical festival in that town early in October. Let us hope that this will encourage other enterprises of the kind[Pg 110] and raise the drooping spirits of our orchestral performers, whose time lay unprofitably on their hands during the whole of the last summer and autumn.

April 6th. One of those paragraphs which the dealer in small wares furnishes to the ‘Morning Chronicle,’ tells us, this day, that ‘Poor Giovanni, many years stage manager at the Italian Opera-House, is, we regret to hear, in the work-house. He was, in his position at the theatre, a man of modest, unassuming manners, and a great favourite behind the scenes. It is to be lamented that foreigners, who are so liberally paid by the public for the exertion of their talents in the London theatres, do not institute a fund for the support of their indigent brethren.’ Now true as it may be that Signor di Giovanni has been obliged to seek such a refuge, it was not at all necessary to add a pang to his misery by publishing it to all the world. Had the writer recommended a subscription to be opened for the relief of this unfortunate servant of the fashionable portion of the public, he might have done some good; none could arise from a mere gossiping paragraph. Di Giovanni was not at any time stage-manager; he never arrived at any higher office than that of deputy. Other parts of the article are not less incorrect. As to a fund, it was once begun, and a per centage on the salaries of the performers raised something to commence with. This was never heard of after the retreat of Mr. Waters to Calais.

10th. In an account of the Rev. Robert Hall, by Olinthus Gregory, recently published, is the following anecdote, or, indeed, two-fold anecdote, which adds further testimony to the effect produced by the music in Westminster Abbey at the far-famed Commemoration:—

‘Robert Hall,’ it is stated, ‘was at the Commemoration of Handel in 1784, and present at that extraordinary scene when George III. stood up at one part of the performance with tears in his eyes.’ Nothing ever affected him more strongly; ‘It seemed,’ he said, ‘like a great act of national assent to the fundamental truths of religion.’

It was at one of the grand performances in the same venerable building, a few years after, that Haydn was observed sitting in a corner under a side gallery, weeping like a child, and he declared that he had never before been so powerfully affected by music.

15th. The influences of the Influenza were strikingly evinced at the Philharmonic Concert this evening. More than a third of the subscribers were absent; and of those present, one half at least, judging from the symptoms they exhibited, would have been better at home. The orchestra, too, lost some of its best performers.

15th. At the rehearsal of the Ancient Concert this morning, Signor Rubini, keeping his seat, and with his hat on, began to sing an aria. Lord Burghersh, the director, hinted that it was usual to treat so many subscribing auditors as were present with rather more respect. The Signor then contrived to rise; but a gentle intimation from the same quarter, that the Signor would be heard to greater advantage without his hat, received no attention whatever. Now this really should not be wondered at in a country where every thing has a money value. Signor Rubini is making 6000l. or 7000l. per annum by his engagements, to which we sensible English largely contribute. Such an income is superior to that of most baronets, nay, of many lords; Signor R.’s rank here, consequently, is equal or superior to theirs, according to the money difference; ergo he has a right, in his Britannic Majesty’s dominions, where wealth is every thing, to rehearse seated, and with his beaver firmly fixed on a head from which issues a voice that commands (O mores!) a revenue which many an English nobleman, many a German prince, will hear of with astonishment and envy.

16th. The daily press is beginning to manifest some reasonable dissatisfaction at the sordid propensities of the Baron of the Single-string. Had it decried his absurdities (absurdities, however, well calculated for the meridian of London) two years ago, it might have prevented his proving ungrateful, and caused a great deal of money to reach the pockets of English performers, who wanted it, instead of flowing into the coffers of a stranger who had no real occasion for it, and did not deserve one-tenth of what he received. The Globe of this evening tells us that ‘the munificent support which M. Paganini met with in London does not appear to have softened his heart towards English artists. He was applied to a short time since to lend the aid of his talents, in union with all the French and Italian performers of eminence in Paris, to support a benefit advertised by Miss Smithson, in the hope of retrieving some of the losses arising from the failure of her speculation there, and her unfortunate accident, which still confines her to her bed. He refused, on the plea of ill-health. This was very well. The benefit was comparatively a failure, being only sufficient to pay one-fifth of the debts due by Miss Smithson to the English actors, who have been in a state little short of starvation, and are even unable to return to England. Another benefit, in which Mars, Duchesnois, and all the other artists came forward in the handsomest manner, is announced for to-morrow. Paganini, who is well enough to play to-morrow night at the Opera [the French Opera] for himself, has been again applied to, and now refuses flatly, saying, that the failure of Miss Smithson’s speculation is nothing to him. This should not be forgotten when he re-visits London.’

But it will be forgotten: the English public have lost those patriotic feelings which once distinguished them, in so far as relates to foreign performers. The Signor, however, will not reap another rich harvest here, he may be assured. Though some futile attempt will be made to deny the truth of the foregoing statement, it will be made in vain; the rage is over; our eyes as well as our ears are now opened; the pretended enthusiasts—for affectation has had much to do with the matter—will no longer be able to cry up the Witches’ Dance, the Friars’ Hymn, &c. as prodigies of art; they will not be listened to if they again endeavour to deafen us with the wonders of sounds almost inaudible, and nearly, if not quite, inappreciable: we are grown a little wiser, and have found out, that in proportion as two legs to a body are preferable to half the number, so four strings to a fiddle are better than one.

22d. In the Revue Musicale, M. Fétis lately, with much apparent justice, severely criticised a new Italian opera by a Sig. Ricci, called Chiara di Rosemberg: he even proceeded so far as to say, that music has declined in Italy, and that there is little hope of its revival in a country where such a work as Ricci’s could meet with success.[Pg 111] This has brought upon him the vengeance of the editor of L’ Eco, an Italian literary journal published at Milan, who not very temperately exclaims: ‘It needed all the effrontery that is often met with in the French journals, to deny superiority in an art to a country which claims as its own a Rossini, a Bellini, a Mercadante, a Pacini, a Donizzetti, a Ricci, and many other composers; to a country which has a right to triumph in a Pasta, a Tosi, a Rubini, a Donzelli, a Lablache, a Tamburini, &c. Nothing, in truth, but the most stupid ignorance or the blackest malignity could assert of such a country of artists, that “the decline of music in Italy is complete.”’ M. Fétis has well answered the attack, and shown that the critic who can place Bellini, Mercadante, &c., by the side of Rossini—who can put Pasta on a level with Tosi, must be wholly incapable of discussing a question which requires some knowledge of music, and some power of judging between good and bad performers. The Milan editor may rave as he will, but he may be assured, that M. Fétis speaks the opinion of every real and unbiassed critic.

FOREIGN MUSICAL REPORT.

VIENNA.

THE Josephstädter Theater recently produced Donizetti’s Anna Bolena with little success; the Leopoldstädter Theater, however, was more fortunate in the production of a new opera, Die Liebe auf der Alm (Love on the Alm), the numerous performances of which were received with much applause. The music, by Riotti, is very melodious.

The concerts have been numerous; that of M. Benesch was very successful. He performed a concerto of his own composition, and Madame Benesch also distinguished herself, in a concerto of Kalkbrenner’s, as a finished pianiste. A new symphony by M. Joachim Hoffman, a composition of great merit, was performed at that gentleman’s concert. A concert has also been given by the Koutski family. Anton, the pianist, infused much expression into his play, which is more remarkable for solidity than brilliancy. Carl, the violinist, excited astonishment by a spirited performance, and the singer, Eugenie, delighted the audience with an agreeable, well cultivated voice, and very chaste style. Demoiselle Fanny Sallamon has also given a concert, at which her exquisite performances on the piano-forte were, as usual, enthusiastically applauded. Besides the above, there have been four very excellent concerts given by the Society of Musicians.

BERLIN.

Königstadt Theater. On the 4th February Demoiselle Caroline Schechner, a sister of the celebrated singer of the same name, made her debut here as Emmeline in Die Schweizerfamilie. Her voice is clear and sweet, she sings with much taste and expression, and altogether gives great promise of future excellence. On the 26th, a new opera, Melusina, was brought out under the direction of the composer, Conradin Kreutzer. The music is very pleasing, being light and flowing.

M. Felix Mendelssohn has given two very brilliant concerts, particularly the last, which were fully attended. In these was performed a Symphony by Louis Berger, full of fine thoughts, clear in style, and very original. M. Mendelssohn played a capriccio of his own, a concerto in D minor of Sebastian Bach, and a sonata in C sharp minor by Beethoven. He is now on his road to London.

A grand concert has been given by M. Hubert Ries, consisting solely of classical compositions, which was well attended. He played a new violin concerto by Spohr, with uncommon precision, grandeur, and depth of feeling, and some compositions of Beethoven with M. Felix Mendelssohn and M. Ganz. Three concerts have been given by the Dutch virtuosi, MM. Brugt and Franco Mendez, and Madame Schmidt. The former is a distinguished singer, with a sweet, though not particularly strong voice, and great powers of execution. M. Mendez played some variations on the violoncello with neatness and good taste, but his tone on the lower notes is thin, and Madame Schmidt displayed more flexibility of voice than taste.

On the 26th February the Vocal Academy performed the Passion Music of St. John the Evangelist.

M. Möser’s second series of concerts has commenced. The first concert introduced a well conceived overture by Taubert, and the second, the overture to King Stephen, by Beethoven.

At the last meeting of this season, which was to celebrate the anniversary of Beethoven’s death, we heard for the first time his Fest-Ouvertüre, ‘Zur Weihe des Hauses,’ a masterpiece in the fugue style, or rather an ancient theme, full of original ideas, such as could only occur to Beethoven. His piano-forte concerto in E flat major was performed by a Scotch virtuoso, Mr. R. Müller, who has lately been playing with great success at the courts of Denmark and Sweden. In his style, Mr. Müller distinguishes himself more by his conception and delivery of the intrinsic beauties of the composition, than by imitation of the popular pianists of the day. He shows the highest degree of his ability in the sonatas of Beethoven, in which the most difficult passages, when played by him, appear not as passages merely, but real musical ideas. If we were allowed to express a wish, it would be that Mr. Müller should perform on a solid English instrument to which he has been accustomed, and which under his finger would truly express all the delicate degrees of light and shade. Mr. Müller, as far as we remember, is the first pianist of Great Britain who has performed publicly on the continent; and it gives us the more pleasure to admire in him the talents of one of Old England’s artists, because our own German artists have always found in that country the most flattering reception.

MUNICH.

The Philharmonic Society, founded here by M. Schönche, is going on flourishingly. It was established for the education of pupils in every branch of the art, who have invariably had artists of eminence to look up to as models; in the list of these have recently appeared the names of M. and Madame Bohrer, Bärmann, Dusshek, &c.

M. Küstner is expected to be appointed manager of the Royal Court Theatre, and Baron Von Poissl director of the court music. M. Mentor, the violoncellist, has been recalled from Hechingen to Munich.

LEIPZIG.

The principal novelties produced at the subscription concerts were, an overture by M. Hartknoch, of original conception, and clever in point of instrumentation, and a symphony by Richard Wagner, scarcely twenty years of age, which was much and deservedly applauded. The solo players, M. Maurer, from Hanover, and his son, on the violin; M. Gros, on the violoncello; Demoiselle Clara Wieck, on the piano-forte; M. Kressner, on the flute; and M. Rückner on the oboe, delighted the audiences with their performances on their respective instruments. Nor were the efforts of the singers less attractive. Demoiselle H. Grabau’s singing was exquisite, and Demoiselle Livia Gerhard appeared to have improved, not only in execution, but also in the tone of her voice. The male singers were MM. Otto, Pögner, and Bode.

DRESDEN.

A new opera seria, by Baron Boromäus Von Miltetz, is expected to be produced here shortly, under the title of Saul King in Israel. It is generally supposed that the Baron will be appointed director-general of the theatre and the chapel.

FRANKFORT.

The repertoire of this theatre has been considerably enriched of late. The principal new productions, besides Der Templer und die Jüdin, which particularly delighted the Jews, have been Die Fremde (La Straniera), of Bellini, Der Vampyr, of Marschner, and Zampa, of Herold. Robert de Diable too has been given; but not by the theatrical direction. Kapellmeister Guhr produced it at his concert, and it was not much admired.

The Cecilian Society, under the able direction of M. Schelble, has recently given the first of four concerts for the season, at which the overture and introduction to Eliza, by Cherubini, and the overture to Idomeneo, were played by a considerably augmented and improved orchestra; and it redounds highly to the credit of the members of the opera, that they should have assisted the efforts of the Society with their vocal contributions.

Madame Filipowicz has performed here three times on the violin with extraordinary success. Her shake in particular is exquisitely brilliant, and her bowing equally powerful and graceful. After displaying her talents in various other German towns, Madame Filipowicz intends to proceed through France to England.

MANHEIM.

The opera of Valeria, composed by M. Aloys Schmidt, long known as a distinguished pianist, was produced for the first time on the 2d December, under the direction of the composer. It went off most brilliantly; every piece from the overture to the very conclusion, being received with bursts of applause. After the fall of the curtain, M. Schmidt was enthusiastically called forward. Its reception, when performed again on the 16th December, was no less gratifying.

WÜRTZBURG.

Joseph Dietz, aged fourteen, a violin player, and pupil of Professor Fröhlich, has been well received at a grand vocal and instrumental concert here. Among other concertos excellently performed, he played Rode’s last concerto, No. 12, with great execution, neatness, and purity of tone.

WEIMAR.

The opera of Robert der Teufel was given here for the first time on the 6th December. On the first performance, the house was crowded; on the third, nearly empty; the singers, however, did their utmost to support the opera, and the orchestra was very effective.

HAMBURGH.

The same opera, Robert der Teufel, was produced here for the first time on the 20th December, and its reception was enthusiastic. The finale of each act, indeed almost every piece in the opera, called forth the warmest applause. Full justice was done to the composition by all the singers.

Some very interesting concerts have lately been given here, at which M. W. P. de C. Vrugt, from Amsterdam, and M. Lafont, particularly distinguished themselves. The former sang, for the first time, at the concert of M. Leopold Lindenau, a violoncello player of great ability. His style is chaste, and his shake masterly; and he sings chromatic passages in ascent and descent with delicacy and pureness of intonation. His voice, which is of extensive compass, is rich and mellow, particularly in the upper notes. The delightful performances of M. Lafont were received with the applause which they merited.

MERSEBURG.

On the 15th February, M. Amme gave a concert here. Among the selection were the overtures to Die Felsenmühle by Reissiger, and to Die Stumme; a concertante by Iwan Müller for two clarionets, played by MM. Amme and Kunze with sweetness and expression; a concertino by Meyer, for the basset horn, by M. Queiser of Leipzig; a duet for violin and violoncello by MM. Ullrich and Grabau; and a duet by Reichel for two trumpets by M. Queiser and a pupil of his, worthy of such a master.

HEIDELBERG.

M. Schmidt, of Darmstadt, professor of the violin, gave a concert on the 12th December in the saloon of the Museum, and was received with the encouragement to which his talents justly entitled him. The selection of the pieces was as judicious as their performance was meritorious.

DÜSSELDORF.

A musical society, consisting of 500 effective members, flourishing here for some years, has been gradually falling into decline, the management having come into the hands of some amateurs not possessed of sufficient musical knowledge to conduct it. The fragments of this society now consist of a very few lovers of the art; and they have applied to M. Anton Schindler, to undertake the task of restoring it, if possible, to its former eminence.

PESTH.

At a most respectable house at Pesth, where a great deal of music is played, there is a dog, who, unlike his brother dogs, has a great fancy for music. But the most singular part of the story is, that this animal delights only in listening to the performance of Mozart’s, Haydn’s, Weber’s, or Spohr’s music. If such a piece is played, he lays his head upon his two fore paws, listens attentively, and now and then suffers a sigh of emotion to escape him. But when he hears a composition by Rossini, Auber, Herold, &c., he[Pg 113] whines and howls most pitifully, as any other dog would on hearing music.—From the Allgemeiner Musikalischer Anzeiger.

GREIFSWALD.

M. Amadeus Abel, scarcely sixteen years old, a pupil of Spohr, lately gave a concert here, and performed a concerto of Spohr’s, and variations of Mayseder’s, with great applause; he also played on the piano-forte, a fantasia of Kalliwoda without accompaniments, with great execution and expression.

SCHWAZ.

On St. Cecilia’s day, the oratorio of Paradise Lost, by Frederick Schneider, was given for the benefit of the poor of this place, in a manner highly creditable to all connected with the performance.

TRIESTE.

The son of the singer Bonoldi, a young composer brought up in the Conservatorio at Milan, wrote the opera with which the Carnival Season was opened in this town. It is his coup d’essai, and called Il Mauro di Calisto Bassi. On the first night the young composer was unfortunate. Nobody knew his part except Bonoldi, the father; and he was so overcome by interest for his son, that he lost his voice and was obliged to omit much. In fact, the theatre was closed two nights; but after that Bonoldi recovered his powers, the opera was reproduced with applause, and the maestro and singers called forward at the close of the performance.

NEW YORK.

The second night of Il Pirata, Bellini’s serious opera, found us at the Richmond-hill theatre. The first representation of all musical pieces we consider as little more than a last rehearsal; for the singers are generally nervous, and the band over cautious. Critics ought to take such a state of things into consideration, and prefer the second night for the exercise of their vocation. In a country as young in music as America, it may be a matter of doubt whether the omission of some of the earlier authors be wise on the part of the manager; and whether, in leaping over the heads of Cimarosa, Mozart, and Rossini, and fixing upon Mercadante and Bellini, he does not resemble a school-master placing Sallust and Terence in the hands of a boy who has not completed Cæsar and Cornelius Nepos; or rather, are we not likely to fall into the error of a sapient critic who discovered, when he saw Kean, that he was an imitator of Booth?—Now there are many juvenile amateurs in this city, who, to our knowledge, have never heard La Gazza Ladra; but who have heard Elise e Claudio; and unless they pay good attention to chronology, they may make a discovery, that Rossini has borrowed numerous passages from Mercadante, because one of those authors decidedly has borrowed from the other. Another observation we shall address to the direttore of the concern: instead of learned and dry operas, which afford delight to professional persons only, let him diligently seek works with lively melodious music, interesting and clear plots, and fine scenery. He has in the public but an infant to nurse, and it will take honey in preference to olives. Allowing that the inhabitants of New York are as fond of music as those of London, which we fully believe, let it be remembered that very few of the higher classes of society in the latter city would be tied down to sit night after night in public boxes, to hear the same opera throughout, overture and all. By no means would they submit to it; they enjoy the luxury of private boxes which are so many boudoirs, in which society is received: nor do we know any more agreeable lounge than the Italian Opera House in London, where individuals, who have a taste for music without understanding it as a science, can drop in at any particular hour for the sake of hearing a particular morceau by Pasta, Sontag, Malibran, or any other star; and can, either previous to its commencement or after its performance, while away the time in conversation with friends, without disturbing those professionals and amateurs who are riveted to every note. This cannot take place in public boxes. There is, likewise, the addition of a ballet in London; and a number of persons, particularly male bipeds, find it the sole attraction. We think that the above is sufficient cause for advising the management of the Italian opera, (in the absence of ballet and converzatione,) to render their performance as pleasing and light as possible to their subscribers; for, be it remembered, that the Italians themselves not only talk and see dancers caper at their opera houses, but actually sup in their boxes; and, when it is considered that they can understand every word that is sung, and feel the sentiment as well as hear the harmony and melody of the music, surely some little compassion ought to be taken on Brother Jonathan, who drinks in sweet sounds, and has to guess at their meaning equally with Brother Bull.

The overture to this opera is beautiful and effective in a high degree. It commences with a spirited, dashing movement for a few bars, something after the style of Auber’s Masaniello; it is then followed by a more subdued movement, in which the basses are pizzicati; and here we remark that the only fault we could find with the overture was the want of bass. We once stated that a double bass and violoncello were not sufficient, and the increase of the band in other respects causes this fault to become more apparent; ergo, the pizzicato movement appeared feeble. The quick movement is a bold allegro, leading away in a minor mood, well worked up throughout. Altogether, the overture is original; and, to our thinking, the finest composition this band has yet performed. The orchestra contains, at present, twenty-six musicians; and we do not hesitate to state, that is now as good a band as was ever heard in America; and, if another double bass and violoncello are added, as we hear is in contemplation, it would be a fair orchestra in any part of Europe. The opening symphony and chorus, Ciel, qual procella orribile, during a storm and shipwreck, at once assured us that we were under the influence of a great and original master; and when we reflected that he was but twenty-four years old when the opera was composed, our admiration increased. Throughout there is a firm and leading bass, which progresses according to the old master’s style, more than we are accustomed to hear in modern compositions. The instrumentation is splendid, and the management of the wind instruments, particularly, reminds us strongly of Weber. Indeed we have the German school continually before us. Mr. Montresor has a part better suited to his voice than any we have yet heard him in. His first aria, Nel furor delle tempeste, was admirably led by a clarionet solo. Monsieur Guilleaud is an artist, and Mr. Montresor sang the aria well. We adhere to our original opinion, that he is the best instructed singer in the company. We must be excused from using the jargon now in fashion among the press. We cannot see why a company of Italians are to be called a troupe; nor why the ladies and gentlemen are to act roles. There is mystification enough to the generality of readers in the technicalities we are[Pg 114] obliged to use, and which we address to well read amateurs and professional men alone, without hunting for French words to put in the place of plain English. The part of Imogene was acted beautifully by Pedrotti. Her singing was exceedingly good. Her voice is an organ of great power and good quality, and her forte is expression. Her scena and duetto with Fornasari were very finished. Her mad scena, in the last act, was highly creditable to her. Indeed we have very little fault to find. If we must point out any defect, it would be occasionally a clumsiness of execution, and a failure in the attempt at the chromatic scale; but who can do it? For one fault she has twenty beauties, particularly in her acting; and the use of her arms and hands is most easy and graceful. Fornasari is certainly a very good looking man, with a very fine voice; but there is a tremour about it continually, and his progression from note to note is imperfect. In certain passages we were delighted with him, in others greatly disappointed. In his principal song, and in several leading passages in the duet with Imogene, we really were at a loss to know what he intended to convey to the audience. He made a curious sound in his throat, in which two notes only were perceptible. It could not have been intended for a shake, we are tolerably sure; and we set it down as being meant for an active passage of some sort, in which he wished to show his agilità; but vox faucibus hæsit. This gentleman’s education as a vocalist has undoubtedly been neglected; but nature has been highly bountiful to him. The costume was well preserved. Fornasari’s second dress was a picture. The female chorus was weak, the male chorus good, but not correct. The finale to the first act is a composition of very superior merit.

The scenery is excellent. The artist’s forte, we think, is architectural design; and we have noticed that Italian scene-painters generally excel in that department. This is an opera which will afford the professor profitable amusement, and the well-informed amateur delight; but we have an unpleasant, lurking suspicion, that it savours more of the olive than the honey; and, therefore, may not be so readily swallowed as some other operas; at least we fear that the ‘most respectable public,’ as the manager terms them, will prove our suspicion just, and we are sure that they ought not to do so. Mr. Lorenzo Daponte has got a very curious flourish in the books of the opera, in which he says: ‘we sigh no more for Malibran!’ and an enormous puff for the Italian artists in general, making some comparisons which had been better let alone. He says that the company procured by him shall merit the gratitude of the public; that we must all learn Italian without delay; and that he has got a gentleman in the person of one Dr. Montresor, who will assist him in teaching us. Very well, if it must be so, anything to oblige him, and viva la musica! We have omitted to mention a well imagined trio between Pedrotti, Montresor, and Fornasari, which we believe to be composed by Mr. Bagioli, the conductor. It does him great credit, and gives us a high opinion of his musical talents. There is scarcely a more effective piece in the opera.

On Thursday, Miss Hughes took her benefit, and a new opera called Nadir and Zuleika was produced; the music partly selected, partly composed by Mr. Horn. Of course, the piece is of an eastern character. The music is light, pretty, and well suited to the sentiment. The plot is rather extravagant; turning upon no less than the opium day-dream of Nadir, a young gentleman who has expressed a wish to become acquainted with the lovely houris, or black-eyed beauties of Mahomet’s heaven; and this being overheard by Zuleika, a young lady who imagines that her charms are sufficient to ensure him a terrestrial paradise, she resents his conduct by dosing him and his servant with opium; and then gets up a scene during his bewilderment, which causes him to believe, that he really has thrown off ‘this mortal coil,’ and is in possession of his wish. A number of droll circumstances and situations arise, which we have not space to dwell on: suffice it to say, that it is a lively operetta of the Abon Hassan species; and, like that piece, has an admirable part for Placie, which he makes the most of; indeed, he is extremely droll, and kept the house in constant laughter. The overture is composed by Fétis, a person who stands high as a critic in Paris, and editor of a musical journal. Mr. Horn has likewise used the chorus Tacete non temete, by Mercadante, as found in his opera Le Nonne de Gamache. It is also introduced in Elise e Claudio. To this he has added a second subject skilfully, and, we think, has increased its effect. A ballad, founded on a Swiss air, sung by Miss Hughes, is a charming little gem; and was executed by her extremely well, and deservingly encored. She had likewise a bravura, with a corno and clarinette accompaniment. The former instrument was clumsily managed, the latter had not enough to do; but Herwig never fails in his part; and what he had to play was perfect. We do not admire this bravura; the divisions are common-place, and such as we have heard five hundred times with all the clap-traps and gallery-delights commonly used; but Horn has instrumented the song with his usual ability. Jones has two songs, both good; the last a very beautiful air, too chaste perhaps to please the multitude; but it comes in a bad situation, directly after the former noisy song. Another place should be found, or dialogue introduced between the two. The choruses are pleasing, and they sang, particularly the ladies, admirably. Richings sustained the character of Vivienne, a French officer brought into the east—we really forget for what purpose. He acted naturally, and there was nothing in the concerted music beyond his capability. After the opera, the excellent piece of ‘Ways and Means’ was performed; and between the acts the band played out of the book number six, which the house immediately recognized, and hissed most profoundly. Horn’s pretty ballad, the Mermaid’s Cave, followed, sung by Miss Hughes, and accompanied by himself; it was received with its usual éclat. The opera of John of Paris concluded the evening, which was done much more perfectly than before.—(New York Mirror.)

[Pg 115]

THE DRAMA.

KING’s THEATRE.

OF the Italian Opera we have literally nothing to report, except that, up to very nearly the end of April, it has been in a state of wretchedness never equalled in our time. The present month, May, is to give us Mesdames PASTA, CINTI, Signors RUBINI, TAMBURINI, and ZUCHELLI,—but will any operas be ready for them? will the new operas announced be worthy of this theatre? And, let it not be forgotten, that about two-thirds of the season are over, and that two out of the three hundred guineas paid for each box may be said to have been thrown away, even if the remainder of the season should be worth anything. An attempt has been made to cover the disgrace brought on the Italian stage, by the German opera, which, though far superior to the Italian, is yet very inferior to that of last year. Fidelio has been performed, but Mad. PIRSCHER is not to be named with Mad. DEVRIENT; and as the weight of the opera falls on the female character, the difference between the two cannot be made up by any merit that the others may possess. Of this merit M. BLUM, as Rocco, has his share: he is a good singer and an excellent performer.

On the 18th was produced Zampa, a German opera, by HEROLD, which has been much praised in the foreign journals, and perhaps may excite an interest in those to whom the language is familiar; but musically considered, we find in it very little indeed that can justify the encomiums bestowed on the work abroad. It is a kind of Don Giovanni story, only the statue is of the female gender, and the profligate invites the marble lady, not to a supper, but to a wedding.

An air first heard in the overture, and afterwards sung by Mad. PIRSCHER, the heroine, is effective; as is a trio in the same act. And to the third act M. HUMMEL has written a finale, which very much strengthens the opera, and displays his skill in dramatic composition, though it does not exhibit much originality.

DRURY LANE THEATRE.

Nothing of any importance has been presented here since our last. The Maid of Cashmere continued to be performed till the parties engaged in it were dispersed. Mr. and Mrs. Wood, it seems, are preparing to depart for America. How the stage is to repair her loss we cannot guess. If we are to have only foreigners as first vocal women in our English theatres, her place may be filled certainly; but will the public long endure this? We believe they will, for they are grown apathetic.

The performers themselves, however, ought to be active; they should combine in their own defence, and open an English, a really English, theatre; the Lord Chamberlain would sanction them; and the town might be conciliated, if they would give good operas, demand moderate prices, and endeavour to keep offensive company of all kinds, not only women, but men, as much as possible out of the way.

COVENT GARDEN THEATRE.

The Coiners, an opera of Auber, produced at the latter end of March, we have now heard, and find it altogether unworthy of notice.

ENGLISH OPERA HOUSE, ADELPHI

Mr. Arnold opened this small house on Easter Monday, merely with a view to keeping his company together while his own theatre is rebuilding. A new opera, Philip of Anjou,—founded on a German story, of which a translation appeared some years ago in a collection of Tales by the Misses Corbet,—composed by the Mr. Martin who lately succeeded H. Phillips as Leporello, was performed for the first time with some success. Two or three old favourites have since been brought forward, apparently to the satisfaction of the town, for they have drawn numbers to the theatre; and new things are in preparation, which, we trust, will be ready by the time the blighting east wind leaves us, and takes in its train the universally-prevailing disease.

It is a fact, unparalleled in the modern history of the English stage, that about the middle and towards the end of last month,—the month of April, too, and after Easter—Drury Lane, Covent Garden, the King’s Theatre, and the Haymarket, were all closed for several nights! The illness of many of the performers was the ostensible cause; but we believe that the managers were too happy in being able to avail themselves of this excuse, and closed their doors merely because so few persons presented themselves for admittance.

Rumours are afloat that the two winter theatres are about to be virtually under one management, and that the artists are to be engaged with a condition that they shall perform at either house, as may be required. If they have any spirit, a monopoly of this novel kind may easily be defeated.

[Pg 116]

THE MUSIC OF THE PRESENT NUMBER.

DUSSEK’s works, ingenious, refined, and beautiful as they are, now are rarely heard. Perhaps the two specimens we have in the present Number given of his composition, may make his name known to some of the younger amateurs of the day, who are probably acquainted with no other music than arrangements of Rossini’s operas, a little of Mozart, done into quadrilles, and much of Herz and Czerny.

Handel’s Musette (the word signifies a bag-pipe) is written for an orchestra, but of stringed instruments only. It is one of the lovely compositions of this great master which are only known to the frequenters of the Ancient Concerts.

The Romance of Hummel is from his heroi-comic opera, Mathilde von Guise. We have reprinted it from the original Leipzig edition, but omitted the German words. This is the most popular piece in the opera.

The masterly Madrigal by Wilbye is from the edition published by Mr. Warren, editor of the celebrated collection of Glees, &c. Wilbye, Sir John Hawkins tells us, was ‘a teacher of music, who dwelt in Austin Friars, about the year 1598.’ His compositions are inferior to those of none of his contemporaries, and his madrigal for five voices, ‘Flora gave me fairest flowers,’ has hardly an equal in sweetness of melody, in rich unaffected harmony, and in admirable contrivance of the parts.

The air of Gluck immediately follows, or rather opens out of, the overture to Iphigénie, as an addition to which it is always performed at the Ancient Concerts, arranged for a full band by Mr. Greatorex. This charming melody has very recently been published in a collection (see Harmonicon for March last, page 60,) as a ‘Bohemian air,’ and marked allegretto!

The song by Pelham Humphrey is melodiously plaintive, but the air certainly is not suited to the two cheerful verses, however well adapted to those that complain. Our accompaniment is drawn from inference, as we had only a treble and unfigured base to direct us. However, the composer’s intentions are pretty obvious. Humphrey was born in 1647, and brought up in the King’s Chapel, of which he was admitted a gentleman in 1666, and died in 1674.

Concerning the march and its author, we beg to refer the reader to our Review for the present month.

[Pg 117]

JUNE, 1833.

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF ADRIAN BATTEN, JOHN WELDON, THOMAS TUDWAY, MUS. D., WILLIAM BLAKE, D.D., AND CHARLES KING, M.B.

WE now proceed towards the conclusion of our notices of the most distinguished composers of English cathedral music, down to the end of the last century, which branch of musical biography will be completed in our next Number.

ADRIAN BATTEN was organist of St. Paul’s Cathedral during the reigns of Charles I. and II. He is called by Sir John Hawkins, not in very courteous terms, a ‘singing man,’ and certainly appears on the books as a vicar-choral of the church, for then the duty at the organ was executed by one of that body; and the organist still draws most of his emoluments from his share in the property belonging to the vicars-choral. The name of this composer is even now well known in all our choirs, from his short full anthem, ‘Deliver us, O Lord,’ which has continued in use up to the present day. Batten was, says Burney, ‘merely a good harmonist of the old school, without adding any thing to the common stock of ideas in melody or modulation with which the art was furnished long before he was born. Nor did he correct any of the errors in accent with which former times abounded.’ It is, however, just to remark, that his anthem, ‘Hear my prayer,’ for five voices, is, in point of construction and effect, equal to most of the compositions of his time. He undoubtedly exhibited no great talent, and owes the transmission of his name more to the convenient brevity of the above-mentioned anthem, than to his musical genius.

JOHN WELDON, born at Chichester, received his first musical instructions from John Walter, organist of Eton College, and afterwards became a disciple of Purcell. He was at an early age chosen organist of New College, Oxford. In 1701, he was appointed gentleman-extraordinary of the Royal Chapel; in 1708 he succeeded Dr. Blow, as organist thereof; and seven years after, upon a second composer being added to the establishment, he was named to that situation. He was a great pluralist; for while he held all these offices, he was also organist of St. Bride’s; and George I. having presented the parish of St Martin in the Fields with an organ, Mr. Weldon, perhaps in compliment to the king, Hawkins adds, was elected organist.[54]

Weldon’s compositions were chiefly confined to the service of the church; but he assisted in setting Congreve’s masque, The Judgment of Paris, to music, in which is the air ‘Let ambition fire thy mind,’ a lovely melody, and still as fresh as if the production of the present century. This was introduced by Arne in Love in a Village, and is known to all as ‘Hope, thou nurse of young Desire.’ Some of his songs are to be found in the Mercurius Musicus, and other collections. Among these are ‘From grave lessons and restraint,’ a very popular air, and as such remembered in Sir John Hawkins’s time, who has reprinted it in his fifth volume; and it would even now be occasionally sung by lovers of natural melody, but that the words partake of that pruriency which does not tell well for ‘the wisdom of our ancestors.’

The great and deserved fame of this composer is built on his anthems, ‘In thee, O Lord,’ and ‘Hear my crying,’ of which Hawkins very justly observes, ‘it is difficult to say whether the melody or the harmony of each be its greatest excellence.’ Dr. Burney speaks very slightingly of Weldon’s powers; and it seems to us that on this subject he was either prejudiced, or imperfectly acquainted with the works he criticised.

THOMAS TUDWAY, Doctor in Music, was educated under Dr. Blow, with Turner and Purcell. Soon after quitting the Chapel Royal he was admitted into the choir at Windsor, as a tenor singer. Like his fellow-disciples, he endeavoured to distinguish himself early as a composer, and inserted in the collection of church music, which he selected and transcribed for Lord Harley, an anthem composed by himself in 1675, when he was only nineteen, with six more of his early productions for the church, of which, Dr. Burney tells us, the counterpoint is but ordinary and clumsy.

In 1681 he was admitted to the degree of Bachelor in Music, at Cambridge; and in 1705, when Queen Anne visited that place, he produced an anthem, ‘Thou, O God, hast heard my vows,’ which was performed as an exercise for a doctor’s degree. He then was appointed public professor of music in that university. As an acknowledgment for other anthems composed for the use of Queen Anne, he was appointed her organist and composer-extraordinary.

In the latter part of Dr. Tudway’s life he resided chiefly in London, and was much patronized by the Oxford family. The valuable scores of English church music, in six thick quarto volumes, now in the British Museum, and forming part of the Harleian Collection, (No. 7337,) were collected and transcribed by himself at this time. During the same period he was in the habit of meeting Prior, Sir James Thornhill, Christian the engraver, and other eminent characters, at Lord Oxford’s, once a week; and Sir James drew all their portraits, among which is Tudway playing on the harpsichord. Prior wrote humorous verses under these drawings, which were in the possession of Mr. West, formerly President of the Royal Society. There is also a picture of Dr. Tudway in the Music-school at Oxford, a present from Dr. Rawlinson. ‘At Cambridge,’ Burney rather sarcastically remarks, ‘he was longer remembered as an inveterate punster than as a great musician.’[55] His[Pg 118] intimacy with Purcell furnished him with the means of forming an accurate judgment both of the character and talents of that great composer, of which he thus speaks in a letter addressed to his son:—‘I knew him perfectly well: he had a most commendable ambition of exceeding every one of his time, and succeeded without contradiction, there being none in England, nor anywhere else I know of, that could come in competition with him for compositions of all kinds,’ &c.

WILLIAM BLAKE, Doctor in Divinity, was prebendary of Salisbury, and rector of St. Thomas’s church in that city. This is all that we can learn of his history. We conjecture that his death must have taken place more than fifty years ago, for in a volume of anthems published about the year 1780, he is mentioned as ‘late prebendary,’ &c. Burney does not speak of him; his name therefore, of course, does not occur in Hawkins; and we do not meet with it in the new edition of Wood’s Athen. Oxon., or in the Biographical Dictionary. But though he is thus unnoticed, no anthem is more generally known and admired than his ‘I have set God always before me,’ which, for beauty of melody, elegance in construction, and correctness in setting, is without a superior. It has been contemned by those whose beau ideal of excellence consists in canons and fugues, but long-continued public approbation is a sure test of merit, and this the composition in question has enjoyed, till the criticism of pedants is nearly if not quite silenced.

CHARLES KING, Mus. B.—Sir John Hawkins, who seems to have been personally acquainted with the subject of this sketch, states that he was bred up in the choir of St. Paul’s, under Dr. Blow, and was at first a supernumerary singer in that cathedral, for the small stipend of 14l. a year. In 1704 he was admitted bachelor in music at Oxford; and on the death of Jeremiah Clark, whose sister was his first wife, was appointed almoner and master of the children of St. Paul’s; and in 1730 became a vicar-choral thereof. He was also organist of St. Bennet Fink, London; and held these several appointments till his death in 1745. ‘With his second wife,’ says Sir John, ‘he had a fortune of seven or eight thousand pounds, left her by the widow of Mr. Primatt, the chemist, who lived in Smithfield, and also in that house at Hampton which is now Mr. Garrick’s. But notwithstanding this accession of wealth, he left his family in but indifferent circumstances. King composed some anthems, and also services to a great number, and thereby gave occasion to Dr. Greene to say,—and indeed he was very fond of saying it, as he thought it a witty sentiment—that “Mr. King was a very serviceable man.” His compositions are uniformly restrained within the bounds of mediocrity; they are well known as being frequently performed, yet no one cares to censure or commend them, and they leave the mind just where they found it. Some who were intimate with him say, he was not void of genius, but averse to study; which character seems to agree with that general indolence and apathy which were visible in his look and behaviour at church, where he seemed to be as little affected by the service as the organ-blower.’ Hawkins was very much enamoured of the works of Blow, and such laborious, dry composers, and appears to have had little if any genuine taste for what is natural in music—for flowing melody and unaffected harmony,—for both of which King’s productions are eminently distinguished. Their best praise is, that they have continued to be performed from the moment they were brought forth to the present time; they are in constant use in every cathedral in England and Ireland: this is an incontestable proof of merit, and silences all criticism. He who can listen to King’s Service in B flat with indifference, may be assured that he has no true taste, though he may be a great admirer of canons recte and retro, and four in one.

A TREATISE ON MELODY.

(From La Revue Musicale.)

A Treatise on Melody, independent of its connection with Harmony; with a Supplement on the Art of accompanying Melody with Harmony where the former is predominant; the whole supported by the best Models of Melody. By ANTHONY REICHA, Member of the Legion of Honour, and Professor of Composition in the Conservatory of Music. Second Edition. Paris, 1832. In two volumes quarto.

IN the preface to this work, M. Reicha expresses himself thus—“During several ages a great number of treatises have been written on harmony, and not one on melody.” Further on he says, “Several authors of merit have indeed spoken in their various works on the subject of melody, but it has only been with reference to its general effects. In Germany, Italy, England, and especially in France, remarks, more or less important, more or less instructive, and often more or less ingenious, have been published on the subject; but what has been the result of these remarks on the musical art? Why have they been of so little profit to it? Because vague reasonings, unsupported by demonstrative proofs, however ingenious, however instructive they may be, having very little internal evidence, are susceptible of being combated and refuted by other reasonings, and consequently remain without effect. It is with music as with geometry; in the one you must prove every point by musical examples, as in the other by geometrical figures. In both you must proceed regularly, from consequence to consequence, and establish a system so solid, that no reasoning whatever can shake it. It is in this point of view that I say nothing has yet been published respecting melody; all the remarks which have been made on the subject united would not furnish matter for a real treatise on melody. I found myself in my researches, therefore, entirely abandoned to myself; and if unwittingly I have, on some occasions, followed the paths of those who have written on melody before me, it will be an immediate emanation of my own system, and in that case it would be unjust to make it a matter of reproach.

“It will be seen in the course of this treatise that the musical period has a real existence. This period has remained a secret even to the present time, no one has[Pg 119] ever proved or defined it indubitably, and even when it has been spoken of, it has been only too much confounded with the phrases and melodic members which are in fact only its decisions. This is the reason it played so unhappy a part in the famous contest between the Piccinists and the Gluckists.

“Musical rhythm, the knowledge of which is so important, not only in music, but in lyric poetry, for similar reasons, has shared the same fate.”

I have extended my quotation to this length, only that the object M. Reicha proposes to achieve by his book, and the circumstances under which he wrote it may be well understood. Not only has he felt the utility of a systematic treatise on melody, but the necessity of it has appeared to him so pressing, that he has persuaded himself there existed no previous work on the subject. Though he is mistaken in this respect, it is a point which should be borne in mind, in order that he may be allowed all the merit of his own ideas.

I have said that M. Reicha is in error when he says, that no work especially on the subject of melody existed before his own. In fact, setting, aside entirely the excellent discourse of Doni “on the Perfection of Melody,” which will be found in the second volume of his musical works; and the work of Nichellman, (published at Ratisbon in 1752,) Die Melodie nach ihren Wesen sowohl als nach ihren Eigenschaften, (Melody considered in its Nature and Qualities,) the first part of the great work of Riepel, published at Frankfort and Leipsic, in 1757, and entitled Anfangsgründe zur Musikalischen Setzkunst, (Elements of Musical Composition,) is a complete treatise on the Melodic Rhythm; and the second part of the same work, Grundregeln zur Tonordnung, (Fundamental rules of the System of Tones, &c.,) contains a very good theory of modulation. The two last volumes of Koch’s Essay towards an Introduction to Composition contain also an excellent treatise on melody, considered in various ways. The second volume treats on the creation and forms of melodic passages, on modulation, on the varieties of times, &c. The third and last volume is divided under the following heads: 1. Of Rhythm. 2. Of the Ornaments of Melody, and the manner of varying their forms. 3. On the Melodic Period.

We have likewise seen that, when writing his book, M. Reicha believed also that there was no especial work on particular rhythm, that is to say, on measure in music and poetry, except the general treatises on melody: he did not know, therefore, the work of Augustan Pisa, entitled Battuta della Musica Dichiarata; nor that of P. Sacchi, Della Divisione del Tempo nella Musica, nell ballo e nella Poesia, of which the work of Bonesi, entitled “A Treatise on Measure, or the Division of Time in Music and Poetry,” is in some respects only a translation. In examining the work of M. Reicha, therefore, we must not lose sight of the consideration that he has not used other books to assist the construction of his own; it is to his own individual ideas and thoughts alone that we are introduced, and we most allow him the merit he deserves on that score, even if he is sometimes mistaken.

Another consideration must also be kept in mind when examining the work of M. Reicha, and that is, that he has intentionally treated of melody alone, laying aside all consideration of its connection with harmony. By fixing these bounds to his work he has, doubtlessly, renounced the analyzing some points of high interest; for in the present state of the art, melody derives as much effect from the harmony which accompanies it as from its own resources; the modulation, the expression of a phrase, often depends upon it; but M. Reicha has said in his preface that he has determined to treat only of the material, or, if the epithet may be permitted, palpable parts of melody; that is to say, of the form of its periods and its phraseology. It is doubtless the same reason which has prevented him from discussing the poetry of melody, or the influence of rhythm on melodic expression. A complete treatise on melody would embrace all these points; but again, it is to be remembered that such a treatise was not what the author proposed to write.

M. Reicha seems to have an idea that, in order to justify the writing a treatise on melody, it is requisite to anticipate and answer beforehand all the objections which would be made against such a book. It is not from forethought that M. Reicha has anticipated these objections; I have frequently heard them from the mouths of professors themselves. There seems a general persuasion that the best melodies are the produce of a blind instinct, a mere uninstructed animal genius, and people are not aware that the best-organized composer, the man most endowed by nature with the faculty of creating, does not at first know what to do with his own ideas; that he is incapable of himself alone conceiving the mechanism of rhythm, that of modulation, or the magic effect of reducing his thoughts to order. All these things are learned: some learn them from books, some from the instructions of a professor, and some again from their own experience. Hence it arises, that the first essays of a man of genius, if he has had no preliminary education, are as defective in melodic invention as in any other point. The only difference between the man of genius and the ordinary musician is, that in the productions of the former a certain air of novelty and vigour is generally to be detected rising above the faults with which it is surrounded, and giving promise of what the writer will be when he has acquired experience. The requisites indispensable to melody are symmetry in the rhythm of the phrases, symmetry in the number of bars, and regularity of modulation, that is, an easy and pleasant arrangement in the succession of the notes; these things are first learned, then become habitual, and, finally, present themselves without our having the labour of thinking of them.

It is erroneous to suppose that there are so many obstacles as some conceive, in the way of a spontaneous production of ideas, for rhythm, number, and modulation are faculties so inseparable from a well-instructed musician, that he obeys them as by instinct, without ever remarking it, while he is solely occupied by the graceful, energetic, gay, or passionate character with which he wishes to invest his melody. How many other more real obstacles is the composer obliged to combat with and surmount in the arrangement of his ideas! If he writes to words in the dramatic style, the arrangement of the verse, the prosody, the rapidity of the action, and many other difficulties, restrain him much more; yet the man of genius always ends with triumph.

Composers themselves cannot understand by what mysterious agency they are endowed thus with the faculty of invention, the power of keeping up their warmth of feeling and their enthusiasm; of investing themselves with a passion, in the midst of no many obstacles; of retaining their independent power of choosing subjects, and working upon them with equal dexterity, as if there were nothing in the way. I have heard persons who disapprove of writing on melody, say, that supposing a good work could be produced on such a subject, no one is competent[Pg 120] to the task but a composer celebrated himself for his happy invention of melodies, such as Mozart or Rossini. This appears to me to be a manifest error. The man of genius, who is constantly occupied by new productions, has not time to analyse the mechanism of his own works; he has no doubt that he himself understands what he knows, and he has no faith in things which are to be learned; no man can be more unfit to become a teacher. The power of analysis is a very rare gift of nature, and not necessarily connected with or produced by any of the other faculties of the mind.

After giving some preliminary notions on the most important objects of music, M. Reicha passes to the definition of melodic designs, of cadences, of rhythm, and the construction of the period. He then develops all those points in separate articles, entitled—1. Of periods consisting of one member only. 2. On periods consisting of two members. 3. On the complement (filling up) of the bar after the completion of a melodic phrase. 4. On measures understood, not expressed in the rhythm. 5. On the melodic echo. 6. On the difference of rhythms in relation to the quantity of bars. 7. On periods consisting of two members. 8. Of Organ points, &c. 9. On the conducting of melody. 10. On periods consisting of more than two members. 11. On the connection of periods. 12. On melodies consisting of two periods. 13. On melodies with three principal periods. 14. General observations on the form, outline, and dimensions of melodic phrases. 15. Remarks on airs of declamation and concerted pieces. 16. On the different characters of melody. 17. Observations on the unity and variety of melody. 18. On the style of delivering and of ornamenting melody. 19. Observations on national airs. 20. On the methods of developing a subject. 21. On the methods of studying and practising the writing of melody. 22. Plan of a programme of a course of study for composition. 23. Last remarks on rhythm. 24. (Supplement.) On the art of accompanying melody with harmony where the former is predominant.

MR. BARNETT versus THE PHILHARMONIC SOCIETY.

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

Without a wish to mix up your respectable publication with my quarrels and grievances, I trust you will make known the following remarks to your readers, and allow them to judge for themselves whether they are called for or gratuitous.

A few months ago I was informed of certain reformations about to take place in the Philharmonic Society, and of certain resolutions agreed upon at a meeting of the members. I refrained from making known to the public then that portion of the business which concerned me, because I gained my information in confidence; but since that time, I have heard it from those who have made no secret of it: I shall, therefore, treat the public with a ‘plain unvarnished tale,’ serving to show the extreme liberality of the Philharmonic Society.

Soon after the publication of my strictures upon the unjust conduct of these gentlemen towards native artists, their truth was doubtless felt; and a meeting was called for the laudable purpose of arranging plans to treat artists in future more generously than they had treated me. We not unfrequently find that ungenerous persons (like bad paymasters, who either pay beforehand or not at all) stride from one extreme to the other: thus the Society acted as preposterously on the one hand, as they had before done on the other; and, with a show of liberality which I had not given them credit for, they now resolved upon engaging English writers by wholesale, to compose for them, thereby giving the lie to all I had advanced against them. Mr. A. then proposed his intimate friend Mr. B., and Mr. C. did the same kind act for Mr. D., until the whole alphabet of English composers was proposed and received. Some of the gentlemen (I mention no names) who were to be called upon to write had scarcely made up their minds whether they should set up for composers or not; and I doubt not that there was at the time a great run upon Messrs. Boosey and Co. for all the partiture of the classical writers. Now then was the glorious time for the Society to lay aside all personal feeling towards me, and to do me justice, in common with others of no greater pretensions than myself. At this meeting of the members of the Philharmonic, there was but one gentleman (whose name I do not feel myself at liberty to mention) who felt and stated, in finding that my name was not in the most remote manner alluded to, that I had been unjustly treated by them, and that, as a liberal body, they ought to make the amende honorable by employing me with the rest; and that if it was to be presumed that I was the first cause of a revolution in the arrangements of the Society, that I ought at least to share in the benefits of it. No sooner did the hated name echo from director to member, than the hue and cry was raised, the motion negatived on all hands, the member silenced, and the Philharmonic Society, in the very midst of their (newly-acquired) glowing liberality, forgetting themselves, threw off their “borrowed robes,” and appeared in their native nudity.

I am not vain enough to say that my trifling efforts were worthy of performance at their concerts, but I may boldly assert that my abilities (such as they are) had nothing at all to do with their rejection of me: had I been a Beethoven, I doubt not that they would have treated the bare mention of my name in the same manner. They were actuated by a paltry feeling of revenge and animosity, and hailed the opportunity of casting an affront upon me; but in this way alone could they do it: they dared not to revenge themselves openly upon me, but under cover of a meeting to which they knew I could not gain admittance to tax them with their injustice.

Having learnt the result of the transaction, I came to the natural conclusion, that I had judged these gentlemen aright. Had they waived that ill feeling towards me, which was occasioned by any act of mine which they might have deemed improper, and had admitted me upon the score of any musical talent which I might possess, their conduct would have been magnanimous, and I should have sorely regretted having exposed their former ill treatment of me to the public, but—

they did the very thing to convince the world that my original opinion of them was a just one. However disposed I might have been to have judged them liberally, it was not likely that a body of men who had before treated me so scurvily either would or could now behave like true artistes, and, in the anxious wish to advance music in England, lose sight of all private picque.

In conclusion, should any further question arise whether, in the first instance, they treated me as I have represented, let it be borne in mind that I advanced, boldly, a string of facts which were given publicity to, through the medium of the Harmonicon: I signed my name, gave my address, and was ready for any confutation, either public or private. The only reply to my former letter was a weak and futile attempt to prove that Messrs. ATTWOOD and POTTER were not so clever as I asserted them to be; but the main point was not attempted to be disputed, and my brave antagonist shielded himself under cover of a fictitious name. These gentlemen thought it wisest to suffer my assertions to go uncontradicted, because they could not disprove them; and, moreover, because they knew that I had in the background strong evidence of the TRUTH of my statement, even among the members of their own Society.

I have the honour, Sir,
Of subscribing myself
Your obedient, humble servant,
JOHN BARNETT.

MEMOIRS OF DR. BURNEY, BY HIS DAUGHTER MAD. D’ARBLAY.

[Concluded from page 99.]

IN bringing to a conclusion this lengthened account of a work which, however executed, must be interesting to the general reader on account of the anecdotes relating to distinguished literary and other characters which it contains, and to the musical amateur from the information, though too scanty, which it conveys on matters concerning his favourite pursuit, we shall confine ourselves as much as possible to what relates to the art and its professors.

In 1785, Dr. Burney’s account of the Commemoration appeared, and led to his first audience of George III. and his queen.

The remaining part of this conversation we omit, out of tenderness to Madame d’Arblay, who, being a practised writer, surely might have conveyed the sense of the highly flattering compliment paid her by their Majesties in less direct terms than she has here employed.

In 1786, Dr. Burney experienced some disappointment in not being appointed to succeed Mr. Stanley (‘blind Stanley’) as Master of the King’s band. The office was bestowed on Mr., afterwards Sir William, Parsons, by the Marquess of Salisbury, the Lord Chamberlain, at the request of the Marchioness. As Mr. Parsons had even less claims as a composer than Dr. Burney, and—though a most honourable, well-educated, sensible man, of very polished manners—possessed none of those literary talents which the other was then so exclusively and successfully devoting to the service of music, his appointment to the only place in the gift of the crown which offers anything like an adequate reward for musical eminence, was much censured, and, according to the author of these Memoirs, not a little displeasing to the King. It is but just, however, to the memory of Sir W. Parsons, to add, that he[Pg 122] very soon conciliated the good will of all the royal family, with whom, ostensibly as singing-master to the Princesses, he passed much time, at both Buckingham House and Windsor, in intercourse as social as the great difference of each in the parties permitted.

About this time, Miss F. Burney, the future wife of General d’Arblay, was made Keeper of the Robes to the Queen, and had apartments assigned to her in the two principal royal residences. At those in Windsor Castle, Dr. Burney was, by royal desire, invited to pass some days with his daughter; and here the King, throwing off all the formalities of royalty, had an opportunity of entering into unrestrained, familiar conversation with the historian of music. The first of the interviews thus agreeably brought about is described in the following extract.

In 1791, Dr. Burney became a ‘member among the monthly reviewers, under the editorship of the worthy Mr. Griffith.’ In the same year he commences his journal in the following words:—

In 1801, Dr. Burney entered into an engagement with the proprietors of Rees’s Cyclopædia, as it is called, to furnish all its musical articles at stated periods. He thus speaks of this enterprise in a letter to some friend:—

And in his letters to West Hamble on the same subject, he mentions, that to fulfil his engagement, he generally rises at five or six o’clock every morning—! in his seventy-sixth year.

The only entry in Dr. Burney’s journal, in the year 1803, relates to Beethoven’s music, of the merits of which his quick discrimination enabled him immediately to form a favourable opinion.

In his journal for 1804, he mentions his retirement from his profession, and confesses the advance of some of those infirmities which, when within two years of becoming an octogenarian, it is rather difficult to avoid.

Dr. Burney meets the Prince of Wales at Lady Salisbury’s, and, of course, is enchanted by him. At the same party is Lady Melbourne, an old pupil of the Doctor, who reproaches him with never having been to dine with her, and promptly mixes up a party, in which the heir apparent and the musical historian are the chief ingredients. The Prince and the Doctor agree surprisingly well in their opinions, and meet again afterwards at the Opera, where their unanimity is not less remarkable. But a few months later, Dr. Burney being on a visit to the Duke of Portland, at Bulstrode, is in company with Lord and Lady Darnley, with whom he did not so well agree in matters of musical taste.

In 1805, the King visited and closely inspected Chelsea College, of which Dr. Burney was resident organist; and he had the honour to be summoned to the royal presence, when a long conversation, very diligently recorded in the Doctor’s journal, took place, of which the following is a small portion:—

Nearly all the poets thus alluded to are still living, but most of them are entirely recovered from such diseases. The dancers and fiddlers so elegantly spoken of, and in the plural number, to avoid apparent personality, were, we conjecture, M. Didelot and Mr. Viotti, both of whom were, for a time, obliged to leave this country.

Dr. Burney all his life had been a zealous Tory, but the Tories never showed their zeal for him. In 1806, when the Whigs came into office, the united efforts of Mr. Windham and Mr. Fox procured for the historian of music a pension of £300—a grant which, it is not saying much when we assert, was more justly obtained in this instance, than in nine cases out of ten in which the royal prerogative has been exercised.

Not only was the latter part of Dr. Burney’s life rendered comfortable through the instrumentality of that party for which he, and still more his daughter, entertained so great a horror, but he was destined to have an honour of the highest kind conferred on him by Jacobinism itself; for about this time the Institut National de France elected him a member of the Classe des Beaux Arts; and we have reason to know that he considered this as one of the most flattering events of his life; though his daughter, governed by prejudice rather than that exactness which ought to be the chief aim of a biographer, would lead us to believe that the distinction thus conferred was not only embarrassing, but somewhat disagreeable to him.

We now are fast approaching the close of Dr. Burney’s life, and the termination of this Memoir. One of the best remarks that have, in the progress of these three volumes, fallen from Madame d’Arblay’s pen, is the following, introducing the last entry made by her father in his journal. The date is 1813.

The winter of 1814 was remarkable for its severity, and made its impression on the feeble frame of Dr. Burney. Spring, however, had arrived, and he flattered himself, or rather flattered his numerous and affectionate family, that he had triumphed over the effects of so inclement a season. But he was deceived: the exertion to resist its influence had cost all his remaining strength, and more genial weather found him utterly exhausted.

On the 12th of April he almost suddenly exhibited symptoms which showed that nature could make no further effort, and he remained in a state nearly approaching insensibility, till the 15th, in the evening of which day he tranquilly breathed his last. A detailed account of this event is given in a letter written at the time by Madame d’Arblay to her husband, General d’Arblay, then in Paris, and this narrative may be mentioned as one of the best parts of the whole work; though it evidently has received recent touches that have not improved what we can imagine to have been the more natural tone and style of the original.

A memoir of so distinguished a literary character, of so excellent a musical critic, as Dr. Burney, cannot be read without exciting a very considerable degree of interest, particularly as coming from the pen of a celebrated writer; and, still more especially, as embodying[Pg 124] numerous anecdotes of persons who filled such prominent stations, and shone with so much brilliancy, during a period that may almost be called our own. Had the whole been written with the spirit and in the manner of those early letters which Madame d’Arblay has here so judiciously published in all their native vivacity and unaffected simplicity, the work would have been delightful and irreproachable: but, unhappily, she delayed putting together her materials till that judgment, once so strong, was no longer in full vigour; till advancing age had somewhat lessened those qualifications which, at the time when she was deprived of her highly-gifted, excellent, and venerable parent, she, most undeniably, possessed for the performance of such a task.

Vain would it be to express a wish that Madame d’Arblay could be induced to publish what we will venture to call a castigated edition of this Memoir; her age renders it next to impossible that such a hope should be realized: but the time probably will come, when what she has here collected will be revised, be combined in a very different manner, and then form a work worthy of being classed among the most entertaining of the many pieces of biography in which the literature of our country abounds.

ON THE RE-INTRODUCTION OF THE LYRE,

In its most ancient form of a four-stringed Instrument.

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

WE have lately seen the guitar, an instrument nearly new to this country, introduced among us, and acquire great popularity. This was an instrument of the Greeks, though far less a favourite than the lyre. Why, then, should not the lyre be now found to possess yet higher recommendations? The fact of its origin in Greece, and the high estimation in which it was held by that people, prove, at least, that it deserves our study.

The strings of the lyre, it appears, were gradually increased from four to forty. The lyre of Apollo had only four strings; and the number of seven continued to be established by law at Sparta, so late as the time of Timotheus, who attempted an innovation in adding four more, and was condemned for it.

Some circumstances render it, in my opinion, probable that, in playing on the lyre, the ancients stopped the strings, at various places, by means of some metallic substance, in order to produce a great variety of notes. Probably the plectrum might occasionally be used for that purpose. It was, indeed, scarcely possible that their κιθαρα should so perfectly resemble the guitar of the present day (as observed in the sequel), without suggesting to them the stopping of the strings of the lyre.

The violin seems to me to be only a modification of the earliest lyre, having attached to it a vast body for the purpose of increasing sound, a contraction in the middle to allow the application of the bow, and an elongated neck to permit the same hand at once to support it against the shoulder and to stop the strings.

What has been gained by these changes?—By the body, loudness of tone; by the bow, continuity; and by the neck, a new mode of at once supporting and stopping.

What is the relative value of these changes?—Great loudness may be no advantage. Continuity may not be desirable, even when the voice is not engaged; and it never is so where the instrument is employed as a mere accompaniment. A new mode of at once supporting and stopping is only of use in this new application of the instrument.

What has been lost by these changes?—for it is really possible that we may have lost something by improving upon the Greeks, and that improvement upon the lyre of Apollo may deserve to be classed with improvements on the Philippics of Demosthenes, on the Iliad of Homer, on the Parthenon of Phidias, &c.—Why, by the body, we may have lost somewhat of the freer aërial vibration when we gained so much of the woody or boxy one, for these should bear a certain relation to each other; by the bow, we may have lost the natural ring of musical chords, when we gained the ever distinguishable scrape of horse-hair and rosin; and by the neck, we may have lost a more perfect stop, by trying at once to stop and support.

It is worthy of remark, that the mere external beauty of all instruments of this kind is destroyed by a large body or sounding-box. The most beautiful forms of the lyre, among the Greeks, had least of this; and even the guitar had a body proportionately small, if we may judge from that of which a figure, hitherto I believe unobserved, may be seen sculptured among the Townley marbles in the British Museum—No. 35 of the fifth room.

The violin has, in regard to beauty of form, too large a body. It looks something like the shell of a large crab with a tail attached to it. The bow, however, gives an external vibration which compensates for this; and it would almost seem that we might consider the length of the bow as added to that of the strings.

In the construction of stringed instruments, nothing seems more wonderful than that the strings should be incapable of producing what may be called musical sound, except in connexion with some hollow wooden or other body; that the vibrations of the former should seem incapable of being communicated to the air; and that, though the latter is itself incapable of producing any musical sound, it should so accurately communicate, and, as it were, enforce, the power of each otherwise silent string which is attached to it.—This subject requires further observation and inquiry.

So much for the body at present.—I would more particularly dwell on the great advantage resulting from the absence of that continuity of tone which is produced by the bow, where the instrument is a mere accompaniment.

Where tones are emitted in consequence of strings not being struck or rubbed, but merely set free from the finger, where these tones assist and verify the voice, and yet, owing to their peculiar quality, in no way interfere with it, and where, from want of continuity, they gradually fall while the tones of the voice steadily proceed, or even rise,—a beautiful contrast is formed, the voice acquires an[Pg 125] accuracy, boldness, and independence which could not otherwise be obtained by it, and all its power and splendour are displayed to the utmost advantage.

It was evidently this change from non-continuity to continuity of tone, and the corresponding change of position, which unfitted the violin for an accompaniment to the voice, and which leave to the lyre its high prerogative in this respect.

These reflections have led me to propose the restoration of the lyre, and that in its most ancient form, as a four-stringed instrument; for such form would be attended with a great advantage, namely, that the whole of the violin music at present extant would be instantly applicable to it.

Its advantages over the violin or violoncello played pizzicato, are its far greater beauty of form, the absence of the wooden tone, the freedom of its strings, and its capability of a fuller harmony—a vast recommendation in these days.

The lyre is indeed altogether unrivalled for beauty of form. It may be constructed of any size to avoid the wooden tone of the sounding-box. Its strings, which vibrate with perfect freedom, may be accurately stopped by means of a metallic instrument. Half or quarter notes may be produced on it; and these may be run into each other, upward or downward, by carrying the stop correspondingly over the string.

It is not, however, enough to propose this: I have carried into practice what I recommend. By merely cutting away the finger-board of an old lute, reducing it to the length of a violin, and fitting it up with four strings, I have procured a lyre which fulfils every expectation that can reasonably be founded on such a transformation.

Great beauty and even splendour may, however, be given to the form of the lyre, and of these it is quite worthy, for its capabilities seem to have little limit. I have no doubt, therefore, that it is destined to become, in the hands of the vocalist, precisely what the violin is in those of the instrumentalist.

A BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE OF TAMBURINI. BY M. CASTIL BLAZE.

ANTONIO TAMBURINI, the man who has brought base singing to its utmost perfection, was born at Faenza, March 28, 1800. He was the son of Pasquale Tamburini and Luigia Collina. His father was a professor of music at Faenza, playing on the clarionet, the horn, and the trumpet. He quitted this town and went to Fossombrone, near Ancona, where he became the director of the musicians entertained by the municipal authorities. Antonio accompanied his father, who taught him the rudiments of music, and then gave him lessons on the horn. At the age of nine the young Tamburini played this instrument very well, though it never pleased him; but the fatigue attendant on its practice in the case of so young a subject, brought on a serious illness, which determined his father to change the object of his son’s musical studies. When his health was perfectly re-established, he was placed under the Maestro di Capello at Fossombrone, who exercised him continually in the solfeggi, and then brought him forward in all the churches of the town and its environs. He was everywhere admired for the beauty of his voice; but when he was twelve years old, his father’s engagement at Fossombrone being ended, they returned to his native town of Faenza, where he was engaged at the theatre to sing the soprano parts in the chorus. The smallest towns in Italy possess their musical artists of the first merit; and such singers as Mombelli, David, and Donzelli, did not disdain to assist at the theatre of Faenza during the fair. Our youthful choriste heard and admired their execution; he profited by what he heard, and without receiving lessons from any one, formed his own style on the models that he had thus daily opportunities of witnessing. He divided his time between the church and the theatre, as is the custom in countries where music still forms a prominent part in the service of the temple. His assistance was required in the chapels of all the neighbouring convents, where his fine voice and delicate and florid execution were the theme of universal admiration.

At eighteen Tamburini resolved to see the world, and, without bidding adieu to his parents, this nightingale of Faenza took flight for Bologna, the rendezvous of all those pretenders to musical fame who, possessing moderate talent, come there hoping to form engagements with the managers of various corps of itinerant artists who seek for such to fill their ranks; and with one of these, who was forming a troupe for the theatre at Cento, he associated himself.

In the mean time the delicate soprano of Tamburini had become a fine base, at once sonorous and flexible—full of expression and pathos, and, at the same time, capable of executing with ease rapid and brilliant passages. He made his débût in the town of Cento, in La Contessa di Col-Erboso of Generali, and was agreeably surprised by the reception he met with: the measured and moderate praises bestowed on him in his native town had not prepared him for the enthusiastic plaudits that awaited this his débût in the first rank of dramatic character as a base singer. However, such was his success, that it emboldened the leader to advertise a representation for the benefit of this highly-favoured débutant: honour was, however, all that he derived from this evening’s success; the profit went to the funds of the troupe. At Mirandola, at Correggio, his success was the same: at the latter place he met with Azioli, who congratulated him on his voice and his talent, telling him at the same time, that with more regular study he would probably have had less brilliant success. Their musical tour completed, the troupe returned to Bologna, where one of the actors proposed to ask for the Teatro Contavalli, for the purpose of giving representations, but Tamburini distrusted his powers, nor could the favourable reception he had hitherto met with make him confident of success with the more refined audience of Bologna. In this diffidence none shared, and it was determined that the attempt should be made. The dilettanti of Bologna confirmed the judgment already given at Cento, Mirandola, and Correggio; in consequence, he was immediately engaged for the theatre at Piacenza, during the Carnival of 1819. Here Tamburini found a much more extensive musical library, and was enabled thus to quit the circumscribed path he had hitherto trodden, and to launch out at once into the wide field of Rossini’s compositions. He appeared first in the Cenerentola, and his fame spreading rapidly, Rimbaldi came express from Naples to judge of the merits of this youthful pretender, and finding that report had not exaggerated his talents, immediately engaged him for the Teatro Nuovo in that city. If his débût here was not marked by that[Pg 126] enthusiastic applause which had awaited him in other places, his success was not the less solid, being only delayed by the caution of a fastidious public, which here, as in Paris, withholds its praise till the judgment is entirely satisfied. It is enough to say, his engagement was renewed for the next season.

During these two years, Pavesi, Generali, Cordella, and Mercadante, wrote for Tamburini. The troubles of 1820 causing the theatres of Naples to be closed, he went to Florence, where he was attacked by a serious indisposition, which checked for a time his career of fame. From Florence he went to Leghorn for the Carnival; and from thence to Turin. In the autumn of 1822 he appeared on the immense stage of La Scala, at Milan, and met here with Mlle. Marietta Gioja, a singer of much merit and most agreeable figure, to whom he was soon after married. Passing through Venice, on his road to Trieste, where he was engaged for the Carnival, he was stopped by a mandate too powerful and too flattering to be resisted, that he might assist at two representations of Il Matrimonio Segreto, in presence of the Emperors of Germany and Russia, and at the concerts given to them and their court.

He afterwards proceeded to Venice to fulfil his engagement there, whence he went to Sicily, and remained two years at Palermo. A singular story is told of him during his residence in that city, where a custom prevails of allowing, during the first day of the Carnival, the audience at the theatres to interrupt and drown the performance by every sort of discordant noise. The prima donna, offended at this licence, refused to perform her part; the people were furious; and Tamburini, who had once before allayed the storm by his ready wit, now undertook to go through the scene in the dress of Elisa, and in the high tones of his clear falsetto, which he is said to have done with the most perfect success, contriving even to perform the duet, with which the scene concludes, by rapidly changing from the high notes of the female part to the deep and full tones of his own natural voice. He gave another proof of the versatility of his talent at Naples, where the principal woman having, through sudden illness, lost her power of singing, he went through the whole aria while she leaned motionless on his shoulder. After he quitted Palermo, he entered into an engagement with Barbaja for four years, during which he appeared at Milan, at Vienna, and at Genoa, for the opening of the Carlo-Felice. He was then recalled to Naples by Barbaja, with whom he had renewed his engagement. After two years of uninterrupted success at Naples, he came to London; thence he proceeded to Paris, where he made his débût on the 7th of October, 1832, in his favourite part of Dandini in La Cenerentola.

Tamburini is a good actor; his figure is manly, and his exterior is altogether noble and prepossessing; his acting is full of spirit and gaiety. His voice is a fine baritone, well defined, extending from A to F, occasionally reaching G sharp

, and sometimes descending to G flat

. I might have allotted to him the two full octaves without reserve, but I prefer to retrench the semitone, above and below, that I may give to his voice and tone the full praise it merits. It is round, rich, and clear, of wonderful flexibility, and such astonishing firmness, that it is impossible to suspect any note is passed over unperceived. He has the neatness and precision of execution that Ber and Barizel have acquired on the clarionet or bassoon. The tone is equal in its whole extent, taking and holding F sharp

with as much ease as a tenor voice would do, or running over the notes with a vivacity unheard of till now; while its pathetic tones, in the cavatina from La Straniera, Mai tu vieni o misera, move the hearer even to tears. The parts of Dandini and of Figaro show his comic powers, his good taste, and the astonishing rapidity of his articulation. No singer has yet displayed so much grace in the andante from La Cenerentola, Come un Ape. The part of Valdeburgo, in La Straniera, and of Uberto in l’Agnese of Paer, have taught us to appreciate his pathetic powers, and even to the insignificant part of Faraone, in Mosè, he has given a degree of importance which does honour to his powers. Such brilliant successes could not fail to induce our directors of the Italian Opera in Paris to engage Tamburini for the ensuing season.

ON PRIZES FOR GLEES.

The adjudication, last Tuesday, of the premium given by the Catch-Club for the best glee, has very much excited the notice of amateurs as well as professors. Not that the taste, much less the impartiality, of those who voted on the occasion is at all seriously impugned, for they had nothing but second-rate compositions to deal with, though one which was rejected is superior to either of the two selected for final choice. But great regret is openly expressed that the members of so long established, so distinguished a musical society,—a society to which we are indebted for the finest works of their kind that this, their native country, ever produced,—should now, when genius is not abundant, bind themselves to award their prize, whether the candidates do or do not establish a just claim to it. Suppose, it is said, that next year another Cooke, another Webbe, a Stafford Smith, or a Callcott, should start up, would any of these feel honoured by a premium that had been bestowed on compositions with which they would hardly have deigned to compete?

You probably may ask what remedy there is for the evil? I will endeavour to point one out; and I think that those who have to discharge a duty which often is so perplexing and comfortless, will be inclined to listen at least to my proposal. My remedy is this:—let it not be imperative on the club to give the prize when the positive merits of the claimants are insufficient to entitle any one of them to the reward. Sometimes it happens that two or more competitors, of great and equal ability, appear together; in such cases it is a very painful task to make the selection. Now, if the judges held in hand, had at their disposal, one or more deferred prizes, they would possess the means to reward merit when it should appear in a plurality of instances, and thus stimulate to further exertion those who might be at once depressed by having their reasonable hopes disappointed, and whose failure might prevent them from making another effort. For real genius, Sir, is always sensitive, and sometimes is easily discouraged; while plodding mediocrity is devoid of the finer feelings, is persevering, and ready to profit by the dearth of real, of commanding talent.

I wish it to be understood, however, that I have no intention that the latter observation should be applied to any individual whatever,—it is meant to be quite general, not personal.

[Pg 127]

REVIEW OF NEW MUSIC.

SACRED MUSIC.

WE have more than once taken the liberty to offer it as our opinion, that, as an amusement, and to fill up those leisure moments which every profession, if prudently pursued, must afford, music is the fittest for the clergy, not only because it is intellectual and innocent, but inasmuch as it enables a divine to superintend and regulate an influential, therefore an important, part of the church service. A knowledge of this art qualifies him to advise and direct his organist and his singers, who, in most cases, stand much in need of counsel, for want whereof they not unfrequently, though we are persuaded unintentionally, run many risks of making ridiculous that which should excite nothing but associations and feelings of the gravest and calmest kind.

The author of the first of the above publications is, clearly, a good musician; the whole of his Service is evidence of this, though it does not enable us to add that it exhibits much invention. The plan long laid down has here been followed with a scrupulousness which, probably, Mr. Shuttleworth considers a duty: if he has erred, his error is on the right side, for any attempt to over-modernize, to radically change, the form of our church music, is to be deprecated and resisted. This is a Verse Service in F, not elaborately written, pleasing melody, harmony good but not deep, and a correct accentuation of the words, appearing to have been the great objects of the composer, in which he has succeeded. Those choirs, consequently, which are anxious to increase their library, may safely add the present work to their collection.

Mr. Crivelli’s Hymns are creditable to his taste, and likewise show that he has made himself better acquainted with our language than is the case with most of his countrymen. Nevertheless he has wanted—and this is by no means surprising—some little assistance in adjusting his notes to English poetry, though the instances of error are few, and correction may easily be applied by the intelligent singer. The hymns are six in number, four for soprano, contr’alto, (or low soprano,) and base; and two for soprano, tenor, and base. The style is an intentional, but not heterogeneous mixture of Italian and English; the parts are vocal and easy, and the accompaniment is simple without being meagre.

No. 3 is an elegant volume in quarto, with frontispiece, presentation plate, gilt leaves, and all the exterior decorations of the best musical annuals. Its interior, too, corresponds, in some degree, with its outside appearance; of the twenty compositions contained in the volume, nearly all are respectable, and some much to be commended. Two by Neükomm have much pleased us; also one each by Dr. Carnaby and Edwin Nielson. An adaptation of a quartet by Mozart, said to be his last composition, is a good piece of simple harmony: and the very air by Beethoven which is given in its true form in our present number, is here adapted to words; but much altered in many respects, and transposed from A flat to G—we need not say, very detrimentally. The words upon the whole suit the music very well; but an exception cannot but be made as regards the third in the set, ‘Oh! read to me,’ where we find more blunders than we supposed could have been gathered together in three pages;—e. g. promises; penitent;—‘of’ and ‘its,’ occupying half a bar each, and moreover the accented half, &c.: nevertheless, the volume contains enough to make it worth the price which all experienced people will buy it at. The marked price, indeed, is moderate.

No. 4 is a nicely got up little work in octavo, published in numbers, each containing eight pages. In the present two numbers are five pieces,—an air by Neükomm, from his oratorio; one by Mr. Goss; the Vesper Hymn, by Attwood, originally published in the Harmonicon, which ought to have been acknowledged; an Elegy for three voices, by Eisenhofer; and a movement from Beethoven’s Septet, with words very well set to it. This is a publication entitled to much commendation; but what will the brethren of the music trade say to so cheap a work? Surely Messrs. Cramer and Co. will be anathematized by the fraternity!

PIANO-FORTE.

WHETHER it is that the state of the country influences the publication of music of this class, or that the extravagancies and inanities with which we have so long been deluged have at length produced the effect which was to be expected, we will leave our readers to determine; certain it is that very few compositions for the piano-forte have appeared this spring—a season in which they usually are so abundant that we have found it difficult to keep pace with them, and indeed have generally been deeply in arrear with composers of all descriptions. Our belief is, that music requiring nothing but mechanical powers of execution, in which neither taste nor invention have any share, has had its day—a very long one; but people are growing more rational, common sense is returning, and[Pg 128] with it will be again opened to us those rich stores of the great masters, the access to which has been almost choked up by the rubbish that has issued in cart-loads from the shops, and been recommended by nine masters in every ten throughout the country. Haydn and Mozart will again be met with in the drawing-room; Beethoven’s best and most reasonable works will once more be placed before the fashionable amateur; Dussek’s, Clementi’s and Steibelt’s works, with the early ones of Cramer, will be restored; and even Handel and Corelli must speedily be acknowledged to possess as much claim to notice as Czerny, Pixis, and id genus omne.

The two rondos before us are from an opera very popular in Paris; indeed we are indebted to the theatre for all our most modern piano-forte music. The first air—if air it may be called, which, though it has rhythm, possesses little melody—is simple enough, being nearly all confined to the following notes:—

Mr. Kalkbrenner has of course very much extended it, by passages, one or two of which bring back good old harmony to our recollection, by others not inappropriate, and none difficult; but altogether this has not many pleasing qualities to recommend it.

No. 2 is an agreeable though not a very uncommon air. M. Adam has enlarged it in a familiar manner certainly, for while about his task, if a task it proved, he was not able to call up a single new thought. And let us caution him against such left-hand passages as

they are intolerable, and send one back to the horn-book of music. They are, it is true, to be met with now and then in some few of the old and excellent masters; but in reviving the works of these—which will soon be set about—all such twaddle must be carefully expunged.

It will be supposed, from the wording of the title-page of No. 1, that the air is the composition of Mr. Rawlings, whereas it is the very melody that lately produced the controversy between the author and Mr. Gödbe, and to which our pages gave publicity. The best part of the air, in fact, is Stephen Storace’s, though it is very possible that Mr. George Linley, who claims it, had it floating in his memory, without being aware that it had any rightful owner. Mr. Rawlings has increased its dimensions by some exceedingly commonplace descant, and the guilt of employing the very base which we have above reprobated he shares in common with M. Adolphe Adam. The whole is easy and inoffensive, with the exception we mention.

To criticise No. 2 would be to break a butterfly on a wheel. A butterfly!—most of the papilio tribe are beautiful, a quality not at all perceptible in this one-part-milk-and-nine parts-water production, craving the reader’s pardon for so long a compound; which epithet, however, overrates the strength of the composition under notice.

IN the first of these, three of the less commonly known airs in Il Pirata are woven together with some skill. The first pages are the best, though Mr. Etherington ought to have been aware that such reiterated triplets of the same notes as are introduced at page 2 are ill adapted to keyed instruments. Is this, we beg leave to ask, one of the works which the publisher sells to the profession, and to country traders, at a quarter of the marked price?

No. 2 is a mere bagatelle, but it is a pretty trifle, and a trait or two of originality may be traced amidst its unaffected simplicity.

DUETS, PIANO-FORTE.

No. 1 is a spirited composition, in which are some good effects, but so little of novelty of any kind is to be discovered in it, that it really may be considered as—what most modern things are—a compilation.

No. 2, the fifth of a set of six, from Haydn’s oratorio, is the chorus ‘Achieved is the glorious work,’ including the lovely trio, ‘On Thee each living soul awaits,’ arranged in Mr. Watts’s usual effective and sensible manner.

No. 3, though confessedly made up of subjects by Auber, is modestly claimed by M. Czerny as his own composition. The assurance of some few musicians seems to have no bounds, but we really believe that it is attributable to want of understanding, to no worse cause, therefore make great allowances for it; though we deem it prudent to mention the matter, in order to warn others from being guilty of the like weakness. Here are certainly dove-tailed together some of the best airs in the opera, and a brilliant duet is fabricated out of them, but the present arranger can very seldom refrain from exhibiting his musical folly, and has now filled too many pages with passages quite irrelevant, exceedingly difficult to players in general, and producing no satisfactory result. Let the reader not overlook one remarkable fact recorded on the title-page of this publication,—it is M. Czerny’s two-hundred and forty-seventh work! And he is still quite a young man. What a treasure to the stationer! What a labourer for the cheesemonger!

THE MUSICAL SCRAP BOOK, edited by FINLAY DUN. No. 1. 1 vol. 4to. (Edinburgh, Wood and Co.)

THIS is a collection of[Pg 129] ‘original and selected songs, ballads, &c. for the voice, and polonaises, quadrilles, &c. for the piano-forte.’ Why it should be called a Scrap-book we cannot positively say, seeing that all the pieces it contains are entire, not fragments. Perhaps it is so named for pretty much the same reason that a multitude of leaves covered with music-printer’s blackest ink was not long since called an Album.—Lucus a non lucendo. But we forgive the misnomer, and look to the body of the work, which, in thirty-two pages, comprises some rather agreeable trifles, both vocal and instrumental, and three or four much too feeble to be at all pleasant. But to make up for these, we have the lovely andante from Mozart’s second violin quartet, arranged for the piano-forte, and a very sweet ballad by Marschner. The work is brought out in a neat respectable manner, and intended as a quarterly publication.

VOCAL.

No. 1 is a very graceful trio for three soprano voices; and for the convenience of those who prefer English to Italian words, the music is also set to a translation, which is remarkably well adapted to the notes.

The whole of No. 3 may be said to be comprised in four bars, for the ballad is nothing but a repetition of these, which have not either novelty or beauty to recommend them.

No. 5, a humorous, clever song, is a pleasant laugh at that employment by which idle people contrive to kill time, ycleped archery. It is a matron who sings, and complains that one of her daughters is too fat to wear the prize bracelets, even should she win them, and the other so giddy that she once shot her arrow into Lady Flint’s eye, instead of the target. Neither attract the desired notice of the male toxophilites, who therefore are by the disappointed mother called cross-beaux.

No. 6 is far superior to the common run of modern ballads; the air is expressive, and the words are sensibly and pleasingly set.

No. 7 is the composition of a good musician, who knows how to read the words he sets; but it is rather the fruit of labour than of inspiration.

No. 8 is a gentle, appropriate melody, full of good taste, and ably accompanied.

No. 9 is a very charming composition, rich both in air and harmony. Such music is worthy of such poetry. At the eighth bar of the second page is an error in accentuation, which may be corrected thus:

The Words are difficult to set, certainly, but ‘kiss’ must be the emphatic word, not ‘thy.’

Much of the little we have said of No. 3 applies to No. 10; we have to add that it is a duet in F sharp.

There are some good passages in No. 13, and the composer has well expressed the sentiment of the words, till he arrives at nearly the end, where he has fallen into the error of concluding with the boisterous vulgar close with which nine out of every ten Italian bravuras terminate.

The motivo of No. 14 is a pleasing air, and the accompaniment is easy and unaffected; there are, however, certain rests improperly placed, which break the connexion of the words, and almost lead to the conclusion that the music was adapted, not written, to the poetry.

No. 15 is not inelegant, though, like most of the songs which every month brings forth in such abundance, anything but new in phrase, in cadence, in melody, and in accompaniment.

PIANO-FORTE AND HARP.

GRAND DUET for Piano-forte and Harp, or two Piano-fortes, by F. KALKBRENNER and F. DIZI. Op. 82. (Chappell.)

THIS, if we mistake not, was written for and performed at the Philharmonic Concerts some years ago. It is in four movements, the first an adagio in F minor, opening into[Pg 130] an allegro maestoso in the major key; the third is Mozart’s air, ‘Deh! perdona,’ in A; and the last, an allegretto in F. We can here trace the scientific bias (we wish he would more often yield to its influence) of M. Kalkbrenner, and that delicacy of taste which is M. Dizi’s characteristic; each has had his share in producing a spirited, elegant, and effective work, in which there is no want of that grand essential in music, air, nor any deficiency of that without which melody soon becomes insipid, harmony. It is moderate in length, and displays none of those wanton, stupid difficulties of execution which the works of some of our modern German composers are bristled with, but should only be intrusted to good and experienced players.

HARP.

No. 1 is the animated, animating quartet, from Meyerbeer’s last work, arranged in an easy, but most effective manner.

No. 2 is certainly a very popular air, and not undeservedly so. The adaptation is free enough from all difficulties, but we cannot say that in other respects it is entitled so much praise.

VIOLIN.

Now and then, though very rarely, it may be desirable to have recourse to the harmonics of the violin. In certain passages they prevent the inconvenience of taking the finger from a particular string, and obviate the necessity of sudden and extreme shifts, but it is a question whether such passages should ever be written for the instrument; more especially, as is commonly the case, when they introduce notes so high as to be almost inappreciable, and so weak as to be scarcely audible. The compass of the violin, including nearly three octaves of distinct and easily produced sounds, is surely range sufficient for all rational purposes; and it is our decided opinion that, except in a few instances which just serve to prove the rule, an extension of the scale of this instrument beyond what may be called its natural boundary, is of no practical utility, and would scarcely ever be resorted to, but for the purpose of displaying the dexterity of the performer.

The author of the first of these works was induced to inquire into the manner of producing harmonics in consequence of hearing so much of Paganini’s performances, and repeated trials led to the rules he has here laid down. But, resolved to test the accuracy of his practical results by philosophical investigation, he submitted them to a friend skilful in the theory of vibrations, who demonstrated their truth, and has furnished Part III. of the present publication,—‘An Account of the Theory of the Vibration of Musical Strings, explaining the production of the Harmonic Notes on any Stringed Instrument,’ which is executed in a scientific manner, though it will not be so clear to the mere violinist as probably the author expects [56].

Part I. of this work consists of ‘Practical Rules,’ &c., which are clearly delivered and satisfactorily illustrated. Part II. is a continuation of the first, therefore it was hardly necessary to separate it. This includes a few good examples, and a very useful table, calculated on divisions into tenths, eighths, sixths, &c. of the fourth open string, and showing in notes, the harmonics resulting from the string when touched at any of those points of division.

No. 2 is chiefly made up of materials furnished by the author of No. 1. The latter, however, finding that what he supplied had been published in an incorrect, incomplete manner, determined on printing his own system, or that which we have above noticed.

The titles of Nos. 3 and 4 fully describe the nature of the two publications, which, we will add, display great industry and no little ingenuity.

[Pg 131]

ANCIENT CONCERTS.

SEVENTH CONCERT,
Under the Direction of the Duke of Cumberland, Wednesday, May 1, 1833.

Vain the search after the name of Haydn or Mozart in a concert selected by his Highness of Cumberland! And as to Beethoven’s, the mere sound of it in the royal director’s ear would be as the piercing, the threatening din of the revolutionary tocsin. The illustrious Duke is perhaps quite right—we, possibly, quite wrong; but it seems to us that a discreet mixture of modern music (not by living composers) with that of older date, would be highly to the advantage of both, particularly in a programme consisting of from eighteen to twenty pieces—a number which almost unavoidably must be felt oppressive, unless that variety, which can only be found in composers of widely-distant periods, is as much an object of attention as contrast in the species, sentiment, and keys of the pieces brought together.

But though there was a want of a due admixture of schools in the present concert, the music was the choicest of its kind. The Anthem composed for the Duke of Chandos (Pope’s Timon) is one of Handel’s best, the only weak part being the overture. The lovely air, ‘O come, let us worship,’ is rather beyond Mr. Vaughan’s voice, as it now is: with a note or two more in compass, and a small increase of strength, he would have rendered it more effective. We felt some regret that the melodious fugue, ‘Tell it out among the heathen,’ and the gentle, the charming air, ‘O magnify the Lord,’ so well adapted to Mrs. Knyvett’s powers, were not included. The vocal parts of the Frost scene were taken rather too slow: and a little more point, more emphasis, in the chiding air, ‘Thou doating fool!’ would much have improved it, otherwise this fine specimen of the great English master’s dramatic music was very successfully performed. The Concerto was executed in a manner peculiar to the Ancient Concert band, the conductor and leader of which, and a few others among its members, possess the true tradition of the author’s times and style. We would not exchange one bar of the largo in B minor, as played by F. Cramer, for all the Friars’ Chants and Witches’ Dances that adroit charlatanerie can produce, or good-humoured credulity applaud. Mad Bess pleased us much, both as part of the present concert and by exciting agreeable recollections: we admire Miss Stephens as she is and remember, with unalloyed satisfaction, what she was. The piano-forte accompaniment, too, deserves honourable mention,—so modest, so judicious! The Madrigal is a chef d’œuvre; it was sung by Mrs. Knyvett, Messrs. Terrail, Vaughan, Phillips, and Sale, in the chastest and most perfect manner. Warm as we are in our admiration of the madrigalists of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, we still must acknowledge that this lovely work of the elder Linley, by surpassing all that preceded it, proves the advance of the art; though, unfortunately, the kind of composition not having been encouraged, little has been gained by the exertion of his genius.

Hasse’s fine Bravura was sung with a neatness of execution which none ever yet exceeded. The most difficult passages proved mere playwork to Mad. Cinti, and she added to them others of her own,—very appropriate ones though,—to show how much more than equal she is to the task assigned to her. Her strength is not great, but the flexibility of her voice is surprising; and her knowledge, not merely of her own part, but of the whole of the score, is apparent in whatever she performs.

The Chorus from Jephtha wanted more support from the trebles. We advise the conductor in future to break through the trammels of custom, and accompany the point of the fugue, ‘They now contract,’ with the diapasons and principals only; that is, to spare us the mixture stops, which scream most abominably when only covered by a few sopranos.

Mr. Parry’s song from Samson was quietly and delicately sung. The glee, ‘O’er desert plains,’ could not have had more justice done it, but this really is little better than a psalm-tune. What a pity that the beautiful verses of Shenstone have never yet been wedded to more congenial music! The Recitative, ‘Ye sacred priests,’ was delivered with great judgment, and the following air, ‘Farewell!’ could not have been more delicately sung: it were, however, to be wished that the shakes, transmitted from one singer to another, could be lessened in number as they pass. And the cadence, another incumbrance, had better be at once repudiated; it is an ancient abomination, which now the English alone practise. Morley’s Madrigal is, both in melody and harmony, free as air—all hilarity, and not a glimpse of pedantry. The chorus should have repeated each stanza, and not, as on the present occasion, have been employed only in the last. Mr. Phillips, in the song from Deborah, was very nearly perfect. Bartleman in this was perfection itself; and so will our excellent living singer be, when he has acquired the deep pathos, the experience of his predecessor. In voice he has a manifest advantage; and this is not his only superiority. The aria, a bravura of John Christian Bach, (the Christian names should have been added,) has all the prettiness, and not a little of the weakness, of the composer, who, of the many sons of John Sebastian Bach, is least worthy of the name. It was executed with the utmost neatness, but not sung con amore. In fact, it has nothing in it to excite any ardour in a singer possessing Mad. Cinti’s knowledge and taste.

EIGHTH CONCERT,
Under the Direction of the Earl Fortescue, Wednesday, May 8, 1833.

The overture to Esther and Corelli’s concerto belong to a school which has always been protected and exhibited to the best advantage in these concerts; both were now performed in their true spirit. The immortal chorus from Deborah is a composition which can only receive justice in this orchestra: the great number of vocal performers collected at our grand provincial meetings certainly give more force to it, but are unable to perform it with that precision, that nicety, on which its effect so mainly depends. We never hear the passage where the voices take up the point, ‘to swift perdition,’ accurately executed but at the Ancient Concerts. The song from Judas Maccabeus is generally considered to be one of Handel’s happiest thoughts; but it rolls and rumbles so much, and the base instruments are so continually in unison with the voice—a defect not peculiar to this composer, but to the period in which he wrote—that the only pleasure which it affords us is entirely attributable to the singer, provided that singer be Phillips. Dr. Cooke’s lovely and most masterly glee was a decided failure: it is not at all suited to Mrs. Bishop; her school is of a totally different kind. To Mrs. W. Knyvett this should have been assigned.

The ‘Requiem’ and ‘Agnus Dei’ of Jomelli did not find the choral performers quite at home in their parts, although their occasional want of confidence was only discernible to very experienced and close observers. How ingenious, how effective, and yet how simple, the whole of the base accompaniment to the first movement, the Requiem! Not less admirable, but in another style, is the ‘Agnus Dei,’ and full of original melody, which is still new, because, fortunately, never yet imitated. The fugue, too, at ‘Lux æterna,’ is of that kind which, while its musical learning is as indisputable as great, possesses the superior merit of being pleasing. Mrs. Bishop is not yet familiar with Handel; her ‘Wise men, flatt’ring’ was not what it doubtless will be when she is become more accustomed to this music—though it was far from displeasing. It is much to be wished that the singer would have the courage to get rid of about two-thirds of the shakes which the composer himself, we admit, has written. We are certainly bound by the author’s text, which is permanent, but not by his embellishments, which belonged only to the age that produced them. A singer in the present day who should venture to introduce the double relish and the back-fall of the seventeenth century,—both of which, as well as other ‘graceless graces,’ are constantly found in the old writers,—would be laughed at for his scrupulous adherence to the original. The madrigal of Luca Marenzio is still fresh, and exceedingly elegant; its only fault is want of modulation. The performance of this did great credit to the singers. The fine chorus from Hercules was executed in a most perfect manner. So was the charming quartet from Samson. Here science is turned to the best account: none but a great musician could have worked out such effects, yet the whole is free from every thing that smells of the lamp. It is the true offspring of genius highly cultivated. We are old-fashioned enough in our taste to be pleased with Avison’s concerto, the soli parts in which were nicely played by Mori, (in the absence of F. Cramer,) who was ably seconded by the band, and most judiciously supported by the organ, which Mr. W. Knyvett always manages with taste and discretion. The song from Samson is beyond Mr. Horncastle’s physical powers, and only fit for such a voice and such energy as Braham possesses. Indeed, we so little like its incessant divisions, and especially the puerile attempt to give expression to the word ‘thunder,’ that we should not repine were we never to hear it again.

NINTH CONCERT,
Under the Direction of Lord Burghersh, for the Archbishop of York, Wednesday, May 15, 1833.

This was a very fine concert, for the music was well chosen, both as regards diversity of school and contrast in style. An infusion of Mozart and Beethoven as moderns, of Paisiello and Zingarelli who may be said to belong to the middle age, and of Handel and Scarlatti as of the ancient class, produced a mixture that suited every taste, and presented a fair prospect of great amelioration in the system by which these concerts are regulated.

The selection from Handel’s anthem made an excellent beginning; we should have been glad to hear the whole of it, for it is one of his best. The scene from Athalia is a good specimen of that fine but comparatively little known oratorio, the magnificent air in which, ‘When storms the proud,’ is exactly suited to Mr. Phillips, who sang it admirably. Paisiello’s delicate quartet was not very thoroughly understood by all the parties engaged in it, nevertheless it proved very satisfactory to the audience. Madame Pasta, who made her first appearance here this season, was as great as usual in the calmly impressive scena from Romeo; and in the air, ‘Ho perduto,’ gave every advantage to the work of a composer who ought again to be brought forward. The song, as it is called, of Alessandro[Pg 133] Scarlatti produced quite a surprise. Who ever supposed that an air of so much beauty could have remained thus long unknown in a concert established for the preservation of ancient music? Who ever imagined that a composition upwards of a century old could exhibit so many of the best features of the modern school, that it might be mistaken for the work of Haydn or Mozart? To Signor Rubini we are, it is said, indebted for the introduction of this antique gem, and he placed it in a highly favourable light by his manner of performing it, which, for him, was remarkably chaste.

The Ode (a much better term for it than glee) to Melancholy is one of Webbe’s chefs-d’œuvre, and shows how well that great composer understood the words. It was most perfectly sung by Miss Stephens, Mrs. Knyvett, Messrs. Terrail, Vaughan, Elliot, and Sale. Miss Stephens, in the song from Acis and Galatea, pleased as usual by her captivating simplicity. The Magnificat of Mozart was well performed, and a very grand work it is. The concerto of Handel, every part of which abounds in beautiful melody, and not less masterly, though not extraneous harmony, was most ably executed. The two fugues in this prove how possible it is to unite the learned and the agreeable. The andante of it is delicious, and here the oboe is rendered almost vocal; as is the bassoon in the last movement. The Kyrie of Beethoven wanted rather more rehearsing; and the overture to Idomeneo required the immense power of the Philharmonic band; nevertheless it produced considerable effect. But the stupendous chorus from Solomon was perfect, though wasted as a finale.

TENTH CONCERT,
Under the Direction of the Earl of Cawdor, Wednesday, May 22, 1833.

The overture to Ariadne owes its chief attraction to the graceful minuet with which it concludes, and this we cannot but think is commonly played too slow at the Ancient Concert. Andante in Handel’s time was a term indicating greater quickness than it is now understood to imply. The recitative, ‘O, thou bright orb!’ contains that risible attempt to describe the arrest of the sun’s course by a long holding note. The chorus, however, is a masterly work, but the voices were not now very firm in it. Mrs. Bishop succeeded well in the air from Athalia. The accompanied recitative, ‘Hark! the horrid sound!’ was delivered in Mr. Braham’s energetic manner; and the following song, one of the most striking proofs of the composer’s genius, is foremost among Mr. Phillips’s triumphs. The air of Gluck was a novelty, and of no ordinary merit. Set to the same words that afterwards exercised the genius of Mozart,—in La Clemenza di Tito—it not only bears a comparison with an admired air of the latter, but in our opinion was superior to it. Mr. Braham, at whose recommendation we believe it was introduced, entered thoroughly into the composer’s design, and gave the true effect to this. But, having an unquenchable antipathy to concerted cadences, we would willingly have spared the two, between the voice and trumpet, added on this occasion. The glee, ‘See the chariot at hand,’ was sung with great correctness. Madame Malibran’s scena and aria of Cimarosa was a most unequal performance: some parts were beyond all praise; others proved the uncertainty of her judgment. Her semitonic passages, neither to be found in the author nor in any way in keeping with his style, were a most unhappy evidence of her occasional want of taste and discrimination; and the broderies she introduced, though not so abundant as is common with her, were misplaced: but her recitative was admirable, and, with the exceptions we have mentioned, the aria was not less splendidly sung. We have heard ‘Gird on thy sword’ better executed: there was a want of shortness in the staccato passages; and in some others the whole band seemed deficient in confidence. The concerto of Handel—a composition which might furnish ample materials for half a dozen of modern growth—was the most perfect performance of the kind we ever heard. This is in fact a violin concerto, and Mori (who led for F. Cramer) played it in a manner that words cannot describe or do justice to. His two cadences, of modest length,—in one of which was an arpeggio, that Paganini, whose chief excellence is in arpeggiando, could not surpass—moved even this audience to a general expression of applause.

In the scena from Mozart’s Tito, Madame Malibran again exhibited her vast powers and unrestrained confidence in her own opinion. The declamatory part of this was superb, though a little hurried; and the immense compass of her voice gave an effect to the air, that, we are almost inclined to say, has never been equalled. But though the conductor took care that the latter opened in the exact time, the singer thought fit to change the movement, and most injudiciously to convert a larghetto (as marked) into an andante. Mr. Knyvett should have shown his independence by checking this, and his respect for the author by insisting on maintaining the time in which he set out. Who, in the name of reason, metamorphosed the round for three voices, ‘Chi mai d’ iniqua stella,’ into a glee for four? This should, of course, be sung by equal voices, one coming in after the other, as the author intended, or else the original design is entirely defeated. The ‘Movement from the Lessons’ is a charming orchestral arrangement of Handel’s lovely air in E, (vulgarly called The Harmonious Blacksmith,) made in excellent taste by the late Mr. Greatorex. The selection from Esther was not interesting, and the remainder of the concert demands no further observation. The room was much fuller than it has hitherto been during the present season.

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PHILHARMONIC CONCERTS.

Spohr’s symphony in E flat is richer in melody and more free from that complication which smells so much of the lamp—from that labour which fatigues the hearer as much as it did the composer, than any one of his instrumental works. His designs are here clearly expressed and readily understood, and we listen to the whole with pleasure, without feeling that any part of it has been too long. It was most accurately performed, as was also Beethoven’s, in D, one of his clearest and most beautiful orchestral productions, sparkling with genius from beginning to end. The calmly grand opening induces us to hope for much, nevertheless the exquisite larghetto surpasses all that had been anticipated. Nor are the scherzo and trio less striking in another style. The overture to the Freischütz went off admirably. The last, Winter’s, we did not hear.

Mr. Wright played Hummel’s celebrated piano-forte concerto in E, arranged for the harp, and executed it in an able manner. Herr Knoop comes from the city of our queen, Meiningen, and was recommended to the notice of the society by his majesty. To do extraordinary things seems to be the object of his ambition, and that to which his labours have chiefly been directed; he therefore can run thirds and octaves with vast celerity and neatness, and play with his left hand close to the bridge, bringing out sounds too high for even a rational violinist to attempt. But this is to please, or at least to surprise, the mob of gentlemen who hear but cannot judge. His tone, the first consideration, is nasal in what we call the legitimate notes of the instrument, and hard in the highest. His taste is not bad, but he has very little of it; and in expression, the vivifying principle of music, he is quite deficient. In short, execution appears to be the god of his idolatry, at whose altar he has sacrificed—if we may judge from a single hearing—nearly all that we consider valuable in the art. The composition he played has been extolled: in our opinion it has very little merit, except of a negative kind. We, however, were very glad to hear him; so we believe were all present, for he was new; and moreover, he has not thrown our own Lindley into shade, but, on the contrary, taught us to value him more highly.

The vocal part of this concert did not prove very successful. Mr. Parry, jun. sang Mozart’s aria very well, but it did not excite much interest. The duet of Mayer has not strength enough for these concerts, and Mr. Braham was not in good voice, the influenza had just commenced an attack on him, by which he was afterwards confined. This state of health of course operated in the scena of Beethoven, much of which, we may also add, is hardly vocal, especially the cacophonous run of semitones. The company were so exhausted by the unreasonable length of Herr Knoop’s concerto, that they left Mrs. Wood to sing the fine scena from Faust to few more than the orchestra by which she was accompanied. Upon the whole, then, it must be confessed that the present performance was not of the most brilliant kind.

Whatever defects were apparent in the fifth Concert, were fully atoned for by the sixth, in which the most fastidious critic could find only one piece of a doubtful kind, and but one that was not performed in a perfect manner.

Haydn’s symphony, in D, is too generally known and admired to need any remark. M. Mendelssohn’s, composed in pursuance of a resolution of this Society, by which he was requested to write a symphony, overture, and vocal piece, on liberal terms, is a composition that will endure for ages, if we may presume to judge such a work on a single performance. The first movement, an allegro vivace, in A, without any slow opening, speaks at once the highly excited state of the author’s imagination, and the fine flow of his animal spirits, when he wrote it: so full of brilliant conceptions is this, and so rapid their succession, that it would be a hopeless attempt to analyse it without either having heard it several times, or having the score to refer to. We may say the same of the finale, which has this peculiarity—that it is in the minor of the key in which the symphony commences. The slow movement in D minor is not less distinguished by ingenuity of a very rare description, and beauty of the most discernible kind, than by its undisputed, unquestionable originality: this was loudly encored. The scherzo, in A, and trio, in E, shew genius of a high order in every bar. And, to be brief, the manner in which the whole work was received, by the most critical, the best qualified audience that London (now full of eminent foreign musicians) could assemble, bears us out in what we have said, and would justify us were we to add still more in praise of this masterly production.

The Overture by M. Pixis, now performed for the first time here, begins in a promising manner, with some good harmony, well distributed among the wind instruments; but as it proceeds, it falls off most lamentably, and the[Pg 135] greater part of the composition is nothing but noise without design or order, and really seemed to us as if written for that fair which is annually held on the site of Smithfield market.

The performance of Mozart’s Concerto by M. Mendelssohn was perfect. The scrupulous exactness with which he gave the author’s text, without a single addition or new reading of his own, the precision in his time, together with the extraordinary accuracy of his execution, excited the admiration of all present; and this was increased, almost to rapture, by his two extemporaneous cadences, in which he adverted with great address to the subjects of the concerto, and wrought up his audience almost to the same pitch of enthusiasm which he himself had arrived at. The whole of this concerto he played from memory.

A not less admirable performance was M. De Beriot’s on the violin. As a composition, his concerto, in B minor, is entitled to high and unqualified praise; his subjects are new, pleasing, and skilfully treated, and his instrumentation, the orchestral parts of his work, prove him to be a most able musician: but his execution of this indeed ‘beggars description.’ Words cannot convey a just notion of the fulness and beauty of his tone, the certainty of his double, his triple, stops, the truth of his harmonics,—which, useless as they are, he introduced, we conclude, merely to show his power—the brilliancy of his execution, and the delicacy of his taste. We certainly never heard the violin so played, and the only fault we have to find with M. de Beriot is, that he condescended to introduce once, it not twice, certain pizzicato notes, and thus seemed to sanction a piece of quackery which he must despise. The room rung with the plaudits he drew forth, and it is said to be the intention of the directors to engage M. de Beriot for the eighth concert, being the last.

Signor Rubini refrained, as much as with him is possible, from roulades in the aria of Mozart, and his alternations of fortissimo and pianissimo were more moderate; indeed, he pretty nearly equalized his tones; but this is the only commendation we can bestow on his performance of ‘O Cara Immagine.’ In his duet with Mad. Cinti, his passionate style told better; and here again he spared us those bursts by which he caricatures so much of what is assigned to him. Mad. Cinti was delightful in the aria from Figaro. A universal encore of this proved how completely she had charmed her audience. She was not less excellent in the air of Meyerbeer, though this did not tell so well as the other. In fact the concert was long, and many people were moving off to evening parties.

EXTRACTS FROM THE DIARY OF A DILETTANTE.

April 28th. One of the greatest prôneurs of Signor Paganini has been the editor of La Revue Musicale; but in his last number, speaking of this artist’s recent performance in Paris, he says, Paganini was not on the present occasion equal to what he has been, and it appeared to us that he was not quite satisfied with himself. Is it not more likely that the fit of enthusiasm, excited by novelty, or by a well got up exhibition, is giving way to dispassionate observation and cool criticism?

May 6th. England is about to possess one of the finest rooms, and the largest and most powerful organ in Europe. What the other qualities of the latter will be, remains to be proved. But the metropolis of the kingdom will not have to boast of these advantages, the credit of them will belong to a provincial town, to Birmingham, where a townhall is nearly finished, the interior of which is 140 feet long, 65 wide, and 65 high. In this is to be placed—chiefly for the use of the musical festivals there to be held for the benefit of the General Hospital—the organ alluded to, the following description of which accompanies a lithographic print of the gigantic instrument now building.

The organ case will be forty feet wide and forty-five feet high. The largest metal diapason pipe is to be five feet three inches in circumference, and thirty-five feet in height. The largest wood diapason pipe will measure in the interior upwards of two hundred cubic feet. In the full organ are to be ten open diapasons, and all the other parts must be in calculated proportion to this. There will be sixty draw-stops, and five sets of keys. To supply so stupendous an instrument with wind will require many sets of bellows, the whole superficial measure of which will exceed three hundred and eighty feet. And to give, if it can be fairly estimated, some further idea of the magnitude of this organ, it may be stated, that its weight will amount to upwards of forty tons.

It was intended to open this grand hall, and still grander organ, in the autumn of the present year; but to prevent any injurious haste in the completion of the building and of the instrument, the grand musical festival, which will prove to the county of Warwick that it possesses one of the most splendid rooms, and the most magnificent organ in the world, is deferred till October, 1834.

8th. In the bill of the Ancient Concert this evening is an odd junction,—‘The Chaconne and Requiem of JOMELLI.’ It should have been Overture only, this including the Chaconne; and neither have any connection whatever with the Requiem, though they make a very good introduction to it. In future, let us hope that the name of a ballet-tune will not be coupled with the Missa pro defunctis; unless it be intended to have a musical as well as graphic Dance of Death.

11th. The Glee Club this day decreed their prize for the best cheerful glee to Mr. Hawes. Last week, Mr. Goss obtained the prize for a serious glee.

—— This day died a singer, not unknown to fame in her day, Mrs. Dickons, who, at nearly the close of the last century, held rather a prominent station as a performer, both on the stage and in the concert-room. This lady manifested a decided talent for music at a very early age, and at eleven years of age, her father, Mr. Poole, placed her under Rauzzini. At thirteen, the Court Journal tells us, she appeared at Vauxhall; but no notice is taken of this in the account given of her in the Dictionary of Musicians, the heads of which were probably furnished by her direc[Pg 136]tion. Afterwards, but at what exact time I am not aware, she was placed under Mr. John Ashley, jun., who instructed her generally in music, and through the interest of his father she was allowed to sing at the Ancient Concerts.

In 1793, she appeared for the first time on the stage, in the character of Ophelia, and afterwards, progressively, had many principal vocal parts assigned to her; for though her style of singing was far from refined, it was correct; and though her voice wanted fulness, and was reedy, yet her intonation was perfect, her knowledge of music gave her a firmness that few possessed, and she could be relied on both for ability and punctuality.

Miss Poole married a Mr. Dickons in 1800, and retired from the stage, finally, as she supposed, but her union did not prove so happy as she had reason to expect, and she returned to her public employment, and was engaged at the King’s Theatre, where she performed as second to Madame Catalani, who, in 1816, engaged her at the Théâtre Italién in Paris, (then on lease to Madame C.) as prima donna, where I heard her in two or three characters. Her success was such as a second-rate singer has a right to expect from a polite audience; she was listened to with much attention, some applause, but not, after her debut, by very numerous auditors. I was present at her first performance, and immediately discovered Madame C.’s design in engaging an English vocalist who could never be her rival. Mrs. D. only made a very few attempts in Paris, then retired. She was subsequently engaged at Venice, also at one or two other cities in Italy; and on her return to England, was engaged by Mr. Harris, at Covent Garden Theatre, where she made her appearance as Rosina, in Rossini’s Barber of Seville, adapted to English words. In 1818, she finally abandoned all public employment, and shortly after was attacked by a cancerous disease, from which she never recovered, though paralysis was the immediate cause of her death. Mrs. Dickons was much respected by the public, for she maintained a most irreproachable character, and was not less beloved by her friends for all those qualities which contribute so largely to social happiness.

14th. The premium of twenty pounds annually given by the noblemen and gentlemen of the Catch-club, for the best glee, was this day awarded to Mr. Walmisley. The candidates were but few, and the prize was decided by a majority of one vote only; Mr. Walmisley’s composition having nineteen in its favour, and Mr. T. Cooke’s eighteen. None are allowed to become candidates for this prize but the professional members of the club, the competition therefore is confined in a narrow sphere; an evil, certainly, but unavoidable, for were there no limit, more glees would be sent in than could by any possibility be tried without an expense both of time and money that no club could support.

20th. The Directors of the Ancient Concert have announced their determination respecting those performances in future; or at least for next season. The plan and conditions are as follow:—

‘That there be Eight Concerts, to take place every alternate Wednesday from the commencement of the season, with the exception of the usual recess during Passion and Easter weeks.

‘That the Subscription be Six Guineas for Subscribers retaining the privilege of attending Rehearsals; Five Guineas for those who do not.

‘That the transfer of tickets between Father and Sons, and between Brothers, also between Mother and Daughters, and between Sisters, be allowed.

‘That the Subscribers retain the same privilege, as during the present season, of recommending for single tickets for the evening.

‘In order to carry on the Concerts on the same scale as heretofore, and with the same vocal and instrumental power and excellence, it is necessary that the number of Subscribers should not be less than 500. The Directors therefore give notice, that if, on the 1st of February, 1834, the Subscribers reported to Messrs. LONSDALE and MILLS, of 140, New Bond Street, do not amount to that number, the Concerts will be discontinued.’

Let us hope that what is here proposed will be successful in upholding an institution on which the preservation of good music in this country no much depends. To the study of the ancient masters the great modern composers confessedly owed their knowledge; these introduced a new style in instrumental music, undoubtedly, and extended the limits of modulation, but the foundation was prepared for them, and no one has established a permanent reputation who has not built on this. In the words, therefore, of Fra Paoli, I pray for its continuation and prosperity:—Esto perpetua!

FOREIGN MUSICAL REPORT.

VIENNA.

Hofoperntheater.—The opera Ferdinand Cortez has been reproduced, with M. Wild as Telasco, Madame Ernst as Amazily, and M. Breiting as Cortez; the minor characters were also well sustained. Donizetti’s Anna Bolena has also been given, and with even greater success than at the Josephstadttheater.

At the Hofburgtheater a new oratorio by the organist Assmayr has been performed; it displays great ability, and the music is eminently expressive of the words; it was well received.

At the first and second of the Concerts Spirituels have been given a symphony of Mozart composed for the Concerts Spirituels in Paris in the year 1778, Vogler’s overture to Castor and Pollux, a mass by Cherubini, symphony in C minor by Beethoven, chorus from Jephtha by Handel, a new Te Deum, a sterling composition, by Tomascheck, &c. &c. For the third and fourth concerts were announced Beethoven’s symphony in B, the ninth psalm of Fesca, Weber’s Jubilee overture, the Abbé Vogler’s Litany, Mozart’s symphony in E flat

, chorus and fugue from the oratorio Der Tod Jesu by Graun, Beethoven’s festival overture, and the Gloria from the second mass of Cherubini.

The annual concert at the Conservatory of Music, to display the progress of the pupils, took place a short time since, when their performance of Mozart’s symphony in D, and the meritorious efforts of the vocalists, gave great satisfaction.

A concert of a brilliant character was recently given by[Pg 137] the horn virtuoso, M. Lewy; he was assisted by Demlle. Heinefetter, and MM. Thalberg, Titze, Hürt, and Sachner.

Romberg is at present sojourning here, and has played on the violoncello at a concert in the Kärntnerthor Theater. Age seems to have produced no effect upon his mighty powers; his reception was enthusiastic in the extreme.

BERLIN.

Spontini’s opera Alcidor, after an undisturbed repose of many years, was lately reproduced here. Its success was but indifferent, notwithstanding the laudable exertions of the singers and the splendour of the scenery and decorations. Dlle. Gerwer is about to leave us; her place, however, will be supplied, for a short time at least, by Dlle. Heinefetter.

A. M. Liebrecht, aged thirteen years, a pupil of M. C. M. Möser, has given a concert here, showing the degree of perfection to which such a child may attain by assiduous and persevering application; he exhibited an extraordinary mastery over his instrument—the violin. Shortly afterwards M. Wagans gave a concert, at which he played a concerto on the trumpet with a degree of taste and brilliancy calculated to sustain the fame which he has already acquired. Other concerts have been—that of the three brothers Gabrielski, in which two of them distinguished themselves as clever flute players, and the other as an accomplished pianist; and one at the theatre, at which Dlle. Fürst, from Dresden, sang; her voice is rather powerful than sweet, and tolerably flexible.

At the Singing Academy the Passion music of St. Matthew the Evangelist, by Seb. Bach, was performed; and on Good Friday the annual performance of the oratorio Der Tod Jesu took place before a very crowded audience; it was subsequently given in the Garrison Church under the direction of M. Hansmann.

MUNICH.

The performances during the present year have comprised the operas Johann von Paris, Zauberflöte, Figaro, Fra Diavolo, Der Maurer and der Schlosser, (Le Maçon) Die beyden Füchse, Freyschütz, Der Schnee, &c. The management of Baron von Poissl terminated on the 28th February, when he was succeeded by M. Küstner.

STRASBURG.

During the last year it was our good fortune to have a German company, under the direction of M. Carl Bode, exclusively devoted to the opera; and their productions were therefore comparatively of so perfect a nature, that the direction of the French theatre was quite unable to compete with them. They performed during the season, Fidelio, Die Schweizer Familie, Freyschütz, Die Weisse Dame, Preziosa, Die Stumme von Portici, Don Juan, Koskiusko, Der Dorf Barbier, (The Village Barber,) Tancred, Oberon, Das Donauweibchen, (The Nymph of the Danube,) Wiener in Berlin, Der Kleiner Wilddiebe, (the Little Poacher,) Sargin, Zauberflöte, Wilhelm Tell, and Robert der Teufel. Among the company, consisting of about forty members, the most distinguished were Madame Brauer Düringer, whose principal characters were Fidelio, Donna Anna in Die Weisse Frau, Elvira in Die Stumme and in Don Juan, Sophie in Sargin, Mathilde in Wilhelm Tell, Isabelle in Robert der Teufel, and Tancred. She has a powerful, rich voice, which is of extraordinary effect in the concerted pieces, and she sings with much taste. Madame Mayer, too, was delightful as Annchen in Der Freyschütz; in fact, in all the characters which she sustained. Demlle. Liszevsky also called forth great admiration as Emmeline, Agathe, &c; but particularly as Jemmy in Wilhelm Tell, and Alice in Robert der Teufel. M. Wagner, from the Würtzburg Theatre, as principal tenor, was successful in all his efforts; he sang with equal skill and excellence the high part of Sargin and the low one of Don Juan; as Robert and as Arnold, he has few equals. M. Heisel, as second tenor, was not without merit. The other singers were MM. Popp, Netz, Krieg, Fischer, Kaibel, &c. Great credit is due to M. Bode for having by his judicious management cultivated the taste for classical productions.

With regard to the French theatre, as matters were not going on very prosperously, the direction was taken out of the hands of M. Deville, and the company continued to perform to the end of the season on their own account. Under these circumstances, many new operas were not to be expected; one only was given, Auber’s Liebestrank (Le Philtre). The company consisted of Mesdames Lamotte, prima donna, possessing a rich voice, but often out of tune; Langlade, an agreeable second singer and excellent actress, Demouchi and Després; M. Vernet, principal tenor, with a flexible but thin voice. The rest were scarcely above mediocrity, and the wretched apologies for choruses were below criticism.

LEIPZIG.

Under the management of M. Friedrich Seb. Ringelhardt, the Stadttheater has lately enjoyed much of the public favour and patronage; the music director, too, M. Stegmeyer, is an active young man and a thorough musician, and the Regisseur, M. Hauser, who is also a clever musician, is a very good bass singer. M. Eichberger, the tenor, is excellent. Of the female singers of the establishment Madame Steinert ranked first; then came, after the departure of Dlle. Nina Sontag, whose place she supplied, Dlle. Livia Gerhardt. If want of novelty in the productions has been a fault to be imputed to the management, for new operas have been scarce, those which we have had have been given in such a manner as to compensate for what might otherwise have been a matter of regret. For instance while Madame Schroeder was here we had Fidelio, Don Juan, in which she performed Donna Anna, and Otello; she was great in them all and efficiently supported.

Mendelssohn Bartholdy’s overture to Shakspeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, was played for the first time in Leipzig, at a concert for the benefit of the poor, and received with great applause; on the same occasion Beethoven’s symphony in A major was given, and M. Poland played a violin concerto by Pechatschek with delicacy and spirit.

The Euterpe, the season of which is now closed, has given various symphonies, overtures, and concertos. In the last selection were a new symphony of M. F. Kähler, Beethoven’s overture to Egmont, Weber’s overture to Der Beherrscher der Geister, &c.; M. Sipp placed a violin concerto of Rode, and M. Faulmann a concerto of Hummel on the Oboe.

Dlle. Henr. Graban gave a concert on the 21st March to a brilliant audience. The selection was good; among the instrumental pieces was Marschner’s overture to Hans Heiling, which, it is said, will shortly be produced on our boards.

An interesting sacred performance lately took place in St. Peter’s church, conducted by the organist, C. F. Becker; the selection comprised a fugue by Handel, and[Pg 138] fugues and choral subjects with variations by Sebastian Bach.

PRAGUE.

Gretry’s Blaubart (Bluebeard) has been once more produced here for the benefit of M. Strataky, and experienced a favourable reception, notwithstanding the fact that the whole of the characters were not well sustained. Demlle. Lutzer however as Maria was all that could be desired; her voice has acquired increased strength, and she may soon prove a dangerous rival to the gifted Madame Podhorsky. Zampa has also been given again, and Die Unbekannte. The performance of the old opera, Der Lustige Schuster (the Merry Cobbler), was attended with little success. Demlle. Lutzer has lately performed Zerlina in Fra Diavolo, Helena in Das Fraulein am See, Desdemona, Semiramis, the Princess of Navarre, and Camilla in Zampa, in which latter opera she shone particularly.

There has been a concert given by the pianiste Dlle. Nina Trenkler; one by the pupils of the Conservatory of Music; and a third by M. J. B. Hüttner, the professor of that institution: they were all good and attractive.

FRANKFORT.

Aloys Schmidt’s opera, Valeria, was given here for the first time a few weeks ago. Although the opera displays some beautiful original ideas, it also abounds in reminiscences of Beethoven, Cherubini, Mozart, &c.; it was very successful.

CASSEL.

Motives of economy, and the state of affairs in the grand duchy of Hesse-Cassel, have occasioned the breaking up of the musical establishment of the chapel, and the closing of the court theatre. The consequence of this suppression is distressing to the artists, who were quite unprepared for such an event. Our celebrated composer, Spohr, is thus deprived of a very lucrative appointment. The greater part of the performers, instrumental and vocal, are dispersed, and endeavouring to find in the different German courts those resources which they are deprived of here. This is an unfortunate occurrence for the musical art, for the ducal chapel was one of the best-organised establishments in Germany.

WEIMAR.

The celebrated Hummel has just received the decoration of the order of the White Eagle from the hands of the Grand Duke. All Germany applauds this mark of distinction conferred on a great musician who is a living honour to his country. M. Hummel has just set out for London, where he is engaged to direct the German opera at the King’s Theatre. It is said that he is to receive a thousand pounds for his services, and his travelling expenses. [The Weimar editor is much misinformed on this subject.]

MEININGEN.

An opera in two acts by the Ducal music-director Nohr, under the title of Die Wunderbaren Lichter, founded upon a Thuringian tradition, was lately produced here. This is the second great effort of M. Nohr as a composer, and was received with well-merited applause; he was called forward at the conclusion.

BRUNSWICK.

M. Albert Methfessel has, since his appointment as Kapellmeister last year, strained every nerve to raise the opera to a degree of perfection to which we had hitherto been strangers. The prime donne of the grand opera are at present Mesdames Cornet and Franchetti, the former a most delightful and finished bravura singer. The principal tenor is M. Cornet, the idol of the frequenters of the opera, who is not less gifted and accomplished as an excellent dramatic singer than as a sterling good actor.

There is at present here a Dlle. Bertha Lewig, aged fifteen years, a pupil of M. Methfessel, who displays wonderful proficiency on the piano-forte.

BERNBURG.

A series of subscription concerts, which commenced here in December last, terminated on the 9th March; they were under the direction of M. Victor Klauss, a young and talented composer. The principal solo performers were MM. Probst and Fischer, on the violin; M. Wustenhagen, on the clarionet; M. Bosse, sen., on the oboe; M. Klotzsch, on the violoncello; and M. Bosse, jun., on the flute. M. Klauss, too, himself also delighted us with two very excellent performances on the piano-forte. Some overtures and symphonies of Mozart and Beethoven were not only faultless in their performance, but really presented a very rich source of musical enjoyment. The singers consisted of a few members of M. Atmer’s theatrical company, besides some dillettanti of great ability.

ATTENBURG.

The New Dessau Opera Company of M. Jul. Miller, commenced their performances here on the 10th March. The music director, M. Ed. Theile, a pupil of Fried. Schneider’s, is already known to the public as the author of some clever piano-forte composition.

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THE DRAMA.

KING’s THEATRE.

AFTER nearly a season has passed away, in which nothing but old, mostly feeble, operas, filled by second and third-rate performers, have been given to the subscribers—for the public have been too wise to pay their money for nothing,—we all at once find the theatre so crowded with singers that they actually jostle each other in the lobby. When the house stood in need of attraction, when the best management, the utmost activity, would hardly have enabled the lessee to pay his expenses, he furnished neither opera nor singer, ballet nor dancer, that drew enough to meet the rent. When Easter was turned—when that season had arrived in which, if the doors are opened, the house is lighted, and a set of puppets are placed on the stage, multitudes will go to see them—at that season we find a double troupe, and fragments of different operas given on the same night, in order that the performers may have some employment, and not lose their voices for want of use!

On the 27th of April La Cenerentola, one of ROSSINI’s most insipid operas, was performed, Mad. CINTI as Angelina, whose musical and flexible though not strong voice, and refined taste, the result of a perfect knowledge of her art, imparted a charm to what was originally weak and has been hacked for years. DONZELLI was Ramiro,TAMBURINI Dandino, and ZUCHELLI the Magnifico, all of whom sustained their parts well; but the two sisters very nearly spoiled the whole, by the contrast they formed with the rest, and TAMBURINI only reconciled us to his excessive flourishing by the beauty of his voice and intonation.

On Thursday the 2nd of May, Madame PASTA reappeared, after an absence of two seasons, in Anna Bolena, an opera indebted for its continued existence solely to her performance: in ordinary hands it could not have survived one night in London. This admirable performer is just what she was, in person, voice, and action; and we have only to refer our readers to the opinions we have formerly given on the subject, for those entertained by us now. She was received by a crowded house in the warm manner that her great and yet unabated talents gave her a right to expect.

Tancredi was the second opera got up for Madame PASTA, and in this she afforded even more pleasure to real connoisseurs than in the part of Anna Bolena, for the music is not only goad, but to be reckoned among ROSSINI’s best. Her entrata was splendid; the recitative ‘Oh! Patria!’ and aria, ‘Tu che accendi,’ with its popular second movement, were perfect. Madame CINTI’s Amenaide was, as regards singing, not less excellent; and her very different voice, so far from being a disadvantage on the present occasion, operated favourably, by giving a greater individuality to each character. RUBINI’s Argirio was a continued series of roulades, except when, by sudden bursts of his voice, he made those near him start, and by pianos alternating with these, he became inaudible to all but such as he had alarmed by his sforzatos. We have never entertained but one opinion of this singer, who has been so vaunted in the French journals, and find that an able contemporary agrees with us. The Spectator says of this performer, that—

‘Of true feeling he has not a particle. Per esempio—when he visits his daughter in prison and in chains, and she asks—

his reply was delivered with as much indifference and flippancy as if the question had related to the weather, or the last new bonnet; and yet the words are these—

The truth is, that with singers like Rubini, the art of dramatic singing is a mere effort of the muscles; with Pasta, one of the mind.’

ZUCHELLI had but little to do, but did that well. Many changes were made in the opera; original pieces were left out, strange and not appropriate ones put in, just as the caprice of the singers dictated; and the choruses were wretched. Il Pirata, another old opera, is getting up, and this is certainly Bellini’s best work; indeed the only one of his known to this theatre that has the smallest merit.

DRURY LANE THEATRE.

WHAT properly is called the English stage is at its last gasp. Covent Garden is closed except to foreign performers: its company has been obliged to seek refuge in a theatre which most of our provincial towns would scoff at. Mr. Arnold has prudently withdrawn from the Adelphi, and his performers are doing what they can for themselves; that is, just keeping that small house open three times a week. Mr. Morris feels the necessity of closing his doors when the two national theatres, the legitimate, the patent theatres, are opened by foreigners, and nothing but German, or Italian, or French productions heard therein. A Sunday paper of the 5th ult. well observes, speaking of the banishment of the English drama from Covent Garden theatre,—‘This feared event has, at length come to pass. What Laporte means to do with Covent Garden we have not heard; but he is in treaty with Paganini, and we suppose that he will resort to some other foreign performances. It is a singular fact, and it can hardly fail to produce its effect, that OUR NATIONAL DRAMA was finally expelled from one of our great theatres, while “a native of France was its lessee.” What would have been said by the French, if an English actor had been director of the Théâtre Francais, and had adopted measures by which the plays of Corneille, Racine, and Moliere were driven to the Port St. Martin?’ And with what show of reason do certain writers in our journals exclaim against the salaries of English stars, as they are called, when they know, but are silent, that Madame Devrient receives nearly three times as much per night, and Madame Malibran more than seven times, what our first and best performers could ever obtain? Farren, Braham, and Liston, it is said, have, or had, twenty pounds a night: Madame Devrient has at least fifty; and Madame Malibran one hundred and fifty, though she does draw enough to pay her own salary!

On the 1st of May, the Italian opera of BELLINI, La Sonnambula, with English words adapted to it, was pro[Pg 140]duced at this theatre, for the debut of Mad. MALIBRAN. The drama is well known to our readers; the music is of the most flimsy kind, and worthless in every sense of the word, whether as relates to art, or to the theatre. Our English operatic composers have not much distinguished themselves of late, and the undoubted superiority of the German and French schools has generated a taste among all classes in London for foreign music; but this is no reason why anything so feeble as the work now under notice should be patiently listened to, nay applauded. However, we will not waste our reader’s time by further notice of so inferior a production. The acting of Mad. MALIBRAN as the somnambulist, is of a very mixed kind; sometimes she surprises by traits of extraordinary genius, and occasionally she exhibits extravagancies that prove a want of any real knowledge of the first principles of the histrionic art. As a singer, she certainly is much more perfect. Nature has bestowed on her a voice rarely equalled, and education has made her an excellent musician. Her natural taste we believe to be good, but, following the fashion of the day, it has become vitiated, and her ornaments are so redundant as often to be ridiculous. These however, are so nicely executed, that they seduce even the best critics, and lead them to applaud what in their sober senses they could not but disapprove.

Mad. MALIBRAN has since appeared in the English opera The Devil’s Bridge, as Count Belino, and if her roulades, her admirably performed freaks, are absurd in Italian arias, how much more so in English songs! She entirely failed in this attempt, and though the opera was performed a second time, the public, prejudiced though they now are in favour of foreigners, whatever their pretensions, could not be brought to witness another such performance.

Beethoven’s Fidelio has been produced here, Mad. SCHRŒDER DEVRIENT and M. HAITZINGER in the characters they sustained so well last year at the King’s Theatre. The number of subscription and benefit concerts which we feel it a duty to attend, have prevented our yet being present at the performance of this opera at Drury Lane.

THE MUSIC OF THE PRESENT NUMBER.

WHO the composer is of the trio, ‘Like a bright cherub,’ has long been a matter of dispute, and the point most likely will never now be settled by any decisive proof. The question, however, lies in a narrow compass, for it is agreed that to either Handel or John Christopher Smith [57] the work belongs. Prevailing opinion ascribes it to the former, and we believe correctly, judging from internal evidence as well as traditional testimony. Gideon, the oratorio of which it forms a part, was a pasticcio, a selection of music by various authors, adapted to a dramatic poem by Smith, but when and where performed the most diligent inquiry has not enabled us to ascertain; in fact, no record whatever of it seems to be in existence; it was never published, and we cannot learn that a copy of it remains. The trio now inserted is the only part of it that ever came under our view, and was printed some fifty years ego by Birchall, about the time when sung at the Ancient Concerts. The sweet melody of this, and its effective simplicity when the three parts come together, ought to recommend it to private musical parties.

The aria by Mozart is No. 20 of his thirty Gesaenge, or detached airs not appertaining to any of his operas, published by Breitkopf and Härtel, at Leipzig.

The two movements by Avison are from his fourth Concerto, Book IV.—a beautiful and clever composition, still performed at the Ancient Concerts, and always with applause. To these we may apply an observation which appears in Avison’s Preface to his Concertos,—‘If music be composed agreeably to principles founded in nature, the true judge of harmony always approves it, whatever name, style, or national character it bears.’

The aria, as he calls it, of Beethoven, is one of the most exquisite morceaux of this great master. There is a calm dignity in it which excites a wish that it had been set to words—to poetry worthy of it. The two variations, selected from many, are not less striking proofs of the richness of his fancy.

The song by Labarre is from a recent number of La Revue Musicale. The originality of this recommended it to us, and will, we have no doubt, be apparent to all; though some may at first think it rather too elaborate for a chanson. It will, however, be more admired the more it is known.

[Pg 141]

JULY, 1833.

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF JOHN TRAVERS, WILLIAM HAYES, MUS. D., THOMAS SAUNDERS DUPUIS, MUS. D., AND EDMUND AYRTON, MUS. D.

JOHN TRAVERS received his musical education in St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, and having gained the good will of Dr. Godolphin, Dean of St. Paul’s and Provost of Eton College, was by him put apprentice to Dr. Greene. About the year 1725 he succeeded Kelway as organist of St. Paul’s, Covent Garden, and subsequently became organist of Fulham. On the decease of Jonathan Martin, in 1737, Travers was appointed organist of the Chapels Royal, when he relinquished his situation at Fulham. He died in 1758, and his successor in the King’s Chapel was Dr. Boyce.

‘Travers,’ says Sir John Hawkins, who knew him well, ‘was a sound musician; he commenced an early acquaintance with Dr. Pepusch, and received some assistance from him in the course of his studies, which by sedulous application he was very careful to improve. In the Chapel books are sundry anthems of his composition; but as composer he is best known to the world by eighteen Canzonets, being verses and songs taken from the posthumous works of Prior, which he set for two and three voices, in a style as elegant as it is original. Besides these he published the whole book of Psalms for one, two, three, four, and five voices, with a thorough-bass for the harpsichord [58].’

Dr. Burney, speaking of Travers, says, ‘His compositions, however pure the harmony, can only be ranked with pieces of mechanism, which labour alone may produce, without the assistance of genius [59]’. But this criticism is no less inconsiderate than severe. To his compositions for the church it may apply, but his canzonets—many of them at least—have stood the test of time, and, popular as they were when first brought forth, are still as much as ever admired for their genius, their originality, as well as their beauty and contrivance, by all impartial judges of English music; among whom Dr. Burney certainly cannot properly be reckoned, so strong were his prejudices in favour of the Italian school; though latterly the German composers, Haydn especially, had some share of his esteem.

In Arnold’s Collection of Cathedral Music, are a Morning Service, a Te Deum, and one Anthem, by Travers, which do not exhibit any creative powers: his best sacred composition is the anthem, ‘Ascribe unto the Lord,’ and this is still occasionally performed in the King’s Chapel.

WILLIAM HAYES, Doctor in Music, was born at Gloucester, in 1707, and giving early proofs of a musical disposition, was admitted a chorister of the cathedral, under Mr. Hine, the organist, where as a boy he early distinguished himself as a solo singer, and soon arrived at a high degree of excellence as an organ-player. On quitting Gloucester, he was appointed organist of Shrewsbury, and shortly afterwards succeeded to the same situation in the Cathedral of Worcester. But after the lapse of a few years, a vacancy occurring in the office of organist and master of the choristers at Magdalen College, Oxford, he obtained that appointment, which having been the ultimate object of his ambition, he retained till his death. In 1735 he proceeded to a Bachelor’s degree in music, and some years after, on the death of Mr. Goodson, was elected Professor of Music to the University. On the opening of the Radcliffe Library, in 1749, he was honoured with a doctor’s degree, to which he was presented by Dr. Bradley, Savilian Professor of Astronomy, who, in an elegant Latin speech, represented him not only as a man eminent in his faculty, but as possessed of other estimable qualities, among which sweetness of temper was mentioned as not the least remarkable.

In 1753 Dr. Hayes published his ‘Remarks on Mr. Avison’s Essay on Musical Expression,’ which were drawn from him in consequence of what he considered a covert attack on Handel by the author of that well-known, and in many respects able, critical work; but he here manifested more knowledge of his subject than control of temper; and his observations,—though many of them are very just, while some are rather hypercritical,—lose much of their force from the asperity of language in which they were uttered, a fault only to be accounted for, in one of so mild a disposition, from his enthusiastic admiration of the illustrious composer whom he vindicated.

On the establishment of the Catch-Club, Dr. Hayes, in 1773, obtained three out of the six prizes given that year, one of his successful compositions being that exquisitely beautiful but brief piece of simple counterpoint, the Glee, ‘Melting airs soft joys inspire.’ This, and the lovely Round, ‘Wind, gentle evergreen,’ are enough to transmit his name to posterity, had he produced nothing else; but his Cathedral Music in Score, comprising a full service and upwards of twenty anthems, published after his decease by his son, Dr. Philip Hayes, will continue to be highly valued so long as this species of composition shall continue in use. His Canon, ‘Let’s drink, and let’s sing together,’ is mentioned by Dr. Burney (in Rees’ Cyclopædia) as ‘the most pleasant of those laboured compositions which go under the name of Canon.’

Dr. Hayes, after suffering three years from the effects of a paralytic stroke, died in 1777, and was succeeded in all his appointments at Oxford by his above-mentioned son [60].

THOMAS SAUNDERS DUPUIS, Doctor in Music, was in 1733 born in this country, though his parents were natives of France. His father held some situation at court under George II., and this probably was the reason why his son was placed in the Chapel Royal. The first rudiments of his education were received from Mr. Gates. He afterwards became a pupil of Travers, at that time organist of the King’s Chapel, and for whom, in the early part of his life, he officiated as deputy.

‘On the death of Dr. Boyce, in 1779, Mr. Dupuis was appointed organist and composer to the Chapel Royal; and it is probable that the Bishop of London (Lowth) never exercised his taste and judgment more properly than by nominating so worthy a man to so respectable a situation.’ Bingley’s Musical Biography, ii. 215.

In 1784 he was named as one of the assistant-directors of the Commemoration of Handel; and in 1790 was admitted to the degree of Doctor in Music by the University of Oxford. He died in consequence of taking an excessive dose of opium, at his house in Park Lane, on the 17th of June, 1796. His successors were Mr. Knyvett, senior, as organist of the Royal Chapels, and Mr. Attwood as composer to his Majesty.

Dr. Dupuis published several compositions, among which his Organ Pieces and two Sets of Chants are the most valuable; but his reputation is more permanently based on his services and anthems, written for the use of the King’s Chapel, a selection of which was printed after his death, in two handsome volumes, by his pupil and friend, John Spencer, Esq., son-in-law and nephew to the late Duke of Marlborough. These consist of four Services, and fourteen Anthems in score; and in Page’s Harmonia Sacra are two other of his Anthems, ‘The Lord, even the most mighty God,’ and ‘I cried unto the Lord,’ which were published during the life of the author.

Great knowledge and taste are more conspicuous in Dr. Dupuis’ compositions than any very great brilliancy of genius; but they are by no means deficient in invention, though this was curbed by his devotedness to the school of music in which he had been educated, and of which he was to the last a most uncompromising defender. His Services, particularly those in E flat and C, are as beautiful in melody, as they are skilful, considered as specimens of writing in parts. Of his anthems, ‘The souls of the righteous,’ ‘Bow down thine ear,’ and ‘Be thou my judge,’ will long continue as records of his ability as a harmonist; and ‘The Lord is my shepherd,’ ‘Lord, what love have I unto thy law,’ together with ‘Teach me, O Lord,’ can never cease to please the admirers of graceful, flowing air. As a performer on the organ, he was excelled by no Englishman of his time; his extemporaneous fugues were the admiration of all lovers of this kind of music, and drew multitudes to hear him at the conclusion of the service at the Royal Chapel.

Dr. Dupuis was a most worthy and amiable man, successful in worldly matters, but unfortunate in his family. He followed his eldest son (a clergyman) to the grave, and bequeathed a handsome fortune to an only remaining one, who thoughtlessly dissipated the whole of it in his power, and died at an early age.

EDMUND AYRTON, Doctor in Music,—who closes the list of Masters of the children of the Chapels Royal, to the end of the eighteenth century [61],—‘was born in 1734, at Ripon, of which borough his father was an active and upright magistrate, whose three immediate ancestors held, successively, the livings of Nidd and Stainley, within the liberty of that town. He was intended for the church, and received his education at the free grammar-school of his native place, where, during five years, he was a contemporary of Beilby Porteus, afterwards bishop of London. But his father, finding it prudent to indulge his son’s natural inclination for music, placed him under the instruction of Dr. Nares, then organist of the cathedral of York. At an early age he was elected organist, auditor, and rector chori of the collegiate church of Southwell, in Nottinghamshire, where he married a lady of good family. He quitted that place in 1764, upon being appointed gentleman of the Chapel Royal; shortly after which he was installed a vicar-choral of St. Paul’s Cathedral, and subsequently became one of the lay-clerks of Westminster Abbey.

‘In 1780 he was promoted, by Bishop Lowth, to the office of master of the children of his Majesty’s Chapels, on the resignation of his friend Dr. Nares. In 1784 the University of Cambridge conferred on him the degree of Doctor in Music; and some time after he was admitted ad eundem by the University of Oxford. His exercise was a grand anthem, for a full orchestra, which merited and gained so much praise, that it was ordered to be performed, with a complete band, in St. Paul’s Cathedral, on the 29th of July, 1784, the day of the General Thanksgiving for the peace. This was afterwards published in score. In the same year he was chosen one of the assistant-directors of the Commemoration of Handel, in Westminster Abbey, which situation he filled at all the succeeding performances in that venerable building, and took a very active part in their management. In 1805 he relinquished the mastership of the children of the Chapel, and was succeeded by John Stafford Smith, Esq., having been allowed for many years previous to perform the duties of his other appointments by deputy. He died in 1808, and his remains were deposited in the cloisters of Westminster Abbey, near those of his wife and several of his children.

‘Dr. Ayrton was an excellent musician, of which his compositions for the church bear indubitable evidence [62]. The performance of these has been chiefly confined to the Royal Chapel, but the publication of them, which has long been expected, would usefully augment the musical resources of our various choirs, and add greatly to the reputation of their author.’ (Dictionary of Musicians.)

[Pg 143]

HARMONICS OF THE VIOLIN.

IN the Westminster Review for last January, is an article, under the above title, which, judging from its clearness and simplicity, we are inclined to believe must have proceeded from the very able pen of the critic who recently reviewed in that work the scientific and clever treatise on the Enharmonic Guitar [63].

The author, wishing to render the doctrine of harmonics comprehensible to persons of all capacities, has imitated, in a very felicitous manner, the style of a writer who, whatever opinion may be entertained of him in other respects, allowedly has the art of making himself understood by every one, however difficult or intricate the matter on which he treats; and in a letter written as if from Mr. Cobbett to his son, has given an intelligibility to the subject which it never before received, insomuch that we are tempted to exceed the limits of a quotation, and, for the benefit of such of our readers as do not see the Westminster Review, borrow more largely from the pages of that very able periodical than is usual, hoping that the liberal spirit of its proprietors will not accuse us of piracy, and summon us into the awful presence of the Keeper of the King’s Conscience.

‘My dear little Son,

‘You are to get your bread by playing on the violin. It will therefore be exceedingly useful to you to know all that can be known about the harmonic notes; by which means you may not only get your bread, but be able to secure its being well buttered also. A violin-player is worth a great deal more when he knows all about the harmonic notes; and in fact, since the appearance of Paganini, the chances are, that a player who does not know it will be worth nothing at all.

‘Do you know what an aliquot part is? I am sure you do not. If you have a cake or an apple, and divide it equally among your companions, whether they be two, three, four, or any other number, then the thing is said to be divided into aliquot parts,—“aliquot” being a word in the old Latin language meaning “some certain number or other,” and implying here that the thing is divided into equal parts of “some certain number or other.” But if you were to divide it among the same so that their shares should not be all alike,—or if you were to give each an equal piece, but there should be a piece left after all which was not equal to one of the pieces you had given away, but was greater or less,—then the thing would be divided into parts, but not into aliquot parts. Now then, my dear little son, you know what is meant by dividing a string into aliquot parts.

‘Tell me now, how you would begin to show me the different places in which a string can be divided into aliquot parts. You would first show me the middle point, which divides it into two equal parts. Then you would divide the string, with your eye or with a pair of compasses, into three equal parts, and show me the two points of division between them. Next you would divide it in the same way into four equal parts, and show me the three points of division. And so on, for five, six, seven, eight, and as many more as you liked to continue. These, then, you would say,—both those I have made and those I might make if I liked—are the points that divide the string into aliquot parts. And if you pleased, you might mark them by writing under each point of division the figure which shows how many equal parts the string is divided into,—as for instance a 2 under the point where the string is divided into two, a 3 under each of the points which divide it into three, and so on. And indeed it will be better that you should do this; for then you cannot help observing, that sometimes more figures than one will fall on the same place—as for instance when the string is divided into four, one of the marks 4 will fall on the same place as the division into 2; when it is divided into six, one of the marks 6 will fall on the same place that was previously marked 2, and two more on places that were marked 3; and so on. All of which will be wanted another time.

‘Now if you touch the string gently with the finger at the distance of any aliquot part from the bridge, (mind I said from the bridge, not at any of the divisions into aliquot parts, but at the distance of one of them from the bridge,) and at the same time pull the string or draw the bow across between this point and the bridge, you will see a curious thing. The string will divide itself into all the aliquot parts of which the point touched by the finger makes one,—into two, or into three, or into four, as the case may be,—and every one of them will move by itself, as if it was a little string held fast at the two ends; the sound produced being the same that would be made by pressing the string down to the neck at the point touched, in the common way. If the divisions are few, as two or three, this may be seen distinctly enough by the eye: but where this is not the case, it may be shown to be the fact by laying a little bit of paper on the string while it is sounded; and if this is laid on any of the points of division into aliquot parts, whether on the one nearest the bridge or any of its fellows, it will lie still and not be thrown off, but if it is laid anywhere else, it will be thrown off directly, which shows that the points of division are at rest, and the others are not.

‘If you want to know how or why this curious thing takes place, I will tell you as nearly as I can; but remember I do not pledge myself that this is the reason, but only that I think it very likely to be the reason, and this principally because I know no other way in which it can be brought about. And this way is, that when one portion of the string is moving in one direction, as for instance from me towards you, the next portion of the string is moving at the same time in the contrary direction, or from you to me; and so with the other portions, whatever their number may be. In this manner it seems possible that the points of division should be kept at rest, and in any other manner it seems to be not possible; and therefore, since the fact is before us that the points of division remain at rest, I conclude that it is in this way it takes place. This is what the feelosofers would call a syllogism. And because this sort of balance can only be kept up by the portions of the string moving backwards and forwards (which the same sort of people call vibrating) in equal times or with equal quickness, and this again cannot take place unless the moving portions of the string are of equal length,—it follows that this sort of motion in parts or portions of the string can only take place when those parts or portions are of equal length, which seems to be the reason why the experiment will only answer when the point touched is one that divides the string into aliquot parts.

‘But this is not all; for there is a more curious thing still. And that is, that if you touch the string at any other of the points of division into aliquot parts, (by which I mean any other than the point of division nearest to the bridge,) the string will divide itself in the self-same way,—always with the exception (now mind the exception) of the cases in which the point touched falls in with a point in some simpler mode of division that has gone before. For instance, you remember observing, that when the string was divided into four equal parts, one of the points[Pg 144] marked 4 fell on the same place as the division into 2. Touching the string therefore in this place must make the same sound it did before; which is a different sound from that which it makes when touched at the other two points of division into 4. And in like manner in other cases. But when this agreement with some simpler mode of division does not interfere, all the points of division on being touched produce the same sound. For example, if the division be into five equal parts, inasmuch as none of these will coincide with any of the simpler modes of division, there must be four points in the string, any one of which being touched will produce the same harmonic sound.

‘But if you want to know how and why this still more curious thing takes place, I can only tell you in a roundabout sort of way as before. If you divide the string, for example, into five equal parts, and touch any of the four points of division you choose, you check and finally prevent the continuance of any motion at the point touched, though at the same time it would appear that the touching (which, to make the experiment answer, must be very light) is not enough to hinder the shaking, or, as the learned people call it, the vibration, given at one end, from being communicated past the point of touch. If, instead of touching the string lightly, you were to lay hold of it with a pair of pincers, then the experiment would fail altogether; the reason of which may be concluded to be, because the motion is presented from being at all communicated beyond the point laid hold of. In fact the art,—for there is an art in everything, from scraping the grains off a cob of Indian corn to sounding a musical string, whatever the difference in importance and dignity of the two things may be,—appears to consist in touching the string in such a manner, and with such a degree of pressure, as shall allow the motion given by pulling or bowing to be communicated past the finger, and yet shall check and finally prevent the continuance of all motion, or, as it was called before, vibration, that is not consistent with the point which is touched remaining at rest. Now if you consider carefully, you will see that the only way in which motion can go on and this point remain at rest, is by the string’s dividing itself into the five equal portions, the movements of which shall balance each other as before described. It does not indeed follow, that because the motion could go on no other way, it must necessarily go on in this; but we have the evidence of the fact that it does go on in this; and the knowledge of the reasons why it could not go on in any other is at all events very useful to make us remember what the effect is that is produced, and how.

‘The next thing is to be able to tell what all the sounds thus produced are. Now you remember that when you were a very little boy, I showed you, that if you stop a string by pressing it down hard in the middle you produce its Octave; where the two sounds (of the original string and its half) are such sounds as are produced by a man and a child when they sing the same tune together, but in very different pitches of voice;—that if, instead of shortening the string in this manner by the half, you shorten it by a third part, you produce the sound which musicians have called the Fifth; if you shorten it by a fourth part, you produce the Fourth; if by the fifth part, the Major Third; if by the sixth part, the Minor Third; with a great deal more which it is not necessary to mention now;—and I told you, too, that the intervals from one of these sounds to another were not the same, or such as to allow of beginning on any you please and making the others serve in the places they happen to fall in, which is attempted to be done by what is called Temperament, a thing that you as a violin player should hold in as much scorn, as an invitation to cut off your two legs for the sake of trying how pleasant it is to hop on wooden ones. If then you want to know what sound any of the harmonics really is, you have only to do this;—double the distance from the bridge to the nearest of the points of division into aliquot parts, over and over, till you get to some length that when pressed down in the common way makes a note which you know, as the Octave, the Fifth, &c.; and then the harmonic will be this note, only raised by as many octaves as there have been doublings. For example, if you touch the thickest or G string of the violin so as to bring out the harmonic at one-fifth of its length from the bridge, and want to know what note this is,—doubling this length once makes two-fifths of the whole string, and doubling it again makes four-fifths, and four-fifths pressed down in the common way make the Major Third or B; therefore the harmonic produced is B two octaves higher than the B on the thickest string, or the same sound as the first B on the thinnest or E string. And in like manner in other cases.

‘The examination of all the different possible harmonic notes might evidently be carried a long way; and it would be very useful to do it if you were intended for a trumpeter, for all the notes on the trumpet or French horn are harmonic notes. But for playing on the violin, as much as is given above appears to be sufficient. It will enable you to trace all the principal harmonic sounds, and in fact all that on the violin are of any practical use; for though there is no absolute end of the number of harmonic notes, inasmuch as you may divide the string into a hundred parts if you please, and then into a hundred-and-one,—yet after the division into five or into six, the sounds on the violin become so feeble as to be of no use except as matters of experiment and curiosity. And it will have this further good effect, that it will make you cease to marvel and to wonder at finding the harmonic sounds on the same string grow sometimes deeper and sometimes shriller, as you move your finger from the bridge towards the head,—as if there was some mystery in it that anybody could not learn in half an hour when they set about it properly.

‘Suppose now you could stop some tune (as for instance “God save the King”) on one string of the violin, as for example the fourth, with your first or second finger, and at the same time always touch the stopped string gently with the little finger of the same hand at one quarter of the way to the bridge so as to bring out the harmonic note;—is it not plain that you would play the tune, only in the Double Octave, or two octaves higher than if played by the simple stopping on the fourth string? There is no doubt that this is very hard, especially for a little boy; it is almost as bad as playing on two violins at once. But still the thing can be done. And if, instead of touching with the little finger at the quarter of the way to the bridge, you should touch at the third, the fifth, or the sixth of the way, you would bring out notes that were not Double Octaves to the sound that would be made by simply pressing down the first finger, but other sounds, which you have it in your power to calculate; all of which might by possibility be very useful, but the other was mentioned as being the simplest. If you asked me what is the use of playing anything in Double Octaves in this manner, or in any other of the harmonic notes,—I should answer, First, because these harmonic notes have a very fine and pure sound,—they do not squall like the sounds made by pressing the strings to the finger-board very near the bridge;—Secondly, because it is much easier to make the sounds in tune in this manner, than by trying to make them by stopping near the bridge,—for where the string is so short, the smallest error in the stopping becomes sensible in proportion;—Thirdly, because (as it is not necessary to be always playing in harmonics) they may be mixed up with the common notes of the violin, and save an immensity of trouble in jumping from one end of the instrument to the other to find the high notes. Look, for instance, at an old-fashioned fiddler playing on the second string, and wanting (suppose) A in alto; and see what a leap he will make to find it on the first string, and what a horrible screech he will bring out after all, when he might produce the note in the most perfect tune and tone by only touching the second open string that he is on already, harmonically at a fourth of the way from the head to the bridge, or at the same place that he would stop D on the second string.’

[Pg 145]

MELODY AND HARMONY [64].

THE object and end of all music is the expression and excitement of passion, of which its notes are the signs. The practice of music doubtless shows best how powerful are these signs over the production of corresponding passions; but its theory also, in the hands of some writers, has even indicated the precise and simple expressions which respectively belong to some of the passions.

Now we know that two passions cannot coexist in the mind, except at the expense of their respective continuity, depth, and intensity. It follows, of course, that their corresponding signs cannot coexist in the ear without breaking and enfeebling their expression.

But melody consists of a succession of simple sounds, and harmony of coexistant and related or concordant sounds. It is obvious, therefore, that melody is alone adapted to the expression of passion—that is, to musical expression.

A moment’s reflection, indeed, will show that, in language, it would not be more absurd to endeavour to express or excite passion by means of the related terms, emotion, sentiment, &c., or to express and excite any one passion, as that of love, by means of the related terms, friendship, affection, &c., than it would, in music, be to endeavour to excite any passion, in all its purity, simplicity, continuity, depth, and intensity, by means of impure, compound, broken, and feeble notes.

Which, accordingly, are the nations that have excelled in melody?—The Italians, the Scots, the Irish, in whom the passions are intense and powerful; while the Sclavonic and Gothic tribes, in whom the passions are feeble, have practised that play upon related notes which indicates the weakness or absence of passion, and which constitutes harmony. There can, I think, be no more striking illustration than this at once of the intimate nature and of the relative value of melody and harmony.

To the superior value of melody, however, similar homage is paid, whether reluctantly or not, in the highest productions of scientific music. Whenever, in the opera, sentiment, affection, or passion has to be expressed, the simple melody of the airs is indispensable. If anything were wanting to corroborate the preceding train of reasoning, this surely is sufficient.

Let us now, however, from principles which regard the intimate nature of melody and harmony, as well as their precise relation to the great end of all music, descend to the mere practical observance of the relative effects of melody and harmony.

Here one thing will, at the first, strike those who are in the habit of paying any attention to the operation of their own minds, and of endeavouring to analyse it. It is this, that, while there is no end to the variety which the simplest melodies produce, there is but one sentiment excited by harmony.

However varied the melody may be, whatever the succession of emotion and passion which it calls up, it will be found that, with each of these, and always at its expense, the harmony, quoad harmony, associates another, and that always one and the same, feeling. This, if observed, will be found to be a feeling of surprise, and certainly of pleasure, at the display of knowledge in the instant association of related notes; surprise and pleasure at the art and skill, not at the feeling and taste, of the composer [65].

The compositions of Handel, Bach, and others, are admirable in their kinds and perfectly descriptive; but they touch not the most exquisite feelings; they sink not into the heart; they rouse not the passions. They excite, as already said, surprise and pleasure at the art and skill, not at the feeling and taste, of the composer. Let them be compared in this respect with Sarti, Cimarosa, &c., and all doubt on this point will cease.

It is evident, then, that the admiration, however delightful, produced by the instant and unexpected association of related notes, must, precisely in proportion to its degree, weaken and diminish the effect of the melody—must, in fact, destroy its purity, simplicity, continuity, depth, and intensity.

It is, perhaps, scarcely a less fatal objection to the indiscriminate practice of harmony, that even the restricted pleasure which it conveys is, from want of education in this peculiar art, incapable of being at all enjoyed by the vast majority of hearers.

The best practical illustration, indeed, of the relative value of melody and harmony arises from observing their effects on the mind and the expression of the features. The English people, being chiefly of Gothic origin, have a fair capability of apprehending coexisting related sounds, and their conduct while hearing them will furnish this illustration.

Let any one, then, observe the effect of these sounds in the finest harmonies produced at our Opera-house. An affected look of knowingness, an insincere grin, passes from one face to another, and occasionally, when some one who really understands the matter gives a bold and loud rap with his stick,—believing that there must now certainly be something very fine, they very innocently break into a long paroxysm of applause, and they repeat this as often as the courageous fellow with the stick chooses to give them the signal, each secretly thinking how devilish stupid he must be not really to enjoy what everybody else is so highly delighted with.

See, however, the same faces when a simple melody breaks out from the chaos of the harmony: waiting for no prompter, pleasure instantly beams on every face, and truth and nature have a triumph in that deep and universal sympathy which art and affectation are utterly incapable of achieving.

The practice of harmony has, indeed, been borrowed by us from the boors of Russia, Bohemia, and Swabia, whose[Pg 146] broad and flat configuration of head seems to be as much connected with this practice as their coldness and apathy are utterly opposed to musical feeling, which has no existence independent of passion.

So natural and universal is melody, that even many quadrupeds are powerfully affected by it, while not one seems to be influenced by harmony.

Such then is the kind of music which, originally borrowed from these boors, the influence of a few amateurs has rendered fashionable among the half-civilized people of Europe,—for we must call those half-civilized who have no perception of the fundamental necessity and transcendent beauty of simplicity in all the fine arts, those sole tests of the highest civilization.

In Greece, where alone those arts reached the highest perfection, the purest simplicity characterized every one of their productions; and there, accordingly, harmony—as in general a complex and idle decoration, in no way promoting expression, the end of music, but, on the contrary, defeating its purpose, was, we are told, absolutely proscribed.

Even if this fact had not been recorded, the slightest knowledge of the genius of Grecian art would prove that it must have been so; and we might as safely have predicted that they no more loaded their melodies with Gothic or Sclavonic harmonies than their temples with Gothic traceries [66].

The analogy is perfectly strict; for these gingerbread traceries are not more unproductive of great or good effect than harmonies are; nor are the barn-like temples which they cover more ugly in their general form than the meagre airs which harmonies are intended to decorate.

But this is not all. Not only are the airs which harmonies are intended to decorate generally meagre and worthless, it would appear that no other airs than those are fit for conjunction with harmonies. It is certainly true that, whenever the apathetic Germans have attempted to harmonize the impassioned airs and exquisite melodies of Scotland and Ireland, they have ruined them, and disgusted every person of pure and natural taste.

The purpose, then, to which harmony is applicable is not to the expression of pure, simple, continuous, deep, and intense passion—the very highest purpose of musical expression,—but to the expression either of the slightly modified and less definite feelings, or of the more variable, and even jarring sentiments of several persons, purposes far inferior to the former.

It is evident that, where several persons express musically somewhat similar sentiments on the same subject, they may naturally sing in harmony; and where these sentiments occur at intervals of time slightly extended, they may even be supposed to chant in that regulated succession which constitutes fugue. Hence harmony is peculiarly suited to many voices, where deep pathos and passion are impossible; and it is an abuse to apply it to the higher species of music.

It is evident, too, that, in descriptive or epic music, harmony may form the background of the picture—the accompaniment of the narration,—in the front of which some kind of melody appears; and of this the most admirable examples are to be found in the works of Beethoven, the most profound and philosophical of composers. But whoever mistakes this for the highest species of music is not in a condition to understand the present paper.

It is in fact, the absence of pathos and passion among the Gothic races of modern Europe, that has led to the substitution of harmony for melody. At the same time, their excellence in mechanical invention has enabled them greatly to improve instruments, which, however suited to the former, are incapable of the feeling and the meaning, the expression and the delicacy, which essentially belong to the latter. And again, the deficiency of instruments in these most important qualities has led to those strong basses and accompaniments which fill up the vacuity. Music, consequently, has sometimes degenerated into a series of tricks which do not rank above rope-dancing or the ballet.

One word may now properly be added on instrumental accompaniments. They are the natural resource of performers who are destitute either of feeling or of voice. They may be comparatively beautiful when associated with these, but they are absolutely offensive when they interfere with the expression of deep feeling by a beautiful voice.

The best instrumental accompaniment is consequently that which least interferes with the voice—not the continuous sounds of wind or bowed instruments (for their music is rather the poor unfeeling substitute for, than the accompaniment of, fine vocal music), but the light touch of the string of the harp, the guitar, or the lyre, which, while it verifies the accuracy, least interferes with the feeling of vocal expression.

Hence the great masters of art, the Greeks, employed so simple an instrument as the guitar (their κιθαρα being obviously its original), or the lyre, which appears to have been simpler and better still. I rejoice, therefore, to see the former becoming as fashionable in England as it has long been on the Continent.

[A specimen of criticism from the most esteemed and widely-circulated musical journal of Germany, will not be uninteresting to our readers. The beauty of M. Mendelssohn’s overture has excited in M. Fink’s mind a lively recollection of Shakspeare’s most fanciful drama, and almost turned the brain of the critic. He has wrought himself into a belief that music is equal to language in the power of describing. His reverie is amusing; but the intimate acquaintance he manifests with the works of our great dramatic poet, is a circumstance more gratifying to us than all the sallies of his imagination.]

Overture to Shakspeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, composed by Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy, arranged as a Duet for the Piano-Forte, by the composer.[Pg 147] (Property of the publishers.) Leipzig. Published by Breitkopf and Härtel. Pr. 1 Thaler.

The same Composition arranged for the Piano-Forte (for one performer) by F. Mockwitz.

IT was announced last year in one of the numbers of this publication that the orchestral parts of this excellent work had appeared at the above publisher’s; and we then expressed our regret that they should have been published without the score, for want of which the overture could not be reviewed. Up to the present time we have not relaxed in our endeavours to meet with the score, but we have been unsuccessful. This would have been a matter of still deeper regret to us if we had not had the good fortune to hear the overture, the arrangements of which are lying before us, played by our orchestra, which, at the first performance, got through the difficult composition in such a delightful manner, that a tolerably distinct impression of it remained upon our mind, which, upon looking over and playing the two clever arrangements, is powerfully called back to our memory. From the impression produced by the instrumental performance, and from these two published arrangements, we cannot but give the palm to this production of the persevering young composer, as evincing a greater degree of ability and genius than any other of his works with which we are acquainted.

Tones of simple melody seem to float, like soft and delicate whispers, through the shadows of night. It seems as though something mystic were approaching, from the distance shrouded in darkness, which suddenly settles like a gleam of moonshine on the desired spot. Now gentle and vigorous sounds alternate, as though a power of both those characters, veiled in the misty clouds, were at hand; and in a chord of silvery softness, Titania beckons her fairy followers, who, forthwith forming in couples, wind through the silent wood in fantastic twirling dances. Here, detaching themselves from their companions, a diminutive elfin couple creep into a polished acorn-cup, and sing in delicate fairy strains to the elegant movements of the rest. Pea-blossom, Mustard-seed, Moth, and Cobweb, are there among the busy revellers in the moonshine; and there is such a twirling and flirting, and rustling and glitter, that one would fain be present at the nuptial revels of the bright-helmed Theseus, were it even in the capacity of a tinker. Anon somebody trips in with a prying look, softly and slyly, as though he were plotting mischief; and this personage is no other than Friend Oberon, attended by his roguish Puck, projecting a little spell to punish his refractory consort. And lo! on a sudden, matters become coarsely real and corporeal. The ‘rude mechanicals’ are about to rehearse their ‘most lamentable comedy’ in the wood; and the lovers are eloping, because the cruel father will not let his daughter marry him she loves. The night is as busy and full of life as though it were open day, and a legato cantabile, keeping up the character of the scene, expresses the impassioned prayer of the maiden, exhausted by her flight, imploring that she may be allowed to slumber undisturbed on the mossy rock. In the foreground beneath the trees the mechanics are rehearsing their drama, each according to his part; Oberon surveys unseen the strange performance, and gives his commands to the sly Puck. The scene is now one of wonderful bustle and confusion; mortals rehearse and elves dance, Oberon smiles, and Puck, ever frolicsome and mischievous, returning, dives through the dewy atmosphere and presents to his radiant master the magic floweret, Love in idleness, whose penetrating juice changes the wise to stupid and the stupid into wise. This is, between ourselves, the very flower which, among other things, is the cause that the most shallow effusions thus metamorphosed are the most assiduously read and strummed. Dip them in the water, their element, and Puck’s observation is perfectly legible upon their hairy foreheads—

It is only a pity that the wag should always mistake his man, and, instead of the right, invariably hit upon the wrong! But for the rest, this is after all of little consequence; for in a genuine Midsummer Night’s Dream it is proper that all things should be at cross purposes, and yet so clearly defined, that in the confusion we may distinguish the forms of the beings composing it. And here the great charm is that this is just the case in this instance. Oh! what a delightful thing is a merry dream! Suddenly the chord of the diminished seventh, that pliant and accommodating harmony, accompanied by rumbling bases, resounds through the busy scene, and one may fancy Quince exclaiming, ‘Bless thee, Bottom, bless thee, thou art translated!’ No matter! it is rather a piece of good fortune for Bottom. Although the scared artisans run off at the sight of his monstrous head, the slumbering Titania, being also under the spell of the magic floweret, on awaking beholds the transformed wight; and oh! how beautiful and intellectual does she find the agreeable beast! how lovingly does she caress him! The sprightly elves are ordered to dance to her long-eared darling, and Pea-blossom to scratch his lovely little head. Theseus now approaches with his queen of the Amazons and train of huntsmen to the sound of the horns and the barking of dogs. Things now begin to assume a clearer aspect; Bottom too is disenchanted, and it seems as if the clowns were playing Pyramus and Thisbe at the wedding. Bottom roars so that the duke says, ‘Let him roar again!’ Lysander has returned to his love; and matters end so much to our satisfaction that one cannot help exclaiming with Bottom, ‘I have had a most rare vision—I have had a dream past the wit of man to say what dream it was. Man is but an ass, if he go about to expound this dream.’ In short, the beauty of the thing is, that in its true sense, the beginning is the end and the end the beginning.

Now let the reader, who in this account may here and there have observed something of a flowery description, first of all read the Midsummer Night’s Dream; then let him take the two-handed arrangement, or the duet, as he pleases, (they are both beautiful and good; but the arrangement for four hands is the better—a circumstance, however, which ought by no means to imply a defect as regards the two-handed arrangement, for the simple reason that two is not four,) and he will be delighted with it and feel the import of the lines,

[Pg 148]

REVIEW OF NEW MUSIC.

SIX ORIGINAL ENGLISH GLEES, for three and four voices, including the Glee which gained the Prize given by the Manchester Glee-Club, 1832, and those performed at the Concentores Society, composed by H. R. BISHOP. The Poetry by Mrs. HEMANS, JOANNA BAILLIE, J. WILSON, Esq., and Dr. JOHNSON. (Goulding and D’Almaine.)

THE Glee is our national music, is indigenous to these isles, and a beautiful species of composition however viewed; we should therefore be sorry to see it fall into anything like neglect, a danger which some few years ago seemed to be threatened, though now we trust is past, judging from the encouragement it has lately received from many associated bodies, and from its re-introduction to domestic parties, where it appears to be regaining that favour which its own merits, and the facility with which it may now be performed, ought always to command.

Mr. Bishop, though he pursued his professional studies under an Italian master, and has devoted his life chiefly to the theatre, has cultivated what in an English musician may almost be called a natural talent for glee-writing, to which, it is fair to a laudable institution to state, he has probably been partly induced by his connexion with the Concentores Society, a small club, whose sole object is the conservation of this kind of composition, and for the service of which three out of the present collection were produced.

The first glee in this volume, ‘Where shall we make her grave?’ in E flat

, for four equal voices, gained the premium—(a Prize implies a medal, or cup; a far more gentlemanlike reward, by-the bye,)—given by a club at Manchester, and is a very impressive composition, the words set with judgment and feeling, and full of good, rich harmony. Being long, a more frequent and decided change of key would have increased the effect of this; though as it is in four different movements, the sameness which otherwise would have been felt, is much concealed. The melody at the words ‘where shower and singing-bird,’ is very charming; and the whole of pages 4 and 5, where the author modulates first into A flat

, then into D flat

, is set in a masterly, affecting manner.

The second, ‘Up! quit thy bower!’ a cheerful glee in F, for two sopranos, tenor, and base, is lively and pleasing: the frequent use here of the diminished 7th is rather a novelty in a glee, and tends to a good purpose. The whole of this is full of agreeable melody, which is particularly striking at page 15, where the annexed passage occurs,—a successful departure from the usual habits of glee-writers:—

The third, ‘No more the morn with tepid rays,’ in D, for four equal voices,—the words, Dr. Johnson’s Ode to Winter,—is in several movements, but the key is not so various, and the whole, though set with a due regard to the Poet’s sentiments, is rather monotonous and heavy. The following passage contains some clashing notes, though we allow that many of them are passing notes.—

The composer’s design is obvious, but nothing in music can justify what is disagreeable to a cultivated ear.

The fourth, ‘Oh! Sky-lark!’ in F, also for four equal voices, is throughout graceful, especially in melody; the repetition of certain pleasing phrases conduces here very much to effect.

The fifth, ‘In tears, the heart oppressed with grief,’ in E, for soprano, tenor, and base, a single movement, is[Pg 149] elegant and gentle, and the words are most judiciously set. Some chromatic notes in this will put glee-singers on the alert: they are, generally speaking, averse from trouble, but it is time to rouse them, and break through their ancient habits.

The sixth and last, ‘Come forth, sweet spirit!’ in F, for four equal voices, in two movements, is a good composition, and quite irreproachable, yet not very captivating. It is best calculated to please those critics who judge music by the eye rather than the ear,—who deal largely in the phrases ‘fine writing,’ ‘parts well put together,’ &c., and seldom look beyond the mechanism of a composition.

We may pronounce this to be a successful work: the glees are all of the orthodox kind, deficient in nothing that good taste requires, or that the nature of the composition, by a prescriptive right, demands. No very hazardous attempts are made at novelty, but we meet with nothing common, and no pedantic show of mistaken learning. Mr. Bishop has written to please, not without a sufficient regard for his own reputation, and has not failed in his endeavour.

WITHOUT being at all informed on the subject, and judging only from the dedication of the Songs of the Bower, we are inclined to believe that they are the production of an amateur, and that the words are by the author of the music. If we are in error as to the latter point, the composer is bound to excuse us, for he should have named the writer of them, if not from his own pen. They are six in number, show a vast deal of taste, a desire to avoid commonplaces, (though not always successful in this respect,) and a most correct manner of setting the poetry, both as regards expression and accentuation. Indeed, it is the latter circumstance which leads us to think that the composer and poet are one and the same person, for mere musicians, more often than not, are influenced by the meaning of particular words rather than by the context, and almost as frequently commit mistakes in quantity and in emphasis.

The first of these, ‘Once more to the bower,’ in E, is a slow, expressive air, well accompanied, but not very original, particularly in its cadences. The second, The Regret, in F, if sung slowly, rather ad libitum, and with feeling, will always make an impression. The accompaniment to this is very appropriate. The third, ‘When youth first leads,’ in D, is more pleasing than new. Of the fourth, ‘Now is the hour,’ in E flat, precisely the same may be said, though it is not as a whole equal to the former. The fifth, ‘Come welcome with me, lovely May,’ in G, should have been written in triple time; it has a strong polacca tendency, and halts exceedingly in its present measure. The praise we have bestowed on the composer’s accentuation must be abated so far as this song is concerned: giving a long note to ‘with,’ and in the strong part of the bar too, cannot escape censure. The sixth, ‘The last red rose,’ in E flat, is another expressive air, and the accompaniment shows much good taste in harmony; but the cadences here, as once or twice before, are, contrary to the moral rule, not the more valuable for being old acquaintances.

No. 2 is a very pretty volume of lithographed songs, thin enough to carry in the pocket, and with neat cover and gilt leaves, producible in any lady’s drawing-room; and all this at a less price than two songs of the ordinary kind! We confess that the smallness of the characters calls on the eye for unusual exertion; and the singer and accompanyist, if in the dual number, must sit in the closest possible contact if they mean to see a single note or word.

Of these songs, the best are, The Promise, in the Scottish style, by J. P. Clarke; The Night Flower, by T. Macfarlane; ‘The Midnight Dream,’ by John Thomson, Esq., a very superior composition; and The Proud Lover, by R. Webster. The poetry of the songs is unaffected, and some of it remarkable for tenderness, if not for any higher quality; and, at all events, the publication is certainly worth the moderate, the hardly remunerating price set on it.

PIANO-FORTE.

BOTH of these are remembrances of M. Herold, the lately-deceased French composer, and made up, we believe, chiefly of airs from his operas.

The first, though requiring considerable powers of execution, is good music; difficulty is not the author’s object. Some parts are very beautiful, others ingenious; but we most condemn the hateful run of semitones in thirds, foolishly introduced, at page 8, in deference to a vicious fashion.

M. Chaulieu has produced some clever and many pleasing things for the piano-forte, which have always been noticed by us in terms of due approbation. Though not an original or vigorous composer, he has generally been a rational one. But all at once his judgment seems to have abandoned him,—a fit of pedantic foppery has seized him! Will it be credited that a composer in the nineteenth century, a musician not under restraint, not actually in a strait waistcoat, can have attempted to retrograde a century and a half, by introducing, in a piece written for the piano-forte only, the contra-tenor clef? He has not only employed this, most freely, in the present fantasia, but written it with 8va. alta over the notes, as if the same meaning could not have been expressed infinitely better by the usual clef, even admitting that the C clef were still in use! If such folly as this is countenanced, we shall soon go back to six-line staves, to the treble clef on the first line, and the mean on the fifth,—to musical darkness and barbarism. Surely the London publisher, Mr. D’Almaine, could not have been aware of this mad freak, or exquisite piece of musical coxcombry, or his common sense would have prompted him immediately to restore sanity to the notation of this work, which, in its present state, cannot have the least chance of sale.

THE subject of No. 1 has frequently, in one shape or[Pg 150] other, come under our notice; it has all the frothy gaiety of the author, and not a trait that gives it the slightest chance of being remembered beyond the fleeing hour. M. Czerny, as might have been expected, has not palliated any of its defects, but rather aggravated them, by a succession of restless, unrelated, senseless passages.

M. Kulau, a judicious musician, but, alas! no more, has made a very charming rondo out of Mozart’s popular air from Figaro. Like a reasonable man, he has studied the convenience of the player, and also confined himself within moderate bounds;—like a man of taste, he has been regulated by the style of the subject;—and like a musician who really understands his art, he has added nothing but what every sound harmonist will approve and admire.

No. 1 evinces talent of no common kind: he who composed these pieces could, we should suppose, put parts to them, and by the addition of a single movement exalt them into a symphony, of which they seem to have been intended as portions. The three great masters are the models on which these compositions are formed, of whom Beethoven appears to be the object of the author’s highest admiration. The Minuet, in E flat, and Trio, in A flat, are spirited, and less studied in manner than the Andante, in B flat, which is impressive and recherché. The Allegretto, in A flat, is bold and energetic; the modulations here are many and fearless, and the author has ventured on discords for which he has no precedent that immediately occurs to us, thus at least proving a courage and independence which promise much as the result of his future exertions. Were our advice likely to influence Mr. E. Loder, we would recommend him to pursue his present course, only guarding him against the possibility of being allured from melody by the temptations of harmony.

The composer of a song has no chance now of success unless he fee some public performer to sing it; and the composer of a piano-forte piece must not expect that his work will attract any notice unless built on some popular air. Mr. Rawlings has long known the truth of this, and still acts on his experience. No. 2 is formed on two airs said to be popular, and No. 3 on one that unquestionably is, namely, ‘Non più mesta; of all of which he has made good use, and produced two very agreeable and recommendable publications.

No. 1 are animated, animating dances, not exhibiting any very new thoughts, but well put together.

No. 2 are subjects from an opera that cannot boast a single original idea, therefore the compiler of this quadrille must not be censured for want of novelty; but he has well arranged the airs he has chosen, and adapted them in a convenient manner for the performer.

DUETS, PIANO-FORTE.

No. 1 is the work noticed above, as arranged for a single performer. We like it better in its present form, for the parts are more dispersed, and the melody comes out more distinctly. The upper part of this is very difficult, but the lower is easy, the duet therefore will very well suit an elder and younger sister, or two players whose musical advancement is unequal.

No. 2 is Kulau’s Recollections of Odensee, in two quick, pleasing, and very practicable movements. We will not answer for the airs being, bonâ fide, of Danish origin, but whatever their birth-place, they are lively, pretty, and the superior master often peeps out while he means to be only simple and familiar.

SOME of the best subjects from an opera which has been too much lauded on the continent, are here arranged in an easy but effective manner.

ORGAN.

SELECT ORGAN PIECES, from Masses, Motets, and other sacred works of MOZART, HAYDN, BEETHOVEN, CHERUBINI, PALESTRINA, and other classical composers of the German and Italian schools, arranged by VINCENT NOVELLO. Nos. 31 to 36. (A. Novello.)

WHAT the preceding numbers of this work contain, we have had no means of judging, having only received those now under notice, and must confine ourselves to them. By means of very close engraving, twenty-two pieces are included in these numbers, principally from Haydn’s and Mozart’s sacred compositions, but some few are by Novello, Portogallo, and Bonno. We are not among those who think that the Masses, &c. of Haydn and Mozart are, taken altogether, equal to their secular works; many of them, we are persuaded, would never have been published by the consent of the composers, but parts of them make very good organ pieces. These Mr. Novello has culled, and, with his well-known ability, converted them to a very useful purpose. He certainly calculates his adaptations for superior organists, and is not sparing of notes. Sometimes there will be found too many, by second-rate performers; and we take the liberty to mention to Mr. N. that in the country, nay even in the metropolis, are several respectable organists, very well qualified to do the duty of parish churches, who think his arrangements too much crowded for ordinary players, and too full of harmony for country congregations.

VOCAL.

‘Tantum ergo,’ a SOPRANO SOLO, with chorus, and violin, or flute, obligato, composed by C. GUYNEMER. (J. A. Novello.)

THIS is more to be praised for smoothness of melody, and elegance in style, than for invention; we meet with nothing in it that can be called new, but, at the same time, nothing but what is rather agreeable. The air is in two movements, the first slow in three-four time, the last quicker, in common time. We prefer the former. The chorus, with a principal soprano added, to which a few florid passages are given, is simple, therefore—according to our notion of choral church music—appropriate; but it is also graceful. The flute accompaniment (by Mr. Nicholson) is good, as such, but not of that grave character which the words so imperatively demand.

No. 1 begins with a single voice, the contr’alto following, on the same subject a fourth below; but the most pleasing part of this is where the three voices come together. The whole is quite in the Italian style,—the best, though; and not unworthy the acceptance of the talented and lovely young dilettante to whom it is dedicated,—the Hon. Mary Anne Jervis.

No. 2 is not a glee, we beg to hint to the composer: having an accompaniment, and a free one too, it should have been called a quartet. The name, however, may not much signify; but as Mr. Brown is better known by that appellation than if he were called Mr. White, so the term quartet more correctly explains the nature of the present composition than that now bestowed on it. But whatever the name of this, it will not give one to its author: he must not build his hopes of immortality on The Butterfly.

No. 3 is simple, easy in every respect, and exactly calculated to please those who either do not understand or have no taste for elaborately written music. In whatever Mr. Lodge publishes, however unpretending, a trait of originality is always to be found, and this duettino is no exception to the rule.

We cannot say from which of Mozart’s works Mr. Forde has taken the melody of No. 4; it does not bear any of the very distinguishing marks of the author, though agreeable. The words, which are not quite intelligible to us, are not all adapted with the proper regard to emphasis, and the accompaniment needs much thinning. With a little alteration, this duet may be made useful to such amateur singers as are not disposed to examine too critically the poetry to which they give utterance.

No. 1, short and simple as it is, possesses much of that quality for which we so often sigh,—originality. Nothing can be more easy than this, for both singer and accompanyist, and it cannot fail of a circulation among those who do not take fright at a foreign language.

No. 2, we are told in a note, ‘is founded on the ancient Greek enharmonic mode, in which the 4th and 7th of the scale are omitted, as in the scale used in the Scotch melodies.’ In old Scottish airs, and, what is rather remarkable, in Chinese melodies, these intervals are rejected, but we do not wish to see the practice imitated, except, perhaps, now and then, to give—as in the present case—a tinge of antiquity to music set to ancient poetry.

No. 3 is very expressively set; but the time being marked 2/4, it appears to us that larghetto would have met the composer’s intentions better than andante, which, in four-quaver time, is quicker than the character of both words and music seems to justify.

No. 4 is the andante in B flat from Beethoven’s septet, which Mr. Wade apparently intends now to be sung much slower than it is played in its original form. He has not been very fortunate in adapting words to this; ‘one’ is not emphatic, nor is the last syllable of ‘memory,’ of ‘melody,’ and of ‘minstrelsy,’ long. Me-mo-ry, &c., will not do.

No. 5 also exhibits numerous errors in emphasis, beautiful as is the air. In fact, as the words are now adapted, a singer would stand a fair chance of being laughed at who should perform this air.

No. 8 sets off with some promise of novelty, but the composer, in modulating from F to E minor, gets quite out of his depth, and is engulphed in fifths of so abominable a kind, that we cannot allow them to pass without a remark.

PIANO-FORTE AND VIOLIN.

GRAN DUO CONCERTANTE, on Airs from MEYERBEER’s Robert le Diable; the Piano-forte part by KALKBRENNER, the Violin part by LAFONT. (Chappell.)

THIS is a composition in which two first-rate artists have united their talents, and requires performers of nearly equal rank to execute it in a fit and proper manner. It is a work remarkable for its brilliancy, which appears to have been the principal aim of the writers, for the greater part is of this cast; though an expressive adagio in B minor, and one variation of the same kind in F minor, operate as seasonable contrasts and reliefs. The bulk of this consists of an air in C, (we do not recollect its title,) with, in point of fact, five variations, though only numbered as two. The first of these requires a violinist expert in double stops; and if the pianist cannot run demisemiquavers in thirds, with one hand, in quick time, he had better at once decline all share in the concertante.

PIANO-FORTE AND FLUTE.

INTRODUCTION and RONDO on ‘Ah! quand il gêle sans se laisser,’ chorus in ONSLOW’s opera, Le Colporteur, composed by F. KULAU, Op. 98. (Hill.)

WE cannot any that any great exertion appears to have been made by M. Kulau either in the choice or arrangement of this chorus, but it has an advantage, and not a trifling one, namely, that it enables two moderate performers to make a considerable display without the cost of much previous practice, and at the expense of but little exertion. This is in E minor, but ends in the major key. It has an introduction, which, though there is an air of pretence in it, is heavy, and signifies nothing.

THE duets are ‘Cara pupille,’ and ‘Che cangi sempre,’ of Blangini, and ‘Vedi da questi palpiti,’ by Mercadante, arranged as TRIOS, in as easy a manner as possible for all three instruments; and to a numerous class of amateurs they will not be less agreeable because divested of all manner of difficulty, without being rendered insipid.

No. 2 are as brief as the foregoing, but the flute part requires rather more skill in the performer, while the accompaniment is much the same as the other. As to the airs, they are without any distinguishing character; and why such trifling compositions, so short—only two pages each—so scanty in subjects, and consequently so destitute of those flights of imagination which the term fantasia implies, should have received such a title, we are at a loss to guess.

This concert, the first selected by the noble Earl who has lately added his name to the list of directors, augurs very favourably of his musical knowledge and taste. We here discern no symptoms of prejudice, of an irrational exclusive system, for the best productions of the great schools are allowed a place; and, so long as the works of living composers are declared inadmissible,—a regulation which, for obvious reasons, ought to be strictly enforced,—the wider the field for choice, the better, both for the subscribers and the art itself. With this exception, the rule should be, and we have no doubt will be, to throw the door wide open to all that is excellent, whatever its country or date, and to give every work all the advantages that the best-appointed orchestra can bestow.

The Queen was present at this performance, and perhaps what is here denominated ‘The National Anthem’ was meant as a compliment to her Majesty. But why not have called it by its right name? And what reason can there have been for not giving the composer the credit of it? This is neither more nor less than Haydn’s Hymn for the Emperor Francis, with English words adapted to the music,[67] and as such would probably now have been announced, had not the secretary made his copy from a book of some former year.

The song from Judas Maccabeus is certainly not one of the best in that fine oratorio, but the chorus is grand. Webbe’s lovely glee, of which it is difficult to say whether the melody or the simple harmony is most charming, was well executed by the second choir; the first wanted strength in the base. Madame Cinti excels more in the cantabile than in the declamatory style; she therefore sang the air, ‘Per pietà,’ divinely, but was not quite so successful[Pg 153] in the recitative. The fine choral prayer, ‘O Father, whose almighty power,’ with the spirited fugue, forming the second movement, was admirably performed; as was Handel’s concerto. In the air from the Messiah, Mrs. Knyvett was perfectly at home, as she is in all Handel’s music. Indeed this lady is, we fear—and we feel with regret this apprehension—likely to be the last of that school which has received from tradition the true manner of singing the oratorio music of this master. The chorus that followed, by being placed in juxtaposition with Haydn’s choral chef-d’œuvre, seemed to challenge comparison; but if Handel is to be weighed in the scale against Haydn, ‘Lift up your heads,’ though a very masterly chorus, is not the work to be selected for the purpose. Nothing can exceed the admirable manner in which the selection from the Creation was performed: Braham’s ‘In splendour bright’ was magnificent, and ‘The heavens are telling’ stupendously grand; we never before heard so perfect a performance, and never were more affected by choral music.

The very pleasing light overture of Martini found an abundance of admirers in the room: many who did not justly appreciate Haydn’s chorus, entered fully into the merits of this. The melody, ‘Charmante Gabrielle,’ forming part of this, dragged—was played too slow. The aria, ‘A compir,’ proved too much of a duet; the violin was rendered more prominent than the composer intended; but Madame Cinti executed her share of it with a delicacy and neatness that never have been surpassed. Webbe’s greatest work, his glee, ‘When winds breathe soft,’ was a very finished performance. Miss Stephens sang most sweetly the song from Il Pensieroso. What poetical music! what musical words! But the whole oratorio (as it is called) whence this is taken, tempts one to commit an anachronism, by making Milton and Handel commune together during the progress of their work. The overture to Prometheus went well, but wanted some of the fire of the Philharmonic orchestra. The chorus, ‘Rex tremendæ majestatis,’ had ample justice done it; but in the exquisite quartet, a want of ensemble, of that union which good rehearsing produces, was too apparent.

TWELFTH CONCERT,
Under the Direction of Lord Burghersh, Wednesday,, June 5, 1833.

With this concert the season concluded, and in a manner which we should suppose must have determined almost every subscriber to continue his name on the list for the ensuing year. So good a selection, so much variety and novelty, never appeared on the books of the Ancient Concerts. Madame Pasta’s deeply expressive style of singing ‘Parto’ was felt by the whole room, but her shakes, or attempts to shake, nearly neutralized all the good effect she produced. Spofforth’s very beautiful glee,—one of those specimens of the English school which will descend to posterity, and never lose its power to charm,—was, upon the whole, delicately sung, though somewhat too quick. Mr. Bennet in ‘Total eclipse!’ did himself the greatest credit; he sang it most chastely, and afforded the best proofs of having studied the words as well as music of this exceedingly pathetic song, one of the chefs-d’œuvre of the great master. The beautiful quartet from Gluck’s Orfeo was new to these concerts. It is reasonably a matter of wonder that it never before had been rescued from neglect. We would willingly have spared the ‘Musica di Ballo,’ which, though essential on the stage, is quite unnecessary in the concert-room. Not less excellent than the quartet, though of a different character, is the aria from a drama written on the same subject, and composed by Haydn—‘Il pensier stà negli oggetto,’ a gentle, lovely air in E, sung by Mr. Parry, jun., with great judgment and effect. This, we believe, has never till now been publicly performed in England![68] We have heard Madame Pasta, in the scena from Gluck’s opera, with feelings of pleasure less mingled with regret than on the present occasion. She seems exhausted by constantly singing. The two spring months in London fatigue a fashionable performer more than a whole year in cities peopled by reasonable folks. The Te Deum of Leo, though nearly a century old, is another novelty, not only to the Ancient Concerts, but to this and, we suspect, every other country: it is one of the grandest works of this great composer: and some trombone parts which were, with great good sense, added to it on the present occasion, increase to a very considerable degree the sublimity of its effect. To Lord Burghersh, we are told, the subscribers are indebted for so much that is new to them; and we are much mistaken if the musical world generally will not have to thank that accomplished nobleman for having saved this valuable institution from the dissolution that was impending.

The overture to Alceste is decidedly a work of genius. Was it ever before performed in London, except forty years ago at the Opera-House? In the sestetto from Cosi fan Tutte the performers were by no means at ease; they wanted what they ought to have been compelled to undergo, a couple of hours’ private study together, with the piano-forte only, before they even rehearsed it with the band.

‘Dove scorre’ has never been a great favourite with us, though undoubtedly an elegant composition. It was extremely well executed by Messrs. Bennet and Phillips. The ‘Agnus Dei,’ from a not very generally known mass, is a beautiful quartet. The scena, ‘Misera! dove son?’ and following aria, is from Mozart’s Operngesaenge, and, like most of the pieces in that collection, did not call forth much of the composer’s strength; Mrs. Bishop, however, did it every justice in her power. The almost bewitching[Pg 154] madrigal of Girolamo Conversi, first published at Venice, in 1575, was encored!—a great effort for this wonderfully self-controlled audience. Keiser has recently been made generally known through the medium of our work, and a very passionate and charming air by him, admirably sung by Madame Devrient, added to the attraction of this fine concert,—a concert which has most effectually assisted in retrieving the character that had been rather damaged by a few former seasons, and has left a most favourable impression on all who were present at this last of the fifty-eighth series.

PHILHARMONIC CONCERTS.

Beethoven’s first symphony was that in C, which at once, without the usual gradatim rise, placed him on a level with Haydn and Mozart. It is now nearly forty years since it was written, but, owing to the state of the continent, did not reach this country till about fifteen years after its appearance at Vienna, and was then only attempted by bold instrumentalists. This Society, however, from its very commencement took it up,—it was the first symphony ever performed by the Philharmonic band, and then was heard everywhere in some shape or other; till at length—such is the fate of all that is good in music—by too frequent repetition, it began to ‘pall upon the sense,’ and was laid aside. It now came out, after many years’ repose, in much of its pristine freshness,—it was actually new to some of the audience, and was welcomed by all.

Mr. Potter’s symphony is not only the best composition that has yet proceeded from his pen, but a work that will give him an honourable place in the temple of fame,—a work, that the oftener it is heard the better it will be understood, and the more it will be liked; for not only the experienced master, but the man of genius, is evinced in every movement. It consists of an allegro con fuoco, in G minor, strikingly original; a very melodious and effective andante in D minor; a bold scherzo in G minor, and trio in E flat; and a finale in G minor. The only point in this symphony that seems to us liable to objection, is, that all the movements, except a short trio, are in the minor key, and this three times the same; thus a want of contrast is felt at the beginning and ending of each, though in the modulations the major third is sufficiently often introduced to afford the necessary relief.

The Fantasia Drammatica, for the full orchestra, is a descriptive piece; but M. Neukomm has had the good sense to attempt only to describe generally, never particularly. The last four books of Paradise Lost have supplied him with subjects, as his printed argument will show. The numbers distinguish the movements:—

The phrase alluded to by the composer is the first few bars of ‘I know that my Redeemer liveth,’ which he has introduced in a most felicitous manner. That the whole of this is well written, we hardly need say. There is some imagination in the various movements, but not of that vigorous kind which will put the indelible stamp of genius on the work.

M. Hummel’s concerto—the same that he produced at his recent benefit—is a very masterly composition, and, with a far superior band, went off much better now than at his own concert. The duet between Lindley and Dragonetti fixed the attention of the whole room, and pleased all. The last movement was loudly encored, for the wonderful command obtained over so intractable an instrument as the double-base naturally enough excites a desire to witness more of it than the single hearing of so brief a piece affords an opportunity of doing. The soft, low tones also, after the brass band had been very active, operated as a great relief to the auricular nerves.

Though the vocal portion of this concert furnished nothing new, the manner in which it was executed by Madame Pasta and Signor Tamburini gave a charm to it that was most sensibly felt by all present, who testified their pleasure by the warmest applause; and applause is not here lavishly or indiscriminately bestowed.

Madame Puzzi and her smaller half took more pains with the aria of Rossini than, as a composition, it deserved, but not more than that respect which they always feel for their audience taught them was required.

The symphony in B flat of Beethoven, though less known than two or three of his others, is inferior to none in beauty, and in that kind of originality which does not strike the hearer who is content to enjoy without inquiring into the remoter causes of his pleasure. Both this and Mozart’s in G minor, which it is needless to praise, were performed and received with a warmth of feeling that acts by reciprocation, and is a cause, a main one, of the acknowledged, the vast superiority of the instrumental performances at these concerts. The overture by M. Mendelssohn in C, declares itself the offspring of genius and knowledge. Its rapidity and, what appears, wildness, render an analysis of it impossible, without either frequent hearing or an examination of the work on paper; we therefore venture no further opinion of it than the very general one we now express.

Great curiosity was excited to hear M. Herz, whose name has for some time past been pretty well known in all the music-shops of Europe. To those who consider mechanical dexterity, or that sort of command of the key-board which persevering labour is sure to bestow, the perfection of piano-forte playing,—or, in other words, to such as think what is termed execution the only reasonable aim and desirable end of music,—this gentleman must appear the realization of the beau-ideal of a performer: the neatness with which, without any apparent effort, he does extraordinary feats, is surprising—quite as astonishing as some things accomplished by Paganini on the violin, and equally valuable, in the eyes of those who ground their judgment on anything like sound principle. He crosses his hands, he weaves his fingers, with the cleverness of a juggler; an automaton constructed by Maelzel could hardly surpass him in precision. He invents and masters passages which the greatest musicians never dreamt of, which the best players never did and never will attempt, and is a most successful rival of that self-playing piano-forte which is manufactured and to be purchased somewhere in London within sound of Bow-bell. But with those who think that sentiment or expression,—that taste, that rich harmony, that air ‘che nell’ anima si sente,’ are all or any of them essential to good music, M. Herz has small chance of becoming a favourite. To which party the majority of our readers belong, we only know by conjecture: we lay the case before them in the best way that our ability will permit, and respectfully leave them to guess our opinion. The concerto performed by M. Herz is in C minor, and at least on a par with most of the other compositions by the same author.

M. de Beriot’s concerto, though not as a composition equal to that he played on the sixth night, proved highly gratifying to his audience, for his performance was marked by excellencies in which he has no rival. He was greeted with acclamations.

Not less animated were the applauses that followed the scena of Mozart, ‘Ecco il punto,’ and aria, ‘Non più di fiori,’ in which Madame Malibran displayed a compass of voice, (from A below to A above the treble staff,) a power in delivering this fine recitative, and a correctness of taste in the execution of the air, that, altogether, we never knew equalled. In the duet, which is one of the best things that Mercadante has produced, the two ladies were quite equal in their respective styles, and established a just right to the almost enthusiastic approbation they met with. The aria sung by Signor Zuchelli, a clever composition, is among the Operngesaenge of Mozart, but he was not at home in it: probably he had not had time enough to study it sufficiently. He was nearly overpowered, too, by an unmercifully loud accompaniment, a fault, and a very glaring one, in these concerts, which the directors ought to have corrected. Most of the audience stayed to hear the profound overture to Egmont, which terminated a remarkably fine and universally admired concert.

BENEFIT CONCERTS OF THE SEASON.

MR. VAUGHAN filled his room completely without any aid from foreign singers; and except a duet from Spohr’s Jessonda—which was not well chosen for Mrs. Bishop and Mr. Horncastle—the music was almost wholly in the native language of the performers. Giovanni Croce’s madrigal, ‘Cynthia!’ was called for a second time, for madrigals are coming into fashion again. Mrs. Bishop sang Hummel’s Offertorium very chastely; and Miss Stephens, in ‘Sweet Bird,’ pleased every admirer of simplicity and pure intonation. Mr. Phillips’s ‘Old English Gentleman’ was received with a universal encore.

M. Moscheles gave the septetto written for the Philharmonic Society, with exceedingly good effect. He also, with M. Mendelssohn, played Weber’s Gipsies’ March with concertante variations, as a duet for two piano-fortes, which excited the most lively interest—these two highly distinguished musicians having each contributed his share of variations, and, in friendly conflict, put forth all their powers in the performance of them. Their cadences were of the most masterly kind, and excited the admiration of a crowded room, in which were most of the connoisseurs in town. Miss Francilla Pixis made her first appearance in London, in a feeble air by Bellini. Her voice is a mezzo soprano, and as she had but recently recovered from an indisposition, her performance is hardly a fair subject for criticism. Mad. Pircher sang an air from Figaro, in German, not in the best manner. Indeed it was injudicious to give it in a translation. But the strength of the concert consisted in the instrumental part; this also included Mendelssohn’s fine poetical overture to A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and a clever extemporaneous performance by M. MOSCHELES.

M. Cianchettini produced a new duet for piano-forte[Pg 156] and flute, in which he was ably supported by M. Sedlatzek. He also performed Dussek’s fine duet for two piano-fortes, with his sister, Mad. Campanile; likewise an extempore fantasia. Mad. Cinti, Signori Rubini, Donzelli, Zuchelli, &c., rendered their vocal assistance; and M. Mori, M. Puzzi, M. Sedlatzek, and M. Sagrini, on the violin, horn, flute, and guitar, contributed their assistance.

Mrs. Anderson introduced, for the first time in public, Beethoven’s concerto in G, which she performed in her accustomed accurate and brilliant manner. Also the fantasia of the same composer, in which he has joined voices and instruments. She likewise played Czerny’s Military Fantasia, which, having the least merit of the three pieces, was most applauded, for the assembly—a remarkably full one, as usual—was of a very fashionable kind. Mad. Pasta sang (for the hundredth time, we believe) ‘Il braccio mio conquise;’ and the best thing Morlacchi ever produced, ‘Notte tremenda.’ Mad. Cinti gave ‘The last Rose of Summer’ with variations. The latter were executed in a most perfect manner, and the absurdity of them did not seem to strike the audience. She also sang an unmeaning air by Pucitta, but made up for the weakness of this by accompanying herself very skilfully on the piano-forte. Mori played a violin solo by Mayseder, in which was less of that skittishness than is commonly found in the productions of this ephemeral composer. And Miss A. Windsor performed a harp concerto by Labarre, with considerable applause.

The most attractive piece in this performance was a new concerto by M. Hummel, a composition in which knowledge and taste are equally and happily combined. He also played a new Rondo Brillante, the subjects and style of which are quite of the popular kind, though, of course, it can only be made available, should it be published, by a few—by those who devote their lives to the overcoming of difficulties. Mesdames Pasta, De Meric, and Pircher, Signori Donzelli and Tamburini, with Herr Blume and Herr Binder, sang each one aria. The German vocalists also attended, and performed what we should be inclined to call an English glee, to German words, and not a very good one. In fact, had they not been foreign, and had not the music been throughout the same, nothing but the urbanity of the audience would have prevented their manifesting some disapprobation at such a performance. The room was not fully attended.

To the regret of his numerous friends, Mr. F. Cramer was by indisposition prevented from being present at his own concert, but his place was ably filled by Mr. Mori; and his brother, Mr. J. B. Cramer, delighted the Audience by a concertino, a pasticcio in fact, made up for the occasion, on the piano-forte. Mr. F. Cramer’s pupil, young Blagrove, played Mayseder’s concerto in E minor with great neatness and spirit; and Mr. Wright exhibited much talent in Hummel’s favourite concerto, adapted for the harp; a change, however, which we cannot quite approve, and trust that it will not often be imitated. Mrs. Knyvett sang ‘If guiltless blood,’ very feelingly. Mr. Phillips was very great in Neukomm’s cantata, Napoleon’s Midnight Review, and very amusing in ‘The Old English Gentleman.’ Mad. Pasta sang ‘Ah! come rapida!’ admirably: but why will she not extend her catalogue of arie? She doubtless has heard of ‘toujours perdrix.’

Mad. Cellini sang in good taste a duet of Rossini with her pupil, Miss Heath, and joined in other pieces. Mad. Pasta, Mad. Devrient, Signori Zuchelli, De Begnis, Mr. Parry, jun., Mr. Bennett, &c., assisted in the vocal department. M. De Beriot played very finely a violin solo; and a M. Dorn made his first appearance in London, in a solo for the horn. He is a master of his instrument, but not so great a master as Puzzi.

This was not very fully attended, but Mr. Dressler and Mr. Pelzer on their respective instruments very much delighted their audience.

At the residence of Sir Giffin Wilson, Stratford Place, Wednesday Evening, May 15.

Miss Dorrell, late a pupil of the Royal Academy of Music, performed Hummel’s piano-forte concerto in A minor, also the principal part in his military septet, in a very correct, neat manner. The rest of the concert was vocal; among the pieces were ‘Ah! come rapida!’ and a Tyrolienne, by Mad. Cinti, an aria, by Signor Zuchelli, a duet by the latter and Signor De Begnis, a serenade by Mr. Bennett, composed by Lord Burghersh, &c. A numerous and elegant company attended this concert.

The first movement of Moscheles’ concerto, No. 5, a concerto by Mendelssohn, and the piano-forte part of a trio by Hummel, were played with much brilliancy by M. Kiallmark. M. Dressler performed a flute solo. The concert was otherwise chiefly vocal; and except what was assigned to Mad. Cinti, was far from laudable. A song, in the programme, named ‘The Rhine,’ is too palpable an imitation of Neukomm’s ‘Sea,’ to pass without a stricture; and as if it had been intended to expose the author of it, the model was subsequently produced.

The whole force of the London orchestra, and the corps de l’opera, were, as usual, assembled by M. Mori, and his room was filled in every part. He played with great force and execution a concertino, made up of Mayseder and Maurer, and some ‘grand variations’ by the former composer; besides the violin part of an ottetto by Spohr, in which Handel’s celebrated air in E is introduced, a work which certainly will not add to the fame of M. Spohr. In addition to the above were, Mrs. Knyvett, Mrs. Bishop,[Pg 157] Mad. Devrient, and Miss C. Novello. MM. Moscheles and Mendelssohn repeated the duet which they had played at the concert of the former, and M. Bochsa played some variations on the harp. The concert opened with Beethoven’s symphony in C minor, which was very well executed.

On this occasion M. Potter produced a new symphony, a new piano-forte concerto, and some brilliant variations on a French theme, all of which well sustained the high reputation he has acquired, both here and in Germany, as an instrumental composer. We regret that our limits do not admit of our entering fully into the merits of these fresh proofs of his ability. Mesdames Pasta and Devrient, Signori Donzelli, Tamburini, &c., were his vocal supporters; and his band consisted of nearly all the performers of the Philharmonic Concerts.

This was M. Herz’s first public appearance in England, and as his fame had preceded his arrival among us, a large audience assembled to hear an artist concerning whom so much diversity of opinion prevailed. As we have spoken of him in another part of our number we shall merely state here that he was received in a most encouraging manner, and that his performances were followed by very flattering applause. He played a concerto in C minor, ‘grand variations’ on the march in Otello, and a duet on one piano-forte, with M. Moscheles. His extemporaneous performance need hardly be noticed. It was as good, and made up of pretty much the same materials, as such things generally are. And we will take this opportunity of observing, that such exhibitions are, in our opinion, as derogatory to a great musician, as improvisation would be to a great poet. The vocal strength consisted of Mad. Cinti, Signori Rubini and Tamburini. Signor Puzzi played in a charming manner a fantasia on the horn, and M. de Beriot performed a solo admirably on the violin.

This gentleman announces himself as a pupil of Mr. Neate, to whom he does credit. On this occasion he played Mendelssohn’s fine concerto in G minor, and Czerny’s ‘Grand Military Fantasia,’ in a manner that gained him much applause. Mesdames Pasta, Devrient, De Meric, Puzzi, Mrs. Bishop, MM. Phillips, Donzelli, Haitzinger, Zuchelli, &c., were the vocalists; and M. Eliason played a pleasing fantasia, à l’Espagnol, on the violin. The King’s Theatre having been open this evening, Mr. Salaman was incapable of forming a very good orchestra, and Beethoven’s symphony in C minor suffered in consequence. A trio à la Tyrolienne was sung by Mad. de Meric and two debutantes, the Demoiselles Correldi, who accompanied themselves with the castagnettes! Neither the music nor the performance proved very satisfactory. The room was exceedingly full, but we doubt whether it was equally productive.

A very charming selection, in which some excellent music was allotted to our best English singers, and equally good Italian music was assigned to Italians. This is just as it should be, and proves Mr. Sale’s discrimination. A new and clever madrigal by Lord Burghersh was performed for the first time; as was a pleasing song by Mr. Phillips. Mrs. Knyvett in ‘Let the bright seraphim,’ accompanied by Harper, was most deservedly applauded; but we wish that she would not add any cadenza to what is an aria d’agilità from beginning to end. Miss Stephens in ‘John Anderson,’ and Mr. Braham ‘In native worth,’ from the Creation, (sung by command) drew abundance of plaudits; as did Mad. Pasta in (the old story) ‘Ah! come rapida,’ and Mad. Cinti in Hasse’s fine bravura, ‘Sorprendermi vorresti.’ Sig. Rubini sang, or rather sacrificed, Mozart’s ‘Il mio tesoro intanto;’ and the Adelaida of Beethoven is too much for the physical powers of Mr. Hobbs. The concert opened with ‘God save the King,’ in compliment to the Duchess of Kent and the Princess Victoria, who, with their suite, were present in the royal box, and seemed highly delighted with the performance.

At the residence of Sir John De Beauvoir, Connaught Place, Monday Morning, June 3.

All the strength of the Italian Opera were here, augmented by Mrs. Bishop, Miss H. Cawse, Messrs. Haitzinger and Parry, jun., &c. Mrs. Anderson, Mr. Mori, and Sig. Costa, as instrumentalists. The performance was well attended, and deserved the applause it received.

This opened with the overture by M. Chelard performed at the third Philharmonic Concert, whose drinking chorus in Macbeth was also given effectively by the German party. Mr. Eliason played a violin concerto, the music by Rode and Mayseder, with much brilliancy of execution, and the violin part of a duet concertante with the harp. M. Herz played his ‘variations de concert’ on a subject from Guillaume Tell.

At the residence of J. Taylor, Esq., George Street, Hanover Square, Saturday Morning, June 8.

Well attended, and M. Sedlatzek performed several pieces on the flute with that ease of execution and delicacy of manner for which he is distinguished.

The highest treat in this concert was Mr. Cramer’s performance of his own beautiful concerto, op. 48, which he played with that pathos in which he excels all pianists, and with the spirit—but spirit devoid of feats of agility—that he ever possessed. With M. Hummel he performed the fantasia in F minor of Mozart, and, as a last movement, the finale to his duet in F major,—a most finished performance; and with M. Herz, a ‘grand concerto duet,’ which, though admirably executed, we could not but think a very incongruous union. He also introduced, by permission of the Philharmonic Society, the new quintet he wrote for their concerts, and which now went off in a very perfect manner. Messrs. Mori, Nicholson, and Wright, played fantasias on their respective instruments;[Pg 158] and Mad. Cinti, Mrs. Knyvett, Miss Novello, Messrs. Phillips and Parry, jun. contributed their vocal aid. The room was full from the commencement.

The élite of the foreign artistes now in London came in support of this concert, and the company consisted almost exclusively of people of fashion. The music exhibited little that is new, but it was well performed, and chiefly vocal. Mad. Puzzi sang an aria, ‘Se amore soltanto,’ by Rossini, and was charmingly accompanied by Sig. Puzzi. The latter also played a fantasia on the horn. Messrs. Moscheles and Herz performed a duet on the piano-forte; and Messrs. Osborne and De Beriot a divertimento for piano-forte and violin. The tickets to this were a guinea each, and the rooms were well filled, but not crowded.

FOREIGN MUSICAL REPORT.

VIENNA.

A SECOND concert has been given at the Hofoperntheater by Bernhard Romberg, which was in every respect equal to the first. The young prodigy, Apollinar Kontsky, aged seven years, has also given a concert; this precocious virtuoso, who still plays upon a small-sized violin, evinced extraordinary strength of arm and perfect fulness of tone, and particularly delighted his audience by the correct taste he displayed, and by the expression which he infused into his performances. With the genius which is already apparent in him, and the promise which his present astonishing proficiency holds out, if he persevere in the cultivation of his instrument, under the care of a really good master, there is reason to expect that he will become one of the first violin players in the world.

BERLIN.

A YOUNG singer, Mad. Schodel, from Vienna, has made her first appearance at the Königstadt theater; her voice, which is of an agreeable quality, is rather weak, particularly in the lower notes; she has, however, considerable flexibility, and she sings simple melodies with exquisite sweetness and taste; her acting, moreover, is very good. There has been no novelty at this theatre of late; the operas of Melusine and Des Adler’s Horst have been the principal attractions.

A new opera has been produced at the Königliche theater, Das Schloss Candra (Candra Castle), by Joseph Wolfram, which was rather favourably received. The music makes no pretensions to genius, at the same time the opera contains much that is very meritorious; the choruses, if not beautiful, are at least good, and the same may be said of the concerted pieces; the arias, however, are weak. The other performances have been, Alcidor, Die Stumme, and Fra Diavolo.

DRESDEN.

THE unceasing efforts of the Kapellmeister Reissiger have led to an engagement as a compensation for the temporary loss of Mad. Schroeder Devrient, whose characters will be sustained during her three months’ absence by Mad. Kraus Wranitzky; Mlle. Maschinka Schneider is also engaged for one year. The opera, however, experiences an irreparable heavy loss in the departure of Mad. Schebest, who appeared for the last time as Irma, in Der Maurer und der Schlosser (le Maçon.)

On Palm Sunday there was a grand performance of Bach’s oratorio, St. Matthew the Evangelist, at the great opera house, under the very able direction of Kapellmeister’s Morlacchi and Reissiger, in aid of the fund for the relief of the distressed widows and orphans of members of the Royal Chapel; the choruses consisted of upwards of two hundred voices, and there were ten eminent solo singers—among them, Mesdames Kraus Wranitzky and Schebest; the tenors, Babnigg and Schuster, and the bases, Risse, Wächter, and Zezi; and upwards of a hundred instruments judiciously proportioned.

FRANKFORT.

MLLE. Carl has arrived here, and has sung at a concert which, notwithstanding her fame, was but thinly attended. On the 15th April M. Kalkbrenner gave a concert and was received with enthusiasm.

BREMEN.

THE winter concerts, which were very successful, having terminated, there was a benefit concert got up for Mad. Mühlenbruch, the principal singer, who has a sweet voice and exquisite taste. On Good Friday, the Messiah was given in the cathedral, when Mad. M. and the younger Mlle. Graban, and some talented dilettanti, did justice to the music of the immortal Handel.

DUSSELDORF.

IT is expected that the musical festival which is to take place this year will be one of the most brilliant on record for many years. Among the attractive pieces which are announced for performance, are Mozart’s symphony in G minor, the overture to Leonore, by Beethoven; Handel’s oratorio, Israel in Egypt; a cantata by Wolf; and Die Macht der Töne (the Power of Sounds), by Weber; and some compositions of M. Bergmuller and of M. Felix Mendelssohn, director for the present year. Mad. Decker (late Fraul. von Schätzel) is to sing on the occasion.

DESSAU.

FOR some years past few foreign artists of eminence have played at our concerts; the recent visit therefore of M. Haase, jun., from Dresden, was the more welcome, from the rarity of such occurrences. He played a fantasia by Molique, on Swiss airs, a duet by Lafont and Hertz, from Fra Diavolo, and Mayseder’s Thema, with variations in D major. His tone is full of exquisite expression, his style remarkable for elegance and freedom, his cantilena is exceedingly grand, and his bowing masterly, like that of Polledro his instructor.

JENA.

OUR usual concerts and musical entertainments under the direction of Dr. Hand have given great satisfaction. A concert by the Vocal and Instrumental Society was the first of the season. The selection comprised an overture by Reissiger and one by Lindpaintner, and concertos of[Pg 159] Hummel on the piano-forte, Keller on the flute, and Jansa on the violin, all played by dilettanti.

Mad. Filipowicz gave a concert, at which she played a polonaise by Kalliwoda with much feeling, and Mayseder’s variations in E major. There was also a musical entertainment given by M. Rössner of Darmstadt, and MM. Buschmann, father and son, the former playing the harp, the other the terpodion.

UTRECHT.

AT the two hundredth anniversary of our City Concerts, on the 14th March, was performed a cantata composed by M. Kufferath, a pupil of Spohr’s. The performance was conducted by the composer and surpassed every expectation; there were also given a symphony of Kalliwoda, and Mendelssohn Bartholdy’s overture to a Midsummer Night’s Dream, which were well played.

ST. PETERSBURG.

A CONCERT was lately given at the palace of M. von Narischkin, for the relief of the widows and orphans of musicians, at which several dilettanti of rank, namely, Prince Wolchonski, Count M. Wielhorsky, Mlle. von Bolotnikow, and others, contributed their valuable services.

COPENHAGEN.

THE season just past brought before the public two new operas which were very successful; the first Das Bild und die Büste (the Portrait and the Bust), in three acts, by P. C. Berggreen, the other, Die Braut von Lammermoor, by the Kapellmeister J. Bredal; both composers in their productions successfully clothed in musical expressions the ideas of their poets, regarding melody as the first consideration—in style however they differ widely. Besides these, there was another vocal piece, Der Rabe oder die Bruderprobe (The Raven, or the Test of Fraternal Affection), by J. P. E. Hartmann. The other performances of the season were Boieldieu’s Die Zwey Nächte (Les deux Nuits), J. L. Heiberg’s humorous operetta, Ein Abentheuer im Rosenberger Garten (An Adventure in the Rosenberg Garden), Weyse’s opera, Ludlam’s Höhle (Ludlam’s Cave), Die Stumme, Fra Diavolo, Der Liebestrank, Die Weise Frau, Figaro, Joconde, Die Weinlese (The Vintage), Der Erlenhügel (The Alder Hill), music by Kuhlau; Don Juan, Das Schloss Montenero, Der Schatz (Le Trésor Supposé), Der Schlosser und der Maurer, Preciosa, Der kleine Matros (Le petit Matelôt), and Die verliebten Handwerksleute (The Love-smitten Mechanics.)

MADRID.

ITALIAN operas are performed here twice a week, alternately in the Teatro del Principe and in the Teatro della Cruz; thus the lovers of the opera are obliged to take boxes in both houses. None, indeed, but Italian operas are tolerated, and Rossini is the favourite composer. Hence piano-forte arrangements of his music are to be met with all over Madrid, and there is scarcely a female of the middle rank in life who has not acquired some degree of proficiency on the piano-forte. The guitar is almost entirely discarded. People alone of the lower class are now and then to be seen playing that instrument before their doors. Spanish music, too, is completely out of vogue, and the ladies invariably sing that of Italy, unless expressly entreated to sing a national air; so that the lively Spanish airs are now only to be heard in the mouths of the common people.

KING’s THEATRE.

THE Pirata of BELLINI, which is not only his best opera, but the only one of that composer which has a chance of surviving above another year or two, has been performed since our last report, Madame PASTA in the character of Imogene, who enabled us to enter fairly into the merits of the work, which, at its first representation in this country four seasons ago, were not so discernible, the then prima donna having made a very sad affair of it, though she was amazingly bepraised at the time, and we were exceedingly vituperated for pointing out her incapability.

Fragments of operas have also been performed; the best works have suffered all kinds of mutilations and martyrdom, and the audiences have been content, which is a sufficient justification of the manager. The fact is that in the months of May and June the opera fills, however conducted. A really good manager directs his efforts to the first few months of the season, well knowing that after Easter a single great name is sufficient to draw crowds.

On Thursday the 20th of June, a new opera was actually produced—the first attempt of the kind this season! The occasion was Madame PASTA’s benefit; the name of the piece, Norma, a tragic opera in two acts, composed by Signor BELLINI, and got up under his personal direction.

‘The scene lies in Cambria, in the sacred forest, and in the Temple of Irminsul.’

The story is as wide a departure from anything in the shape of historical vraisemblance as can be imagined. The Gauls subjugate the Romans in Wales, then commit the government of that country to Pollio, a pro-consul of Rome! He becomes enamoured of Norma, daughter of the Arch-Druid, and is secretly married to her, though she, something like the Vestal virgins, had devoted herself to celibacy. After she has become the mother of two children, Pollio’s affections are transferred to Adalgisa, who consents at first to fly with him to Rome; but, struck by remorse, she reveals all to Norma, whose ‘love to hatred turns,’ and the latter determines to avenge herself by destroying her children; but she changes her purpose; impeaches herself in the assembly of Druids, and is condemned to be burnt alive; to which fate her faithless husband is also sentenced; but his love for her suddenly returns, and he unreluctantly ascends with Norma the fatal pile.

That this is an imitation of Medea is evident, and, as in that opera, Madame PASTA is the life and soul of this. Her acting alone saves it here, as it did in Milan, where it was first produced last year.

Considered as a whole, the music, though not censurable in regard to the rules of composition, possesses the most fatal of all faults—it is deplorably uninteresting: except the motivo of the duet, Deh! con te li prendi, an aria, Norma! che fu? and the finale, not a piece has the slightest pretence to originality, or produces the least effect. The overture and introduzione stun one with all kinds of noisy instruments, and half, or more, of the first act is accompanied by the same intolerable din. The music of the last scene, and the acting of PASTA, but especially the latter, will keep the opera on the stage while she remains to fill the part; without her, or her equal, if such should ever be found, it has no chance of being listened to in London; and even with her, it is with a half reluctance permitted [70].

DRURY LANE THEATRE.

ON the 4th of June a nondescript piece, called The Students of Jena, or The Family Concert, was produced here, the principal character by Madame MALIBRAN but it was a decided failure, and the theatre was shut very shortly after.

COVENT-GARDEN THEATRE.

THIS theatre closed very early last month, the lessee declaring that, as the performers declined acceding to the terms he proposed, he could no longer carry on the concern, without incurring the most ruinous loss. The company then obtained the Lord Chamberlain’s permission to open the Olympic, and transferred themselves to that theatre, where they have since continued to perform. Shortly after, this theatre was re-opened with the German company, brought hither from Drury-lane, in consequence of an agreement between M. LAPORTE and Mr. BUNN! Their first performance was MOZART’s Zauberflöte, M. HAITZINGER as Tamino, who sung the airs with great feeling, but was occasionally too loud and turbulent,—M. DOBLER, a fine deep, musical base, and a very superior singer, as Sarastro,—Madame SCHROEDER DEVRIENT as Pamina, who did the most ample justice to the part,—Madame STOLL BÖHM, a soprano with an indifferent voice, whose deficiencies as a singer are not compensated for by her acting, as Astrifiammante,—and M. UETZ, a very excellent actor, and a singer of great merit, as Papageno. Though much of this opera was performed remarkably well, parts of it disappointed our expectations: the two lovely trios, best known here by the Italian words, ‘Te guida a palma nobile;’ and ‘Già fan ritorno,’ were executed in but a slovenly manner, and the fine religious march lost some of its effect by being played to an empty stage. This, however, we believe, was afterwards corrected. The Zauberflöte has not drawn, in spite of its many beauties, and the German Opera is not in a much better condition in London than the national, the legitimate drama!

THE MUSIC OF THE PRESENT NUMBER.

THE titles of the pieces in this number leave us little to add, for as four out of six of them are of modern date, their authors are well known, and no history at all interesting is connected with those compositions.

The cavatina is in the last scene of The Pirate, sung in the character of Imogene, who addresses it to her young son. The words are thus translated into not very good English verse, in the printed book of the opera:—

The Romanza is from the most admired of Mozart’s concertos. The author has not indicated the movement, but it is commonly played as an andante. Sig. Cimador, who arranged it, was an excellent musician, well known in the fashionable and musical world some thirty years, or more, since.

Purcell’s air is from an ode on the birth-day of Mary, consort of William III. Our arrangement is made from the score published by—Goodison, Esq., an amateur, about forty-five years ago. The beauty of this melody speaks for itself.

The quartet, Agnus Dei, is from a mass of Beethoven and of his sacred compositions, may fairly be deemed the most melodious and elegant.

The Minuet and Trio from Haydn’s Eleventh Symphony, were composed for Saloman’s Concerts about the year 1794.

The movement from Handel’s 4th Hautboy Concerto [71] is one of his most beautiful morceaux. The melody of the latter part, marked pianissimo, is written for the bassoon, an octave lower than it now appears; but in arranging it for the piano-forte, we thought it advisable to place it an octave higher, as we could not add the hautboy accompaniment in any convenient form for the player. It should be borne in mind that the allegro of Handel’s time was not so quick as the allegro of the present day.

The Hautboy Concertos, six in number, were written at Cannons, the seat of the Duke of Chandos, (Pope’s Timon,) in the year 1720, and published in 1729. Four of them still continue to be used in the Ancient Concerts, where they are admirably performed, and are great favourites with the subscribers, as they deserve to be with all lovers of good music.

[Pg 161]

AUGUST, 1833.

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF MARIN MERSENNE AND ATHANASIUS KIRCHER.

AMONG the laborious and voluminous writers on music, those now selected stand prominently forward; and though their respective merits are far from equal—the French ecclesiastic being undeniably superior to the German jesuit, both in knowledge and exactness—yet the works of each have long enjoyed a high reputation, and will always be found useful to those who study music as a science, or historically, and as connected with general literature.

MARIN MERSENNE (in Latin, Marinus Mersennus), a most learned French writer, was born in 1588, at Ayse, in the province of Maine. He received his instruction in polite literature at the college of Flêche; but, quitting that seminary, he went to Paris, and, after having studied divinity some years in the college of the Sorbonne, entered himself among the Minims (a religious order), and, in 1611, received the habit. In 1612, he went to reside in the convent of that order at Paris, where he was ordained priest, and performed his first mass in 1613. Immediately upon his settlement he applied himself to the study of the Hebrew language, under the direction of Father John Bruno, a Scotch Minim, and having acquired a competent degree of skill therein, became a teacher of philosophy and theology in the convent of Nevers. In this station he continued till the year 1619, when he returned to Paris, determined to spend the remainder of his life in study and conversation, as indeed he did, making them his whole employment. In the pursuit of his studies he established and kept up a correspondence with all the learned and ingenious men of his time.

During his stay at Flêche he contracted a friendship with Des Cartes, and manifested it in many instances; of which the following may be reckoned one. Being at Paris, and looked on as the friend of the great philosopher, he reported that Des Cartes was erecting a new system of physics on the foundation of a vacuum; but finding that the public were indifferent to it, he immediately sent intelligence to his friend that a vacuum was not then the fashion, on which the philosopher changed his system, and adopted the old doctrine of a plenum. The residence of Mersenne at Paris did not prevent his making several journeys into foreign countries, for he visited Holland in the middle of the year 1629, and Italy four times, in 1639, 1641, 1644, 1646. In the month of July, 1648, having been to call on his friend Des Cartes, he returned home to his convent excessively heated; to allay his thirst, he drank cold water, and soon after was seized with an illness which produced an abscess in his side. His physicians, imagining his disorder to be a kind of pleurisy, ordered him to be bled several times, but to no purpose. At last it was thought proper to open his side: the operation was begun, but he expired in the midst of it, on the 1st of September, 1648, being then about sixty years of age. He had desired the surgeons, in case of miscarriage in the operation, to open his body, which direction they complied with, and found that they had made the incision two inches below the abscess!

The character of Mersennus as a philosopher and a mathematician is well known in the learned world. To that disposition which led him to the most abstruse studies, he joined a nice and judicious ear, and a passionate love of music; these gave a direction to his pursuits, and were productive of numberless experiments and calculations, tending to demonstrate the principles of harmony, and prove that it is independent of habit or fashion, custom or caprice, and, in short, has its foundation in nature, and in the original frame and constitution of the universe.

In the year 1636, Mersenne published, at Paris, in a large folio volume, his Harmonie Universelle, in which he treats of the nature and properties of sound, of instruments of various kinds, of consonances and dissonances, of composition, of the human voice, of the practice of singing, and a great variety of other matters concerning music.

This work consists of a great number of separate and distinct treatises, with such signatures for the sheets, and numbers of the pages, as to make them independent of each other. The consequence whereof is, that there are hardly any two copies to be met with that contain precisely the same number of tracts, or in which the tracts occur or follow in the same order; so that to cite or refer to the Harmonie Universelle is a matter of some difficulty. Among these are to be found the most minute and satisfactory account of the state of music in France during the reign of Louis XIII. Indeed, Dr. Burney remarks,—his Harmonie Universelle is a work in which, notwithstanding his ‘partiality to his country, want of taste and of method, there are so many curious researches and ingenious and philosophical experiments, which have been of the greatest use to subsequent writers, particularly Kircher, as render the book extremely valuable.’ This work, corrected and enlarged, was translated into Latin, and published by the author in 1648, the year of his death, under the title of De Sonorum Natura, Causis et Effectibus.

In his twenty-third proposition, liv. i., Mersenne explains and describes twelve different kinds of music and movement used in France during his time: namely, motets, songs or airs, passacailles, pavans, allemandes, gaillards, voltes, courantes, sarabands, canaries, branles, and balets; of all which he gives examples in notes. But though most of these movements were the specific names of the dances then in vogue, the minuet, which during the last century was in such general favour all over Europe, is never mentioned.

In the Préface Générale, the author speaks of Galileo’s discoveries in harmonics; and in his liv. ii., Des Consonances, of sympathetic vibrations. In other parts of his work he clearly explains the twelve major keys of practical music; and shows, for the first time perhaps, that there may be seventy-two keys, or six for each note, flat, natural, and sharp, major and minor. There is nothing in this good Father’s book which reflects more honour on[Pg 162] his taste and penetration than his partiality for the violin, to which, in liv. iv., Des Instruments, prop. 1, he gives the preference over all other instruments then in use, at a time when it was thought unworthy of being admitted into the concerts of other countries.

One proposition in this book (xxxiv.) is to inquire whether the French method of singing is the best of all possible methods? and he determines in the affirmative, not only with respect to this, but affirms, that of all those he ever heard sing in neighbouring countries, as in Spain, Germany, Flanders, and Italy, he had met with none who sang so agreeably as the French. ‘There may,’ says he, ‘be now and then a miraculous performer in other countries, but I speak here in general.’

He mentions recitative as a thing little practised in France, for want of courage. The Italians, he observes, succeed in this species of singing, which Giacomo Peri had invented at Florence at the beginning of the century. Here he speaks of several musical dramas in Italy, but does not call them operas. (Liv. vi. L’Art de bien chanter.)

ATHANASIUS KIRCHER was born at Fulda in Germany, in 1601. At the age of seventeen he entered the society of Jesuits, and, after going through a regular course of study, during which he distinguished himself by his vast attainments in literature and science, he became a teacher of philosophy, mathematics, and the Hebrew and Syriac languages, in the University of Wurtzburg in Franconia. In 1631, when the Swedes entered Germany under Gustavus Adolphus, he returned to France, and settled in the Jesuits’ college at Avignon, where he remained till 1635. He was then called to Rome to teach mathematics in the Roman college, where he continued during six years. He afterwards became professor of Hebrew in that city, and died there in 1680, having written and published twenty-two volumes in folio, eleven in quarto, and three in octavo. Kircher was more than ordinarily addicted to the study of hieroglyphics, and it is said that certain young scholars caused to be engraved some unmeaning fantastic characters or figures upon a shapeless stone, then buried it in ground which was shortly to be dug up. Upon digging the place, the stone was found, and, by the scholars who had hidden it, carried to Kircher as a most singular antique, who, quite in raptures, applied himself instantly to explain the characters, and, as he perhaps persuaded himself, and certainly attempted to persuade others, made them intelligible.

The chief work of Kircher is his Musurgia Universalis, which is written in Latin, in ten books, occupying two volumes in folio, the first containing seven books, the second three. The subjects on which he treats are principally the following—of the propagation of sound—of the elements of practical music—of harmonics, or the ratios of sounds—geometric and algebraic division of the monochord—new experiments in the construction of musical instruments—of melody, comprehending new secrets for producing every species of melody (!)—a parallel between ancient and modern music, pointing out the dignity of the ecclesiastical canto fermo, and the means of arriving at the pathetic style—of composition, or the combinations of sounds, and the application of air to poetical numbers and rhythms in all languages—musical wonders produced by hidden means, and new experiments of all kinds—and, lastly, of the various derivations of music, and the physical and artificial purposes to which it is, or may be, applied.

Kircher was the inventor of the Æolian harp, which he thus describes in his Musurgia, (lib. ix. 352.):—The instrument is not only new, but agreeable, and very easy of construction, and every one admires it who hears it in my museum. It is silent while the window remains shut, but when this is opened, sudden bursts of harmony surprise the auditor, who cannot tell whence they proceed, or by what kind of instrument they are produced, the sounds not resembling those of a stringed or a wind instrument, but are a mixture of both. This instrument is made of deal, is fifteen inches long, six broad, and three deep. It may be strung with fifteen strings, or more, all equal, and of catgut.

This work, says Dr. Burney, speaking of the Musurgia, which undoubtedly contains many curious and amusing portions, is, however, disgraced by the author’s credulity and ill-founded assertions. Kircher has been truly called ‘Vir immensæ quidem, sed indigestæ eruditionis’—a man of immense but indigested learning. Yet, with all its imperfections, the Musurgia contains much ‘curious and useful information for such as know how to sift truth from falsehood, and usefulness from futility;’ for a considerable portion of which, however, he was indebted to the Harmonie Universelle of Mersenne, which appeared in 1636; the Musurgia not having been published till fourteen years later.

OTTO ON VIOLINS [72], &c.

THE professed object of M. Otto’s work is to guard purchasers of violins, &c., against imposition, and to show how such instruments may be kept in order and repaired. But it is quite clear that he has prudently had the main chance in view, and, while thinking of the interests of others, has not been unmindful of his own, for he takes especial care to let his readers into the history of his business, where he and his sons reside, and what—of course for ‘a consideration’—they undertake to do in the way of trade.

But while advertising himself and Co.—perhaps very justifiably—he has embodied in his pages a number of facts interesting to amateur players, highly useful to professional performers, and curious to all whose pursuits lead them to inquire into the state of the mechanical arts, among which is to be reckoned the manufacture of musical instruments; and if he has really taught ‘the best means of preserving a good instrument, and of improving a spoiled one,’[73] he[Pg 163] has rendered a service which entitles him to the gratitude of the musical world.

Many of our readers will be surprised to learn that a really good, a complete violin, consists of fifty-eight different parts, which the author thus describes:—

‘The wood used in the manufacture of this instrument is of three sorts. The back, the neck, the sides, and the circles are made of sycamore; the belly, the bass bar, the sound post, and the six blocks of Tyrolese deal; the finger-board and tail-piece of ebony.’

It appears that the peculiar curvature, or swell of the back and belly of good violins, is produced by scooping out of the solid wood, and not by pressing the material on heated moulds of the desired shape, a practice which the translator, in a note, informs us is common now in Germany, among the cheap makers.

M. Otto rather inclines to the opinion that violins might be now made equal to the old Cremonese, and thinks that musicians and dilettanti are blameable for not encouraging good makers, and for putting too much confidence in repairers. He seems to be persuaded that the rich, mellow tone of instruments depends much on the ameliorating effects of time; and his translator strengthens what is said in the original, by the following remarks:—

‘It may not be unreasonable to attribute the superiority of old instruments to time, which, by its slow but sure and powerful agency, mellows and softens down the asperities of many musical instruments, and in particular organs and violins. That the mechanical construction of the old instruments is in any degree superior to the present day can scarcely, upon mature reflection, be admitted, as in the present age, when every art or science is analysed and sought into with the most unsparing avidity, it is certain that many enthusiastic and scientific admirers of the violin have destroyed some of the very best instruments of the old makers, for the sole purpose of forming a correct opinion of the minutest proportions of their interior construction.... I feel rather reluctant in expressing my opinion, that were it possible to produce an old instrument, possessing precisely the same quality of tone as when first finished, no very great superiority, if any, would be discerned over the modern-made instruments, constructed with the care which would be bestowed upon a violin intended to be a pattern of the excellence of modern workmanship and science. I am, however, compelled to state that, as far as I can collect from many professional individuals, there is one reason why many of the modern-made instruments are so inferior to the old ones. It is this: many makers of late date in England, Italy, Germany, who had succeeded in producing excellent instruments, and in consequence established their reputation, as they imagined, in a short time after their fame had gone forward to the world, relaxed in their application, and became negligent, under the impression that their name having been once established, their instruments, no matter how indifferent they might be, would be well received. It is but justice to the Italian and the German makers, to state that they entertain a very favourable opinion of the violins manufactured in England. It may also not be uninteresting to learn that the generally received opinion, collected from various sources upon which reliance can be placed, is, that there exists at the present day, in England, a greater number of the genuine instruments of the old makers than, proportionally, in any other country.’

The following facts, stated by the translator, are very worthy of notice, and, we will venture to say, are new, not only to musicians in general, but even to many violin-players in particular:—

‘It is an authenticated fact, that the shallower or flatter the model of a violin is, the fuller is the tone. Many amateurs conceive the very reverse. On comparison, however, between a genuine Straduarius and an Amati, this will be immediately perceived. A Guarnerius or a Straduarius is of the flat model and powerful in tone. An Amati, on the other hand, has a very beautiful high model, very fine wood and highly-finished workmanship, and in the genuine instruments the purfling is inlaid very close to the edge, much more so than in any other genuine Italian instruments. The Amatis possess a brilliant silvery tone, but from the cause above-mentioned they are not so sonorous as the flatter-modelled instruments, particularly the Guarnerius or Straduarius.’

‘It is a prevalent opinion, as well with professors as amateurs, that the old Italian instruments have attained their zenith, and some even aver that they have been deteriorating.... Is it not probable that the improvements, introduced within late years, added to the patterns afforded by the old instruments themselves, which have been studied with the most intense anxiety by the most skilful artists of Europe, and of England in particular, have tended to detract from the value of the old instruments?... The Amatis, from their sweetness of tone, are preferred for accompaniments to the voice. In performances strictly instrumental, a Guarnerius or a Straduarius is more valued in consequence of possessing a greater body of tone.’

There are cheats in all trades, and in all quarters of the world, it seems; even the rude mountaineers, the simple Tyrolese, we now learn, are not guiltless of a fraud which it may be well to guard the amateur against—‘The Tyrolese makers,’ says M. Otto, ‘have carried on an extensive business, and put forth a great quantity of violins, tenors, and basses; the greater part of which have been surreptitiously palmed upon the uninitiated as genuine Cremonese or Steiners.’

The author then points out the forms and mode of construction of the violins of the most celebrated Italian makers. He says, ‘I have had under my hands about thirty Cremonese instruments, of the following makers. The oldest were made by HIERONYMUS AMATI, at the beginning of the seventeenth century. After him came ANTONIUS AMATI, about the middle of the same century. Then followed NICOLAS AMATI, towards the end of the same. To these must be added ANTONIUS STRADUARIUS, of Cremona, who flourished during the same epoch as the[Pg 164] above, and after them JOSEPH GUARNERIUS, at the commencement of the eighteenth century. All their instruments were constructed after the simplest rules of mathematics,[74] and the six which came into my possession unspoilt, were made after the following proportions. The belly was the strongest in thickness where the bridge rests, then it diminished about a third at that part where the f holes are cut, and, where the belly rests on the sides, it was half as thick as in the middle. The same proportion is observed in the length. The thickness is equally maintained all along that part on which the bass bar was fixed; from thence to the upper and under end blocks the thickness decreases to one-half, so that the cheeks were three-fourths of the thickness of the breast, and the edges all round only one-half. These proportions are the best adapted for imparting a full, powerful, and sonorous tone.

‘The back is worked out much in the same proportion as the belly, and is generally rather stronger in wood.’

‘HIERONYMUS AMATI, of Cremona, whose violins are the oldest, used the most beautiful maple, which has a very strong full figure, and, as far as I can learn, the greater part of his backs are made in one piece only. The figure runs from the left to the right side, somewhat sloping. The form of his violin is large, and the model decreases in a very beautiful manner towards each edge.’

‘The instruments of ANTONIUS AMATI differ but little from his father’s, though he was not so nice in the choice of his figured wood; yet in beauty of tone they are in no way inferior, if not spoilt in repairing.’

‘Those of NICHOLAS AMATI are conspicuous for having a somewhat smaller form and a peculiar model; the swell rises gently near the purfling, and afterwards springs up more abruptly, so as to form a difference of an inch in height between the highest part at the centre and that at the edges. They swell more abruptly than those of either Hieronymus or Antonius, and in the centre form a sharp ridge. For the rest, his instruments are not constructed with the same care as those of Hieronymus.’

‘Those of STRADUARIUS are remarkable for their flat construction. The model or swell on the back and the belly does not rise more than half an inch; they are therefore the flattest of all the Cremonese makers’ instruments. Those that are uninjured possess a very beautiful deep full tone. They are the most esteemed by concert violinists; for every virtuoso will obtain one, if he has an opportunity, at no matter what price.

‘Their shape is invariably very fine, but their corners are not quite so obtuse as those of Hieronymus Amati. The f holes are beautifully cut out and lie near together, as in all genuine Italian instruments; the back, the sides, and the neck are made of beautifully figured maple, and coloured with dark brown amber varnish.

‘The violins of Joseph Guarnerius are beautifully constructed. They are extremely similar in shape, model, and the cutting of the f holes, to those of Nicholas Amati, and are coloured with the same deep yellow amber varnish.

‘The instruments made by Jacob Steiner, of Apsam, differ from the Cremonese both in outward shape and in tone. They are higher modelled, and their proportions of strength are calculated quite differently. The nearest comparison which can be drawn between a Cremonese and a Steiner is this: a Cremonese has a strong reedy, sonorous tone, something similar to that of a clarionet, whilst a Steiner approaches to that of a flute. The belly is modelled higher than the back. In length they are somewhat shorter than the Cremonese. The sides and the back are made of the finest figured maple, and covered with a deep yellow amber varnish.’

The author now digresses, for the purpose of letting us know that for sixteen years he became a guitar maker, but that he has now given that trade up to his sons, for reasons which, as a matter of profit, are obvious enough. We may just remark, en passant, that guitars are now to be had in all parts of Europe, at less than half the price they used to be sold at. But M. Otto shall be heard—‘I must in this place observe that the guitar had originally five strings only. The late Herr Naumann, Maître de Chapelle at Dresden, gave me the order for the first guitar with the sixth or low E string, which I added according to his instructions. Since then the guitar has always had six strings, for which improvement amateurs have to thank Herr Naumann. As, however, for the last ten years a great number of instrument makers, as well as cabinet makers, have taken up this business, I have since then entirely given it up. When I receive any orders I turn them over to my sons at Jena and Halle, who are doing considerably in that branch. The substitution of covered strings for the D and G is a small improvement of my own.’

But we must return to the violin, and hasten to the close of this article; not, however, till we have communicated to our readers some useful instructions given by the author for the preservation of instruments.

‘I shall now,’ he says, ‘lay down some brief hints for the treatment and preservation of the instrument. A good old violin should be kept in a wooden case, lined with cloth or flannel, as the too great heat in summer, as well as the sudden transitions from cold to warmth in winter, are injurious. Too great a heat renders the wood brittle, which gives the instrument a harshness of tone, besides drying and parching the strings. In winter the too great warmth of a room produces the same effects.... Much greater damage is done to the instrument in summer by the flies when it is left out of its case. They get in at the f holes, and in a few years the inside of the back and the belly gets so much spotted with dirt as to feel like shagreen to the touch.

‘The instrument should be kept particularly clean, and the dust carefully wiped off the rosin with a linen rag. The insides should be cleaned out once every six months, with a handful of barley made warm, and poured into the f holes, and well shaken. The dust or dirt inside adheres to the barley, and is brought out again through the f holes. In order to preserve the strings a length of time in good condition and sonorous, it will be advisable to keep in the spare bag, (which should be lined with a piece of bladder moistened with oil of almonds,) a small piece of silk taffeta, slightly damped with the same oil. The strings should be rubbed with this piece of silk from the bridge to the neck, before putting the instrument away in the case, and when again wanted for use, the oil should be wiped off dry with a piece of fine linen, and particularly in that part where the bow is used.’

The best strings, called Roman, come from Milan, and the purest rosin from Prague, in the opinion of the author. He then remarks that much playing in fourths and in[Pg 165] fifths on a violin improves its tone, as ‘tending to extract the resinous particles from the wood’! If this be a fact, he assigns a reason; but afterwards declines divulging the cause of ‘this singular effect,’ from a sense of ‘duty to his family.’ This smacks rather of what is commonly called quackery; but we must make due allowance for the worthy man’s paternal care.

The present translation—which, on the whole, is well executed—will be found very useful to all violinists, especially amateurs who are not acquainted with the German language. In fact no violin-player ought to be without it, for the cost is trifling, the time it will occupy in reading cannot exceed a couple of hours, and the information it contains is of a very valuable kind.

DURING the last week but one in June, the annual COMMEMORATION of the Founders and Benefactors of the University was celebrated in the usual academical manner, and by several musical performances.

On Monday evening, June 17th, a concert was given by the members of the Amateur Musical Society, in the New Assembly Room at the New Inn; at which there were upwards of 500 visiters, who were all, and with good reason, much gratified by the performances they were invited to hear.

On Tuesday morning, June 18th, the vice-chancellor, heads of houses, proctors, &c. assembled in the Radcliffe Library, and thence proceeded to St. Mary’s Church, to hear a sermon preached for the benefit of the Radcliffe Infirmary. Full service was performed by the members of the different choirs in Oxford, under the direction of Mr. Vicary, who took the organ.

On Wednesday, the 18th, the heads of the University, the young noblemen, &c. attended at the Sheldonian Theatre, to hear the Crewian Oration, in commemoration of the founders and benefactors, &c., and also the several literary compositions to which the prizes for the present year had been adjudged. They entered and retired to solemn peals of the organ.

The Stewards of the Music Room, with that zeal which always marks their management, made ample preparations for two concerts to be given in the Town Hall, on the evenings of Tuesday and Wednesday, for which they engaged Madame Malibran, Sig. Tamburini, M. de Beriot, Mr. Willman, the clarinet, and many excellent orchestral performers, in addition to the force resident in Oxford: but the illness of Madame Malibran frustrated all their intentions, and the absence of an individual rendered unavailing, it seems, the talents of all the rest. Upon such occasions, why not engage a double; one who is able, if required, to take the pieces intended to be sung by the principal? Thus the accidents to which female singers are occasionally liable, and the caprices in which they more frequently are suffered to indulge, would be provided against, and the public be saved from that complete disappointment which the absence of the only female performer must necessarily produce.

When it was found that Mad. Malibran could not perform, the Stewards immediately issued a bill, announcing the fact. Nevertheless, about 300 persons were present. “At the commencement of the concert,” says the Oxford Journal, “Mad. Malibran was handed to the front of the orchestra by Mr. Nicks, and an apology made.... The lady certainly appeared ill; but it may be asked, if Mad. Malibran had been ill for three or four days, as stated, why did she venture to come to Oxford? But we learn that she played exceedingly well (at Covent Garden) on Saturday night. Be it as it may, Mad. Malibran has lost the esteem of the Oxford audience; many of whom were not sparing of exclamations against her when they left the hall.... The other performers exerted themselves to the utmost, to supply the vacancy; but the absence of the only female singer left a chasm that could not be supplied. Sig. Tamburini sang an extra song; and the powerful efforts of M. de Beriot and Mr. Willman, who generously played an extra concerto each, failed to restore harmony to the company.”

Now we cannot help thinking that the Oxford critic is a little hard on Mad. Malibran. That she was ill he seems to admit, and that she did all in her power to convince the company of the fact is proved by her having been a second time led into the orchestra, and, as she could not sing, sitting down to the piano-forte, and accompanying Sig. Tamburini in the air “Largo al Factotum.” Of course the lady did not receive, or expect to be paid, the 200 guineas for the two concerts.

An express was sent to London the same evening, which brought down Mrs. Bishop on the following afternoon; who, at the second concert, sang “Gratias agimus tibi,” and “Should he upbraid?” with much applause. But the principal feature of both concerts was M. de Beriot on the violin; who produced as much effect on a University audience as he had before done on the best judges in the metropolis.

Sig. Tamburini sang with great ability some arie of Rossini—(everlasting Rossini!) which were well received: but many wished that he, as well as other singers, would a little enlarge their repertoire, and endeavour to learn that there are other composers besides those of the last dozen years whose works are worth studying, and would be infinitely more acceptable to real judges of music than pieces which, whatever their merits, are worn threadbare, and become almost nauseous from frequent repetition.

Mr. Marshall (of Oxford) led the band at these concerts, and Mr. Vicary (a Mus. Bac. of this University) sat at the piano-forte.

OXFORD COMMEMORATION CONCERTS.

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

IT is very well known that many persons are annually induced to visit Oxford at the time of The Commemoration. The town is always unusually gay at this season. The friends and relatives of the students go thither to gratify the proud satisfaction they feel in hearing a brother or cousin recite his prize poem in the theatre; strangers, of all ranks and degrees, to hear speeches in Latin and Greek, of which they do not understand a syllable, and to see—the lions! Hence it follows that throughout both the University and city there is visibly a greater air of gaiety, more stir and bustle in the streets,[Pg 166] and in each “lane and alley green,” you hear more sounds arising from the “busy hum of men” (and women too) at this particular time than at any other part of the year. To, stroll in Christ Church meadow, and hear the “mighty Tom” beat the hour, or to loiter at sunset in “Addison’s Walk,” is, with many of those annual visitants, a classical event, much talked of, and never to be forgotten. You may not, perhaps, be aware that, at the Commemoration, it is usual for the stewards of the music-room to get up some musical performances, and which, for the reasons before stated, have generally been well attended. According, therefore, to their usual custom, two concerts were announced for the evenings of Tuesday and Wednesday, the 18th and 19th of June last, upon which occasion they (the stewards), with a spirit of liberality that has indeed marked all their former proceedings, engaged (and it is said at a very large sum) Madame Malibran and Signor Tamburini. Nor did they stop here; for in order to make the attraction still greater, and at the same time to render the performances as perfect as possible, to those eminent and celebrated vocalists was added M. de Beriot, who, I understand, is confessedly the finest and most finished performer on the violin either in this or any other country.

That the performers were few in number will not be disputed; but, to borrow a theatrical phrase, they were all “stars,” and of the first magnitude. With a view to accommodate the public in general, and that “the listening crowd” might meet with no impediment, the Town Hall (being larger than the music room, where the concerts are usually given) was, by permission of the mayor, fitted up, at a considerable expense, for the occasion.

The programmes were printed and circulated; and I beg leave to send you a copy of each, to enable both you and your readers to form an opinion for yourselves of what I shall venture to call the musical treat that was prepared to gratify the excited expectations, and realize the anticipated pleasures of, what was naturally enough conjectured would prove, a crowded audience: for, be it remembered, the aforesaid three eminent performers were new at Oxford.

FIRST CONCERT, Tuesday, June 18, 1833.

ACT I.

Overture. (Semiramide.)	ROSSINI.
Aria, Signor Tamburini, “Come un ape.” Cenerentola.)	ROSSINI.
Aria, Madame Malibran, “Voi che sapete.” (Figaro.)	MOZART.
Concerto, Violin, M. de Beriot.	DE BERIOT.
Duo, Madame Malibran and Signor Tamburini, “Di Caprici.” (Corradino.)	ROSSINI.
Concerto, Clarinet, Mr. Willman.	WEBER & SPOHR.
Aria, Madame Malibran, “Il soave e bel contento.” (Didone Abbandonata.)	PACINI.

ACT II.

Overture. (Agnese.)	PAER.
Song, Madame Malibran, “Holy, holy.”	HANDEL.
Aria, Signor Tamburini, “O colpo impensato.” (La Gazza Ladra.)	ROSSINI.
Fantasia, Violin, M. de Beriot.	DE BERIOT.
Duo, Madame Malibran and Signor Tamburini, “Bella immago.” (Semiramide.)	ROSSINI.
Overture. (Il Barbiere.)	ROSSINI.
Provençal Airs, Madame Malibran, (in which she will accompany herself on the Pianoforte.)
Finale, Overture to Lodoiska	CHERUBINI.

SECOND CONCERT, Wednesday, June 19, 1833.

ACT I.

Overture. (Anacreon.)	CHERUBINI.
Aria, Signor Tamburini, “Una voce m’ha colpito.” (Inganno felice.)	ROSSINI.
Recit. ed Aria, Madame Malibran, “Alma invitta.” (Il Sigismondo.)	ROSSINI.
Concerto, Violin, M. de Beriot	DE BERIOT.
Duo, Madame Malibran and Signor Tamburini, “Dunque io son.” (Il Barbiere.)	ROSSINI.
Fantasia, Clarinet, Mr. Willman	CUSELL.
Aria, Signor Tamburini. “Non speranza di grandezza.” (Edoardo in Iscosia.)	COCCIA.

ACT II.

Symphony, No. 1.	MOZART.
Aria, Madame Malibran, “Non più di fiori.” (La Clemenza di Tito.) (Corno Bassetto, Mr. Willman)	MOZART.
Aria, Signor Tamburini, “Sorgete.” (Maometto II.)	ROSSINI.
Adagio and Rondo Russe, Violin, M. de Beriot	DE BERIOT.
Duo, Madame Malibran and Signor Tamburini, “La ci darem la mano.” (Don Giovanni.)	MOZART.
Symphony	HAYDN.
Ballad, Madame Malibran, “The deep, deep sea.” (Accompanying herself on the Pianoforte.)	HORN.
Finale—“God save the King.”

So far all was well; and I think it will be allowed that the authorities here had left nothing undone that they ought to have done, in order to make the concerts literally as good and as attractive as possible. Well, sir, Tuesday, the day for the first concert, arrived; and about one o’clock the Worcester coach arrived. By the coach came Signor Tamburini and M. de Beriot, accompanied by Madame Malibran—and (most unfortunately) Madame Malibran came, accompanied with—what an Irishman would call—a great big cold! This was an ill omen to commence with. “Thus bad begins, but worse remains behind;” for just as the doors were about to be opened, the lady informed the stewards that it would be impossible for her to sing that evening! This proved a sore annoyance to the Committee, and a very great disappointment to the public, who were flocking in crowds to hear this far-famed prima donna; but on being informed that Madame Malibran could not sing, hundreds turned away without entering the Hall.

But how was the concert to be got through with only one singer? All parties were placed in a most unpleasant situation. An apology was made, explaining to the thin audience the cause of their disappointment. Signor Tamburini sang two extra Italian arias. M. de Beriot performed a third piece for the violin, which helped to put the audience in good humour. Mr. Willman played a second fantasia on the clarinet, and—and—and so the concert ended.

But while all this was going on, the stewards, it appears, were anxious to make some preparation for the next evening’s performance; and, not thinking it prudent to depend on any assistance from Madame Malibran, despatched a special messenger (who travelled all night) to London, with a carte-blanche to Mrs. Bishop, desiring her, if possible, to come down. Luckily the letter found Mrs. Bishop at home, and, at almost a minute’s notice, she very good-naturedly started, and arrived in time to sing at the second concert. It was fortunate this precaution was taken; for Madame Malibran’s cold and hoarseness continuing, she left Oxford at mid-day on the Wednesday, and returned to London. Mrs. Bishop was warmly greeted on her entering the orchestra. She sang three songs, and an Italian duet with Signor Tamburini, in all of which she acquitted herself admirably. She was (and most deservedly) much applauded. Still, however, the public disappointment was great in not hearing, Madame Malibran; and the concerts, which promised so fairly, and which every one expected would[Pg 167] prove most successful, turned out to be a very losing concern. But you know very well, Mr. Editor, that “’tis not in mortals to command success,” and so, sir, I shall bid you adieu, for the present, by signing myself,

Your obliged and obedient servant,
AN OXONIAN.

P.S. Since writing the foregoing, I have been told that the very day before Madame Malibran went to Oxford, she was prevented singing at M. Begrez’ Morning Concert, by a severe cold and hoarseness; and that on the evening of the same day, she literally walked through the part of an opera at Covent Garden Theatre, without speaking one word of the dialogue, or attempting to sing any one of the songs. If it really were so, it may be asked, why did Madame Malibran set out for Oxford? Or, if she would persevere in going, why did she not select some female singer from among her acquaintance to accompany her, and who might, in case of an emergency, be brought forward as her substitute? Should these questions be ever put to Madame Malibran, I hope she will be able to answer them satisfactorily.

CAMBRIDGE COMMENCEMENT.

CAMBRIDGE was more full this commencement than it has been for many years past. The meeting of the BRITISH ASSOCIATION FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF SCIENCE brought at least 1200 visiters to the University during the last week in June, and the concerts, which followed, tempted many of those to remain, drew several county families into the town, and induced the heads of houses, as well as numerous fellows, to continue in college longer than they would have done under ordinary circumstances.

The Committee for managing the musical performances made their preparations on an extensive and remarkably liberal scale. Among the vocal performers were Mad. Malibran, Mrs. W. Knyvett, Mr. Braham, Mr. Phillips, Mr. W. Knyvett, Mr. Horncastle, and Sig. Tamburini. The instrumentalists included Messrs. De Beriot, Lindley, Dragonetti, Venua, Nicholson, Willman, G. Cooke, Mackintosh, Harper, and several others of the Philharmonic band. Mr. F. Cramer was leader; Sir G. Smart conductor; and the whole was announced as under the direction of Dr. Clarke Whitfield, the Professor of Music; but whether he took any active share in the business, except to receive one hundred guineas for the advantage of his name, we cannot say.

The first concert was given on Friday evening. The fine symphony in D, by Beethoven, was executed with spirit. The air “Lo! here the gentle lark,” as sung by Mrs. W. Knyvett, was received with loud plaudits. Mr. Braham in “Oh! ’tis a glorious sight,” of Weber, and Rossini’s duet, “All idea,” with Sig. Tamburini, was extremely successful. Mad. Malibran sang the lovely aria “Non più di fiori,” from Mozart’s Tito, admirably; and her accompanyist, Mr. Willman, on the clarionet, was not less perfect. But in “Il soave e bel contento” she gave more pleasure to her audience—no very great proof of their judgment. Neükomm’s “Fantasia Concertante,” written for the Philharmonic Concerts, and there produced in 1832, was played by nearly, if not exactly, the same persons who originally performed it, and was heard with great attention, though, perhaps, not with that enthusiasm which it excited in an audience of London connoisseurs. M. de Beriot exerted himself to gain the same character in an English University that he has acquired in the British capital, and succeeded in convincing the Cantabs that he has no equal on the violin. Mr. Phillips, in the “Midnight Review,” the joint product of Barry Cornwall and M. Neükomm (for the poet is entitled to his share of praise in this), did not hit the taste of the company. Perhaps the mere name of Napoleon, in a colony of clergy, raises alarming associations. But Martini’s “Vadasi via di quà” was encored; an honour to which its distinct, beautiful melody and cheerfulness really entitle it. The room was not half filled, we regret to add.

The sacred concert on Saturday was miserably attended; so that Mr. Braham’s triumph, “Deeper and deeper still;” the “Benedictus” of Mozart; the “Deh! parlate” of Cimarosa, sung by Mad. Malibran, with “What though I trace,” and “Ye sacred priests,” by Mrs. W. Knyvett, were, we had almost said, thrown away. The concert in the evening was even more thin in company; and parts of the selection were not well calculated for the place. But Mad. Malibran’s “Una voce poco fà,” from Rossini’s “Barbiere;” Braham’s “Alexis;” the terzetto, from Il Matrimonio Segreto, “Lei faccio un’ inchino,” pleased much. “Largo al factotum,” and Horn’s song, “The deep, deep Sea,” were encored.

On Sunday, an anthem, “Let God arise,” with full orchestral accompaniments, composed as an exercise for a bachelor’s degree in music, by Mr. T. Attwood Walmisley, who has very recently been appointed organist of Trinity and St. John’s Colleges, was performed before the University, at Great St. Mary’s Church, and proved highly creditable to so young a composer, one who has not yet completed his twentieth year; and who, if he proceeds as he has begun, will, at no great distance of time, reflect great honour on his instructor, (his father,) and assist in raising the character of the English school of music.

On Monday the Messiah was performed in an excellent manner by the principal singers, at St. Mary’s, though the choruses certainly wanted strength. The church was completely filled, at very high-priced tickets, too. Indeed the terms of admission to all the performances were rather extravagant, and produced a smaller total than if they had been forty, or even fifty, per cent lower. The concert in the evening, at the Senate House, was also well attended, and went off with proportionate spirit and effect. Mad. Malibran’s national airs, sung to her own accompaniment, excited a very lively interest: one of them was loudly encored. Braham, in Attwood’s beautiful cantata, “The Soldier’s Dream,” Phillips in Neükomm’s splendid song, “The Sea,” and Tamburini with Phillips, in “Se fiato in corpo avete,” Cimarosa’s favourite but hacknied duet, seemed to delight every person present. The inimitable Lindley, on his violoncello, and the equally unrivalled De Beriot, on his violin, made the audience fully sensible of their powers. Indeed, everything was good, and received in a manner that proved the cultivated taste of the company.

However, the affair has been a losing one: the guarantee committee have had to pay a balance of 400l. out of their own pockets. The fact is, that the festival was ill-timed. It[Pg 168] came when all were exhausted by the breakfasts, dinners, and fêtes, given to the ambulant philosophers; and the prices of tickets were too high. London is now brought so near Cambridge by improved travelling, that the public performances in the metropolis are quite accessible to both gownsmen and townsmen, who will not very willingly pay twelve and fifteen shillings for what, by means of a short, easy journey, may be heard, in certainly a more completely perfect manner, for little more than half the money. Nevertheless, we give every credit to the gentlemen who have sustained the loss, for their boldness and liberality.

LIVERPOOL AMATEUR SOCIETY.

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

Liverpool, July, 1833.

SIR,

As I observe that you take an interest in whatever relates to the cultivation of music, in the country as well as in London, I beg to offer you an account of a Society which has lately been formed, on a small scale, in this town, leaving it to your judgment to accept or reject it as you may deem expedient. I have ventured to send it, because I think the Harmonicon is a valuable record of musical proceedings, and ought to be supported by amateurs, not only for their own sakes, but to assist in the promotion of the science; I shall, therefore, be rejoiced if I can, in the smallest degree, contribute to so desirable an object.

The society which I wish to introduce to your notice is called the Apollo Vocal Concert, and consists of a soprano and contralto, (ladies,) a tenor and two bases, with the able and esteemed conductor of the Liverpool Festival Choral Society as conductor and pianist. Their object in associating is for the purpose of practising the higher kinds of music, with a view to their mutual improvement; for which purpose they meet regularly once a fortnight all the year round; and to ensure a punctual attendance they have bound themselves, by heavy fines, to observe the rules laid down for the government of the society. So far its existence would not have been a subject of public interest, and unworthy of your notice; but the parties concerned, urged by several amateurs, and desirous of laying the foundation, if possible, of some sort of permanent musical institution in the town, determined on giving a set of four public vocal concerts; and the first of these took place on Thursday, June 27th. In order to defray the unavoidable expenses, and to secure the respectability of the meeting, none were admitted but subscribers for the set—each subscriber having a transferable ticket besides his own—the subscription being one guinea for the four concerts. The number of subscribers is limited to one hundred, which number is nearly filled, and includes the names of some of our leading gentry.

You will be surprised, Mr. Editor, to learn, that Liverpool, the second town in the empire, and distinguished, in other respects, by its liberality and splendor, cannot boast a single musical establishment of any description!—a most unaccountable, and, I had almost said, disgraceful, fact—only to be explained, even by those well acquainted with the place, on the supposition that no one likes to commit himself by being one of the first to give his name to a project which may not become fashionable.

It is hoped, however—seeing that most important undertakings have had small beginnings—that some musical institution, creditable to so opulent and important a town, may arise from the Apollo Vocal Concert. Unpretending though it be in itself,—it will at least show that a pleasant and unobjectionable recreation may be obtained at a very trifling individual expense. But a good band might be collected in the town, which by regular practice together would soon become efficient; and there is every encouragement to take such a step, from the example of Manchester, where the best orchestra in this country, out of London, is found at the Gentlemen’s Concert in that town.

I subjoin the programme of the public concert on the 27th of June already mentioned. The company, consisting of nearly two hundred persons, appeared to be not only satisfied, but extremely pleased with the performance; indeed, the execution of some of the pieces would have done no discredit to performers of much longer standing; and the members of the society have expressed themselves highly flattered by the manner in which their endeavours were received.

I fear I have taken up an unreasonable portion of your space: if so, you must either curtail this letter, or excuse

Your obedient servant,
UN ALTRO DILETTANTE.

PART I.

Symphony (in E flat) Mr. G. Holden and Mr. W. Comber	MOZART.
Trio, “Tremate! Empi, tremate,” Miss Johnson, Mr. Caird, and Mr. Pemberton	BEETHOVEN.
Cavatina, “Una voce poco fà,” Miss Potts	ROSSINI.
Duo Buffo, “Mentre Francesco,” Mr. Pemberton and Mr. Aubrey	COCCIA.
Scena, “Cœur de Lion,” Mr. Caird	G. HARGREAVES [75].
Glee, “Blest pair of Sirens,” Miss Johnson, Miss Potts, Mr. Entwistle, Mr. Caird, Mr. Pemberton, and Mr. Aubrey (encored)	J. S. SMITH.
Aria, “Miei rampolli femminini,” Mr. Aubrey	ROSSINI.
Finale, “Venite pur avanti,” (Don Giovanni.) Miss Johnson, Miss Potts, Mr. Entwistle, Mr. Caird, Mr. Pemberton, and Mr. Aubrey	MOZART.

PART I.

Overture. (Zaira.) Mr. G. Holden and Mr. W. Comber	WINTER.
Duetto, “D’ un bell’ uso di Turchia,” Mr. Caird and Mr. Aubrey	ROSSINI.
Song, “Batti, batti,” Miss Johnson	MOZART.
Terzetto, “Dolce tranquillita,” Miss Johnson, Miss Potts, and Mr. Caird (encored)	PUCITTA.
Scena, “The battle of Hohenlinden,” Mr. Pemberton	C. SMITH [76].
Glee, “Hark the curfew,” Miss Johnson, Miss Potts, and Mr. Aubrey	ATTWOOD.
Terzetto, “Pappataci!” Mr. Caird, Mr. Pemberton, and Mr. Aubrey (encored)	ROSSINI.
Finale. (Guy Mannering.) “The Fox jump’d over the Parson’s gate,” Miss Johnson, Miss Potts, Mr. Caird, Mr. Pemberton, and Mr. Aubrey (encored)	H. R. BISHOP.

[We wish all possible success to the Apollo Concert, and to every society of the kind, but cannot congratulate the founders of it on their choice of a name.]

[Pg 169]

HISTORICAL NOTICES RELATIVE TO THE VIOLIN. BY G. E. ANDERS, of Paris.

(From the German CÆCILIA.)

WHOEVER may hereafter wish to write a history of the violin, a desideratum in musical literature, will scarcely seek for historical notices in a book which, according to its title, treats only of old edifices, monuments, tombs, and the like. I allude to Millin’s Antiquités Nationales, ou Recueil de Monumens pour servir à l’Histoire de l’Empire François. In the fourth volume of that work, the author describes, among other churches, abbeys, castles, &c., the chapel of Saint-Julien-des-Ménestriers, in Paris; and a statue in the porch of this edifice, representing a man with a violin, affords to the author an opportunity of inquiring into the age of this instrument. It may be sufficient to observe, that this chapel was founded in 1330, by two members of the company, or guild, of musicians, which in the fourteenth century was very numerous. It received the name of St. Julian because adjoining an hospital which was so called, and existed up to the time of the French revolution, when, together with other churches and monuments, it was demolished. Millin’s work, therefore, is of additional value, because it preserves from total oblivion buildings of which there is no vestige left. The following are the author’s own words:—

The front of the chapel of St. Julian was very picturesque. The porch, executed in a neat Gothic style, consisted of a great arch with four niches. The frieze was decorated with little angels, delicately carved in stone, playing on various instruments, such as the organ, a triangular harp, with perpendicular (not horizontal) strings, the violin, (a three-string rebeck,) the lyre, mandoline psalterium, bagpipes, horn, oboe, flutes, kettle-drums, lutes, and dulcimer. In the niche to the left of the porch stood the image of St. Julian, and in the right-hand niche was placed, as is stated, that of Colin Moset; but it is more natural to suppose this to be the statue of St. Genest, the patron of musicians, and of their church.

The statue of St. Julian has a singular head-dress, is decorated with a wide mantle, and in the hand holds a violin. It has frequently been appealed to by antiquaries. The violin has four strings, and is quite similar to that of the present day. Unfortunately the statue is mutilated, and the right arm, with the bow, broken off. The antiquity of the violin has been the subject of much inquiry. Laborde, in his investigation, refers to the paintings of Philostratus, and maintains, that on a fountain represented in one of these a violin is introduced, which, with the exception of its shorter finger-board, resembles our present violin. He would not have committed so great a mistake, had he considered that we have only the descriptions of these paintings, not the realities. He further maintains that the fountain, with the violin represented by Philostratus, occurs again on the medals of Scribonius Libo; but these pretended violins are lyres, decorating a kind of altar, which the ancients called puteal, an appellation which Laborde very improperly translates by the word fountain. Terrasson has written a dissertation on the lyre (vielle), wherein he endeavours to prove that this instrument is of greater antiquity than the violin. He has found some passages in which the word occurs, and makes them subservient to his theory. But the words vielle and viole manifestly signify the same thing as violon; and vieller, violonner, the same as jouer du violon. The word archet and arçon (bow) which is always mentioned in conjunction with the lyre (vielle), leaves no doubt on this matter.

J’allai à li et praclet,

O la vielle et l’archet.[77]

But the defenders of the lyre (vielle) maintain, against all reason, that the words archet and arçon signify the winch or the keys of the instrument.

Maffei’s reference to a painting, representing Orpheus playing upon a violin, is as little to the purpose: every thing bespeaks its later origin.

It is indeed certain that the violin is an instrument of great antiquity, and may be traced to the earliest periods of the French monarchy. This fact is incontestably proved by the evidence of monuments, the most important of which is the statue of a French king, on the lower and right-hand side of the porch of the church of Notre-Dame in Paris.

Montfaucon, who has also given an engraving of this figure—though by no means a correct one—conceives it to be a representation of King Chilperic, because that monarch was the author of some hymns, and of two books of songs for the church service. La Ravallière has furnished a better delineation of this statue. Without stopping to inquire whether, according to the highly probable opinion of Montfaucon, that statue be a representation of King Chilperic, it is evident that the crown and the royal mantle are intended to represent royalty. The violin in the left hand has four openings or sounding-holes, the bow in the left is broken. La Ravallière has instanced another remarkable monument, a small basin, which the Abbé Le Bœuf; who transmitted it to him, conceived to be a production of the earliest times of the French monarchy. This was found where a royal palace is supposed to have stood formerly. It is gilt, and embellished with enamelled embossed work, and in all probability was used for washing the hands in. The design of the embossed work is divided into several compartments. In that of the centre is a harp-player sitting on a chair; on his right is a singer, judging by the roll of paper in his hand; and on his left is a violin player. In one of the lateral compartments we observe a violin with a double bridge.

The vignette of a manuscript of the beginning of the fourteenth century, which was in the possession of Gayon de Sardiere, exhibits the figure of a jongleur sitting on a high bench and playing the violin. As the manuscript contains the songs of the King of Navarre, the intention of the artist was to represent the jongleur in the act of singing the songs of the king, who is present with his consort, the queen. Both are sitting, and seem to be listening to the performer. The courtiers appear to pay him no less attention. These various monuments prove that the violin had been long in use among the jongleurs. The most celebrated people of this calling were the best violin players of their time; and the lyre was at all times but a very subordinate instrument.

The Antiquities of Struth contain many interesting figures. One represents an English fiddler, whose violin has only[Pg 170] two strings, while others have four. One has but three. This was during a long period the usual number, and the instrument was called a rebec. It is not exactly known when the fourth string was permanently added. Laborde thinks in the sixteenth century, and rests his opinion on the fact, that the best violins which we possess are still those which Charles IX. of France caused to be constructed by the celebrated Amati of Cremona. These are also the best models. But there is a drawing of the instrument by Matthew Paris, which proves its antiquity to be great. Perhaps it was only in the sixteenth century that its use became general, about which time the form of the violin, as well as the art of playing on it, reached a high degree of perfection. The violin of St. Genestus is no rebec; it has four strings, and is formed like ours.

It remains for us to speak of a singular dignity or office, which owed its origin to this instrument. Every company, or guild, had formerly a head or leader, who bore the title of king. The grocers, surveyors, barbers, &c., nay, even the poets, had their king: but the usurpations and arbitrary sway of these singular monarchs brought about their dethronement, and nothing remained of such royalty except the king at arms and the king of the fiddlers.

The history of the first kings of the fiddlers is not known, and it would be impossible to enumerate them in the order of their succession. The earliest on record is Jean Charmillon, who, under Philip le Bel, was chosen king of the jongleurs in the city of Troyes, A.D. 1295. Constantine, a celebrated violin player at the court of Lewis XIII., obtained the dignity of king of the fiddlers and master of the musicians (roi des violons et maître des ménestriers). He died in 1657, and was succeeded by Dumanoir, known by the name of William I. After the death of the latter, the crown descended to his son, William II., who abdicated, and thereby caused a state of anarchy. Lewis XIV. looked with indifference on the extinction of a royalty of this kind, and declared that he had no inclination to revive it.

The musical kingdom had long been troubled by internal and external feuds: the dancing-masters, supported by their leader, had for more than half a century carried on a warfare against their rivals, the common fiddlers, who, to the disgrace of their art, used to play in the taverns and beer-houses. They prosecuted the town-dancers, until, in 1666, they obtained a formal decree. No company was so rich in strife and turmoil; their contests produced a number of judicial sentences. The momentous object of these contests was the suppression of one string in the fiddles of their adversaries, whom they wished to bring back and limit to the ancient and legitimate form of their instrument, the rebec.

This interregnum lasted from 1685 to 1741, when Gaignon, a celebrated violin player, aspired to the rank of fidicinal royalty, and was honoured with it, by Lewis XV., on the 15th of June of the latter year.

But Gaignon’s government was too arbitrary; he wished to revive a number of obsolete privileges; and many musicians, especially the organists, successfully opposed his attempts, and Gaignon in disgust resigned his royal dignity, which was finally abolished in 1773.

The second bridge, above mentioned, is a matter of some surprise; for it is difficult to conceive what could have been the use of the finger-board, or indeed of the neck altogether, if the sounds of the strings were fixed between the two bridges. I have myself met elsewhere with drawings of this kind, the execution of which, however, is so bad and indistinct, that it is not easy to guess the purport of the little cross-stroke which Millin takes for a second bridge. Might it not be possible to explain the matter in a more obvious manner?—The sounding-holes in violins (our present f holes) have in former times often changed their figure and place, until the shape of an f was universally adopted. Sometimes they were in the form of a crescent; sometimes they were contrived in the sides of the instrument, either above or below. In short, their shape and place depended entirely on the fancy of the constructor: I therefore think it probable that the little cross-stroke may have been meant to represent, not a second bridge, but a sounding-hole.

WORCESTER MUSICAL FESTIVAL.

THE hundred and tenth meeting of the choirs of Gloucester, Hereford, and Worcester, for the benefit of the Widows and Orphans of Clergymen of the three dioceses, will be held at Worcester on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, the 24th, 25th, 26th, and 27th of September next. There will be, in all, seven performances—four in the Cathedral, on the mornings of the days before mentioned, and three Grand Miscellaneous Concerts at the College Hall, on the evenings of Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.

We feel happy in being able to make this announcement, because, from the great loss with which several of the late triennial meetings have been attended—(the receipts not having been equal to the expenditure, and consequently leaving a large sum to be advanced by the stewards, to make good the deficiency)—it was for some time very doubtful whether these musical performances, which have been so long established, and from which, we believe, all other of our provincial musical festivals have emanated, would, or would not, be continued. To prevent, however, the abandonment of these most respectable and useful meetings—(we say useful, because although, as we have before stated, a heavy loss has sometimes fallen on the stewards, yet the ends of the establishment have not been defeated, for the total amount of donations, and the collection made each day of the performance at the doors of the cathedral, amounting, on the average, annually to between 700l. and 800l., is invariably, and without the least deduction towards the expenses, distributed amongst the several claimants—we say, then, in order to keep up these respectable and useful meetings)—and that the objects of the charity may not suffer from their being discontinued, the following distinguished personages have most willingly consented to take upon themselves the office of steward for the ensuing meeting: Lord Foley, Lord Southwell, Sir Offley Wakeman, Bart., Colonel Russell, M.P., Osman Ricardo, Esq., Joseph John Martin, Esq., Elias Isaac, Esq., John Taylor, Esq., the Bishop of Worcester, the Venerable Archdeacon Onslow, Hon. and Rev. James Somers Cocks, Rev. John Davison, Rev. John Peel, and the Rev. Thomas Pearson.

[Pg 171]

To the foregoing list we have no doubt that other names will yet be added.

The music to be performed in the cathedral will be chosen from the works of Handel, Mozart, Beethoven, Cherubini, and other masters of the greatest celebrity, including selections from the following Oratorios, which may justly be ranked amongst the most highly classical productions, viz.: The Creation (Haydn); Mount Sinai (the Chevalier Neukomm); The Last Judgment (Spohr); the Deluge, a new work, held in the highest estimation in Germany, no part of which has hitherto been performed in this country (Schneider); and, though last not least, Palestine, the masterly production of our countryman Dr. Crotch. This augurs well for the undertaking; and that the music so judiciously selected may lose none of its charms in the performance, the following principal vocalists are engaged: Madame Malibran, Miss Clara Novello, and Mrs. W. Knyvett; Messrs. Braham, Vaughan, W. Knyvett, Ed. Taylor, and Mr. Phillips; with a strong and efficient chorus. Signor Donzelli is also engaged, whose splendid voice will no doubt prove a great acquisition at the evening concerts. Mr. F. Cramer will lead the band, and be supported by Messrs. Moralt, Marshall, Loder, R. Ashley, Lindley, Dragonetti, Nicholson, Cooke, Willman, Mackintosh, Platt, Harper, &c. &c. The repieno performers will be principally selected from the Philharmonic Concert; and to make the arrangements as perfect as possible, M. de Beriot is engaged as concerto player, who, we believe, is allowed, by all good judges, to be the most finished performer on the violin in Europe.

From this brief outline, it appears to no that the conductor (Mr. Clarke) has left nothing undone that is likely to contribute to the success of the meeting; and if novelty, combined with excellence, has lost none of its usual attraction, we predict that the meeting will be fully attended.

THE UTILITY OF MUSIC TO SAILORS.

THOUGH it is well known to every one that seafaring men of all grades are warm admirers of music,—that the song is as welcome to the admiral in his state cabin, as to the foremast-man seated on his chest amidst the lower-deck guns,—that the ‘soft complaining flute’ is constantly in request in the ward-room and cockpit, when less gentle winds than those which give it utterance are not blowing hard,—and that ‘sharp violins proclaim,’ in every part of the ship, except indeed the quarter-deck, Jack’s love for innocent scrapes, as well as mischievous ones;—yet we never knew music recommended, from anything like authority, to mariners as a pursuit, till we took up the Nautical Magazine for May last, wherein we find ‘A Sailor’s advice to his Son,’ a sensible essay, so far as the matter is concerned, in which the art of modulated sounds is mentioned as one that may, with the most beneficial results, be cultivated by the sailor, whatever his degree, for reasons that will be seen in the following extract, which we make with much pleasure, as it affords another proof of the increasing spread of an art to which our work is devoted; though we do not attempt to conceal that some allowances must be made for the style of one whose life has, most likely, been devoted to studies of more importance to him than the very exact value of a word, or the turning of a period.

‘The influence,’ says the sailor,[Pg 172] ‘of music in elevating the enjoyments and alleviating the daily disturbances of life, by lulling its cares, its passions, and its follies, into calm repose, is perhaps still more instantaneous. Music alone can open every avenue to the heart, and unfold the various treasures with which a beneficent Creator has furnished the susceptibility of his creatures. The most painful ebullitions of grief are stifled, and charmed into tranquillity by skilful music. To dissipate affliction, to moderate the anguish of severe disappointment, or to adorn the sparkling moment of festivity, music is equally powerful and efficient: it can quell the agitation of despair, and exhilarate with speechless tremor the heart, while it overflows with delight. Music is the language of those regions where happier and better beings reside, and its sympathy with the fine and tender affinities of our own species gives it unlimited sway over the modulation of our feelings. The mother’s lullaby to the darling in her lap breathes music upon us in our infancy; it affects us in various modes in after life—in the midnight serenade, in the festive tabor, in the shrill clarion of war, and in the full toned organ, which sounds a requiem over the departing reliques of mortal existence. Amidst the wildest scenery of nature, music can breathe sentiments of humanity in the breast of the most obdurate savage; and among the infinite gradations of civilized life can call down the monarch from his throne, can console the exile under his expulsion, and can elate the breasts of humble peasantry with jocund celebration of their evening repose. In its simplest form, music requires neither skill nor precautionary steps to find access to the heart—the ploughboy’s carol, the milkmaid’s ballad, the seaman’s ditty, or the recitation of the foreign mountaineer chanted with inartificial melody, produce powerful and pleasing sensations. But to create that intensity of feeling, which solely identifies itself with the accordance of musical composition, the corresponding symphony of which awakens from their secluded cells the sweetest and tenderest affections, elucidates emotions of hope, fear, surprise, terror, and joy,—and as the stream of harmony flows along calls forth involuntary exclamations of delight, wonder, and admiration—demands a much more copious extent of subject and execution. The sublime compositions of Handel, Haydn, Arne, Mozart, and Cimarosa, are of this description.’

THE MADRIGAL SOCIETY.

THIS ancient and excellent Society held its last meeting of the season at Freemasons’ Tavern, on Thursday the 18th of July, when a remarkably full attendance of members, and numerous visiters, showed that such music as is here performed, instead of producing satiety, as is the case with too many modern compositions, becomes more exciting and delightful the longer it is enjoyed. Sir John Rogers, Bart., the highly-talented President, was in the chair; and under the guidance of one possessed of so much knowledge and tact, aided, too, as he was, by such a host of vocal supporters, nothing less than so satisfactory, so brilliant an evening could have been expected.

But for this Society, the Madrigal, when by fashion—which always thirsts for change, and is generally tasteless—banished from every other musical circle, would, most probably, have been utterly unknown and lost to our generation. And even this very Society, the only place of refuge that was left for so masterly, so beautiful a species of composition, was, not long ago, in imminent danger of speedy dissolution; when its extinction was not only averted by the accession of the President who now sways the sceptre, but its means were extended, and its importance increased, by the addition of members in whom taste and rank are united, and it received a new impetus, which has given it a high place among the most distinguished musical associations in Europe, and ensures its stability and prosperity so long as its present course is pursued.

Of the dinner, though the best of its kind, and of the wine, which is equally good, being chosen for and reserved for this Society, we will not speak,—though far from holding the reasonable pleasures of the table in contempt,—because music is here the grand, the almost sole object. Instead, then, of laying before our readers the number and nature of the various dishes and wines, we will present them with a list of the musical pieces performed, the intellectual treat, after the cloth was removed—

I will sing of thy power

voices.

DR. GREENE.

At sound of her sweet voice

„

QUINTIANI.

Con la sua

„

LUCA MARENZIO.

Due begl’ occhi lucenti

„

GIO. PIZZONI.

Lo! ladies, where my love comes

„

RUGGIERO GIOVANELLI.

How springs each plant

„

QUINTIANI.

O that the learned poets

„

ORLANDO GIBBONS.

Phillis, go take thy pleasure

„

WEELKES.

Round about her chariot

„

ELLIS GIBBONS.

Since neither tunes of joy

„

BENNET.

Sweet love, if thou

„

WILBYE.

When Oriana walked

„

BATESON.

The Waits, a Fal la la

„

JER. SAVILE.

Some three or four of the above had never been tried here before, were quite unknown, but turned out real treasures. To the director of the music, Mr. Hawes, the Society is indebted for bringing these madrigals forward.

THE LEADER OF THE ANCIENT CONCERTS.

THE instrumental band belonging to the Ancient Concert, in testimony of the regard and esteem they feel for their leader, Mr. F. Cramer, have presented him with a very handsome and valuable silver salver. This reflects great credit on all parties. It is, unquestionably, most highly gratifying to Mr. Cramer, after having led the band for thirty-five years, to receive this flattering mark of approbation from his brother professors; and we hope he will maintain his post, and live many years to enjoy the use of so solid a token of their regard, which should (and we have no doubt but it will) descend to his posterity in the nature of an heir-loom. The simple circumstance in itself may serve as a stimulus, and, at the same time, prove a wholesome lesson to the aspiring young artists who are rising in the profession, and who may be destined hereafter to preside over a large orchestra, for it will show them that talent in a leader, when combined with agreeable manners and gentlemanly conduct, will not only entitle him to the attention and obedience of the band when in the orchestra, but, what is of infinitely more value, it will ensure him the kind regard, good will and friendship of his band when out of it.

THE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN.

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

June 11th, 1833.

SIR,

IN consequence of a low puff, in the form of an advertisement, having appeared in several papers, relative to the song of ‘The Old English Gentleman,’ I have presumed to ask the favour of your contradicting the assertion made through that medium, which is entirely false from beginning to end, indeed almost too contemptible to notice, and should have been passed in silence, but that I think such manœuvres ought to be exposed. It is a fact, that the very man who issued the article in question has been himself prevented from publishing the copy of which he so unjustifiably possessed himself, and of which he accused me of having robbed him!

However, to avoid all further contention, I have rewritten and re-set the song, and thus, in future, mean to sing it. This is not the first attack made upon me by the same person, who pirated the ballad of The Maid of Llammelyn when in its height of popularity, and issued circulars and advertisements to say that the song bearing my name was not the popular ballad—a declaration as false as the present.

I am, Sir, yours, &c.
H. PHILLIPS.

Hart Street, Bloomsbury Square.

[Pg 173]

REVIEW OF NEW MUSIC.

NOVELLO’s MASSES for Four Voices, with an Accompaniment for the Organ or Piano-forte. No. 1. (J. A. Novello.)
A COLLECTION OF SACRED MUSIC, adapted to the Hymns of BURDER and DR. WATTS, with an Accompaniment for the Organ or Piano-forte, composed by WILLIAM ATTER. (Goulding and D’Almaine.)

MR. NOVELLO, it appears, is republishing his Masses, of which the above is the first number of a second edition. Not being a new work, we must be governed by our rule, and speak of it generally only, though it would have been very agreeable to us to enter particularly into its merits; for it does not very often fall to our lot to be called upon to notice a composition, the examination of which is attended with so much satisfaction as the present has afforded.

We have always been of opinion, and see no reason to depart from it now, that in the Masses of the last hundred years—we might have extended the term—there is far too much levity, the solemnity of the subject being fairly considered; no small part whereof arises out of the accompaniments, which are frequently those of as opera air, and excite nothing but secular, not to say ludicrous ideas. Nay, to the very singers, who are pronouncing the sacred words, melodies are often given which would be well received in the ball-room as dance-tunes; and passages in them, strictly the same both in air and movement, may readily be found in quadrilles and gallopades. If Erasmus, more than three hundred years ago, complained of the lightness of the church-music of his time,—if Salvator Rosa, himself a composer, could not restrain his indignation at the profane melodies to which sacred words were set in the middle of the seventeenth century—in what language would these have uttered their invectives could they have heard some of the compositions of the last age,—some of Haydn’s Masses?

Mr. Novello carefully avoids such errors: there is a fitting soberness in his mass, a judicious avoidance of extremes, that prove his good sense; while the smoothness, the elegance of his airs, the richness of his harmony, and the able manner in which he has worked some of his subjects, are no less decisive proofs of his taste and skill as a musician. He certainly is not very energetic, nor does he evince much boldness of enterprise, but he is always correct; and, as a composer, gracefulness is one of his chief attributes.

Mr. Atter’s collection is of about seventy—hymns, we suppose they may be called; some few of which we have closely looked into, but must confess that we were deterred from going very far into the volume by what we met with in the early pages. The composer seems to possess a commendable share of industry, and a taste for melody, but we cannot say much in favour of his success as a harmonist; and, occasionally, his manner of setting words is not quite judicious. In the latter, however, he fails much less often than in the former; and upon the whole, so far as we have examined, Mr. A. appears to have entered into the intentions of the poets, and has expressed their sentiments with as much fidelity as musical effect will allow. Exceptions, nevertheless, occur, two of which we point out, lest the author should accuse us of being too general. At page 9, the emphasis is laid on ‘from’ instead of ‘caves:’ the preposition should have been set to the last quaver in the preceding bar. And at page 14, by means of rests after ‘we bless,’ the verb is made to act on the previous noun instead of the succeeding one. The repetition, too, of the words ‘flow down,’ and the bar of symphony between, will hardly fail to excite a smile.

Against the harmony we have to remonstrate before quitting even the second page. At the ninth bar of this is a chord of the sixth and fourth, which will displease most ears. But at page 11 is a chord of 7/4, which we should have set down as an error of the engraver, but that the voice part and accompaniment agree; and to ‘make the charm grow madder,’ the seventh rises to its resolution! But we persevered, and got on to the fifteenth page, when the following opening of a hymn convinced us that it would be needless to pursue our inquiry any further.

LISTEN

One word, however, as to originality, for which the composer, in his Preface, takes some credit to himself. Surely he is aware that his very first page holds forth to view an imitation of what is called The Evening Hymn; and the succeeding page will immediately call to recollection Haydn’s celebrated movement in A—that in his favourite old symphony in D.

LAYS OF THE GERMAN MINSTRELS, T. OTTO, F. BUSSE, A. SCHNEIDER, and F. OTTO, with the original German Words, and a Translation, by W. BALL. Book I. (Ewer.)
SONGS FOR LEISURE HOURS, composed by ROBERT E. BREWER. (Luff.)

FROM the title of the Lays, many may be led, and naturally enough, to suppose that the ‘Minstrels’ therein named are the poets and composers, as well as the performers, of them; but the executive part alone belongs to them, with the exception of one melody, the second, which claims Herr F. Otto as its author: the third is by Eisenhofer; the remaining four are anonymous.

The first, ‘The Sabbath Call’ (we give the English words only,) is a quartet for two tenors and two bases, entirely in the manner of our English glee, but with a piano-forte accompaniment. This is a pleasing piece of almost simple counterpoint, and would be effective, even if sung by voices only. The crotchet rest in the fifth bar of page 3 should have been omitted, and the two last quavers written[Pg 174] as crotchets; the sense of the English words would then have been unbroken, and that of the German not affected.

The second is a pretty, but not very new ballad, in E. For the commencing bars of the third, a song, M. Eisenhofer has undisguisedly borrowed the beginning of the Sicilian Mariner’s Hymn. This is in two movements; the first an andantino; the second, allegretto, in the Swiss style, and very common: the fourth boasts one novel feature, in the shape of what the composer calls a trio. The principal movement is in F major; the second (the trio, though for a single voice) in F minor, and the first is repeated. The fifth of the set, the time of which changes frequently, is overflowing with gaiety, both melody and accompaniment, and is the cleverest of the whole, though too long, the author seeming to think that certain passages—his favourites, no doubt—could not be too often repeated. The last in the book is a duet for two sopranos, very simple, easy, flowing, and the most popularly written of any in the collection. Thus the set begins and ends well; and when we have stated that the English words are correctly adapted, taking the difficulty of the task into consideration, we shall have said as much in favour of the present work as honest criticism will justify.

Mr. Brewer’s Songs, six in number, afford strong presumptive evidence that he understands music better than language,—that his knowledge of composition exceeds his skill in reading. And this, we lament to say, is a case of very common occurrence in the musical world, arising from an obvious cause, which we are unwilling to name; one that will not cease to operate till an efficient academy of music be established—an academy, or something of the kind, which shall make the general improvement of the intellect of students an object of equal importance to that of the art they are intended to practise. When this is brought about, (if it ever can be accomplished,) false emphasis, erroneous accentuation, and puerile conceits, will be as rare as undisguised consecutive fifths and unresolved discords; and composers will be looked upon in a far different light from that in which they are now viewed by the well-educated portion of society.

The first of these songs is an undeniable proof of what we advance: the music, with an exception which we shall presently mention, is clever—the emphasis abominable. ‘I watch for thee, when parting Day,’ is the composer’s manner of treating this line, thus throwing the emphasis on exactly the wrong words. Then after the word ‘day’ is a rest, though the author (Mrs. Cornwell Baron Wilson) has made it perfectly clear that no pause can be at all intended. And so throughout the whole song. In the sixth and two following bars of page 3 are octaves between the accompaniment and base, which are equally opposed to rule and good taste. If the composer intended to strengthen his base, he should have written these notes below, not above: as they stand, they form part of the accompaniment to the base, and are not allowable. But for such drawbacks, the song would have been entitled to great praise [78].

The second is extremely well set, the melody animated and pleasing, and there are points in the accompaniment (bars 5 to 8, page 7) which show more vigour than is usual in compositions of this kind. The third is very full of feeling, and charming altogether, musically considered; but here, unhappily, the words—their emphasis and connexion—have not been understood. In the fourth much is attempted, and little achieved. It is a very long song written to very few words,—to the following lines:—

The lark has her gay song begun,

She leaves her grassy nest—

which Kirke White assuredly never intended to end here, for he could not have thought it worth his while to record a bare fact of so exceedingly unimportant a kind. But the composer has given no less than five pages to the brief narrative, which include a brilliant accompaniment for the flute; this part, we surmise, being intended as an imitation of one of the lark’s best bravuras. The fifth affords a compensation for the preceding; it is melodious, expressive, and free from fault. The last, ‘a Fairy Song,’ is well imagined, lively, and agreeable; but here we find long notes given to short syllables, to connecting words, and lines joined that ought to be separated by some kind of pause,—errors which, though they are, as we well know, thought trivial by many composers, very forcibly strike the most sensible people, and often lead them to doubt whether music is worth the time and trouble which its cultivation costs.

PIANO-FORTE.

FIRST CONCERTO, with Orchestral Accompaniments, as performed by the Author at the Public Concert of the Royal Academy of Music, 1833; composed by W. STERNDALE BENNET. (Cramer, Addison, and Beale.)

THE concerto now before us is by a young musician, who has only just completed his seventeenth year, a pupil of the Royal Academy of Music, and is published ‘by the express direction of the committee’ of that institution. We were present when it was performed by the author, in the Hanover Square Rooms, and in our Number for May last have spoken of it in terms dictated by the impression it then made on us. We have now considered it deliberately, and unconditionally state, that, as the work of so youthful a composer, it is a surprising production. Even viewed without reference to his age, it is entitled to a very considerable share of praise, especially if compared with the current compositions of the day, most of which, including several by masters of some name, are inferior to it, both in design and in the manner of treating the subjects.

This concerto is in three movements of reasonable length: the first, an allegro—moderato in D minor; the second, an andante in F; and the finale, a presto, ending the piece in the key in which it began.

The principal subject of the first movement is resolute, and commands attention; the subordinate one, in F, is gentle and expressive, and contrasts well with the other. The motivo of the andante is a melody in which is much elegance, but less of decided originality; it is, however, a promising specimen of the author’s taste; though, had he adhered more to the subject, and spared some of the not very congenial runs of half-demisemiquavers, we should better have liked the movement. The finale is bold and energetic, and, in our opinion, the most effective part of the concerto. The spirit of this is kept up to the last note, and it has a unity which leads us to prefer it to the other movements.

The success of this work ought to operate on the youthful composer as an incitement to study and write much; but let us advise him to publish little at present, however flattering the temptations thrown in his way. What he may produce and think worth preserving, he should lay aside, and at the end of about half the period recommended by Horace to poets, examine and retouch it: then, having first consulted a judicious friend, he may venture into print without endangering that fame of which his present publication will have laid a very good foundation.

OUR readers have by this time made up their minds on the merit of the above airs of M. Neükomm, for there are few by whom they have not been heard: we have therefore no occasion to speak of them but as applicable to the purposes to which they are now applied by these eminent composers; and such is the charm of good melody—a very distinguishing feature in the ingenious Chevalier’s compositions—that it pleases, whatever the form it may assume.

These fantasias are calculated for a rather superior, though numerous, class of performers. Both have, as indeed a matter of course, an introductory movement, and are nearly equal in length. But the particular style of each master is obvious in his respective work. In the one, great refinement and expression, not devoid of spirit, are the leading traits; in the other, freshness of fancy, energy, and depth of harmony, mark the more vigorous composer. The introduction to the first is brilliant, and familiarly written: that to the second inclines to the grand, and is rather studiously composed; the syncopated passage towards the end is a charming bit of classical harmony, and the author is apparently aware of its attractive qualities, for he repeats it in the body of the fantasia. These will prove valuable additions, in every sense, to any musical catalogue.

No. 1 is to be counted among the least perplexed and extravagant of M. Czerny’s labours. There are two or three whimsical, but short passages in it, that serve to show his propensities, but, upon the whole, we can speak of this as an agreeable arrangement; the connecting parts and the additions to the original materials are in character, and a good player—for it is beyond the means of mediocre performers—will find it worthy of some notice.[79]

No. 2 presents us with six variations on one of the many common airs in an opera which good singing and some good acting have kept for a time on our denaturalized national stage. About half of these, the last, alla Polacca, especially, really take a form somewhat new,—a fact which argues favourably of the composer’s talent; for the writer of variations, above all others, must have learnt by experience how very little novelty there is under the sun. Altogether this publication has afforded us pleasure.

TO his Divertimento Mr. Cianchettini has prefixed a prelude, consisting of nothing but arpeggios in demisemiquavers, to the almost incredible extent of seven pages! We have been present when pianists have begun to indulge themselves in such long-winded extemporaneous effusions, but never had self-devotion enough to wait the conclusion; and we shrewdly suspect that if any one shall have the courage to play through the black forest of notes which has grown up under Mr. C.’s hand, the auditors, however numerous at the beginning, will glide away, till the performer is ‘left alone with his glory.’ After the prelude comes (mercy on us!) an Introduzione, in which the subject is, à la mode, anticipated. Then we at length arrive at Handel’s air; but how altered! how wo-begone!—transposed into B flat, and treated as a theme for modern descant! Had Handel added no variations to it himself, this would have been allowable; but as he has written many, and most fitting and beautiful ones, it was really a bold thing to render homage to the great composer in language which, however well meant, his spirit must view in the light of a very gauche compliment.

We know not the arranger, as he modestly terms himself, of No. 2, but whoever or wherever he may be, we feel indebted to him for a pleasant divertimento, formed on the original and beautiful march of Weber; the latter very advantageously adapted, and well set off, by what Mr. Vernet has added. The Introduction to this, à la militaire, is spirited and brilliant, and the whole is showy, without being difficult.

SELECT AIRS from AUBER’s Ballet-Opera, La Bayadère, or, The Maid of Cashmere, arranged with a Flute accompaniment, ad lib., by J. F. BURROWES. Books 1 and 2. (Chappell.)

These books contain nearly the whole of the opera, but not the overture, arranged in Mr. Burrowes’s matter-of-fact manner. We have always approved his plan, because he places within reach of most players what many would so adapt as to become useful to only a comparative few. He has given ten pieces, but as we know nothing of the score of La Bayadère, we are enabled merely to say, that he appears to have embodied all the essential parts of the accompaniments in his arrangement, so far as a pair of hands can take them in with that ease which is a main object with publishers who calculate on a large sale.

Of the opera we have had occasion to speak before; it is, intentionally we suppose, the lightest that the modern theatre ever produced, and prettiness is the only quality to which it can make any pretence. In fact La Bayadère is of mongrel breed, half ballet, half opera; the music, there[Pg 176]fore, is fitted to it accordingly. The overture to this will be found noticed in our next article.

DUETS, PIANO-FORTE.

No. 1 is certainly not likely to gain admission into the Philharmonic Concerts; it will never be put forward as the companion or rival to the Zauberflöte, Prometheus, or Freischütz overture, but is well suited to the Ballet Opera of which it is the gentleman-usher. Opening with a pastoral gaiety, then changing into a movement of bolder liveliness, but free from all those combinations, that modulation, so necessary to the connoisseur of northern climes, it is in good keeping with the music that follows, and with the temperament of those oddly-mixed tropical personages who appear in that strange, nondescript theatrical representation, called La Bayadère.

Nos. 2 and 3 have Danish melodies, or airs so called, for their foundation, worked up with considerable ingenuity by the late M. Kuhlau. No. 2, consisting of three short movements, is graceful, airy, and easy. No. 3 is also divided into three parts, but they are longer than those in the preceding, have cost the composer rather more thought, and require a quicker finger in the performer. Though there is nothing strikingly original in either of these duets, they have nothing vulgar, and little that is common, in them; and there is enough fancy and good taste in their composition to enable us to mention both in favourable terms.

No. 4 was, it appears, composed for her Majesty Maria Anna Carolina, queen of what state we are not told; and it certainly was not likely to puzzle her royal brains, for not a bar is there in it that had not, in some shape or other, been played by her Majesty during the progress of her musical studies. To compose anything new in the form of a march is undoubtedly a difficult task, and M. Czerny seems to have been determined that his two hundred and fiftieth opera should not be a work of labour.

VOCAL.

La Bayadère, or The Maid of Cashmere, a Ballet-Opera, composed by AUBER; adapted to the English stage by HENRY R. BISHOP. (Chappell.)

No. 1 is meant as a comic song, but we were unable to perceive the drollery of it on the stage, and are equally at a loss to discover any in it while lying before us. Certainly there is no joke in its great length. The air is quite à la Auber. It begins thus:—

No. 2 is a tender address from Brahma (the unknown) to the Bayadère, a delicate, pleasing air, though without stage action it will be thought somewhat long.

No. 3, a short trio for soprano, tenor, and base, in A flat, an andante, is one of those morceaux d’ensemble (all of them imitated from ‘Protegga, il giusto cielo,’ in Don Giovanni) which rarely fail of success; and this will be as welcome in the drawing-room, in a domestic party, as on the stage, where it always meets with the warmest applause.

MANY a professional composer would be too happy to call himself author of so pleasing and clever a duet as No. 1, which, in whatever way it is considered, proves the musical knowledge and elegant taste of the joint composers. Its style is Italian, but there are notes in the accompaniment which show that the writers are well read in the German school. Young as the ladies are who have produced this, yet there is a method and consistency in it that indicate considerable experience. They must have entered on the study of music with hearty good will, and pursued it with an earnestness which is rarely found in those who have no other object in view but amusement. We regret, however, to inform these very ingenious dilettanti, that the engraver has left so many errors—for his errors they clearly are—that it was with some difficulty we ascertained the intention of the composers in numerous instances; insomuch that we strongly recommend them to make a sacrifice of all the copies printed off, to have the plates corrected, and then publish another edition. They may rest assured that the duet is well worth the trouble[Pg 177] and expense. This is dedicated to one of the wonders of the present age, certainly the greatest musical phenomenon that ever existed [80], and is a well-timed tribute to such genius.

No. 2 is very simple, but set with great feeling and taste to well-chosen words. It is now in G, and was, it seems, originally in A flat. Why not have remained in that key? It would not have been at all too high for any soprano voice; and as it is, the B below the clef, to which it extends, may be too low for many singers.

No. 3 is a spirited melodious song, not a ‘ballad,’ as the authoress calls it, for it consists of three movements. The second of these, in A flat, the former ending in G, is much too sudden a transition from a key so entirely irrelative. There are two or three slight oversights in this, which may easily be corrected: and the title of the song at first view is not a little ambiguous. We really read ‘Sally’ as a prænomen, as a Christian name. Would not sortie answer the purpose?

There is much sweetness and grace in No. 4, and the words are most correctly set. It is remarkably easy, and, except a single A above the staff, is within the compass of almost every female voice.

No. 5 is pleasing and elegant, though it does not lead us to suppose that the noble composer has made much effort in search of new effects. The Baron, however, has set the words—a mild anacreontic—with a correctness that many an English composer may take pattern from.

No. 6, written for two young ladies well known in the fashionable circles for their charming manner of singing, is one of those compositions which never fail to please in the drawing-room, for which the author has exclusively calculated his duet. It runs much in smoothly-flowing thirds and sixths, but Mr. Lodge’s natural tendency to something beyond these, occasionally peeps out, with good effect, though without calling on the performers for any additional exertion.

No. 7 sings very agreeably of the most valuable quality to be found among the petites morales, good-nature. There is an ease and suavity in his ballad that well agree with the theme his muse has furnished.

These ballads are sung by Mrs. Waylett at the Adelphi Theatre, to whom they are not a little indebted, for she gives a character to whatever of the kind she undertakes, that scarcely ever fails to draw ‘thunders of applause,’ in the theatrical phrase. But they have also inherent merit. The first is playful and winning, and free from all vulgarity of cadence. The second is in a very popular style, with a pizzicato accompaniment, strongly marked in rhythm, though possessing little of that originality which is so difficult to find.

The first of these is one of those correct and gracious airs which always, to a certain extent, please when heard, but, for want of distinctness of character, are forgotten the moment the last note is sounded.

No. 2 meets our longing ears with something in the shape of originality, something which informs us that the composer has taken the trouble to think. Of the latter, the notes at the words, ‘whose voices came,’ is a proof, and the whole is indicative of reflection and knowledge of effect.

No. 3 is true German, both words and music. A giant ‘in sable armour’ goes to a grave-digger, (der Todtengräber)—and insists on being buried. The man of the mournful spade tremblingly complies. The grave-wooer lies down, his head resting on his shield, and is covered up. The sexton crosses himself, and the story ends; but what it means, beyond what is stated, we know not, and suspect that the grave-digger never was better informed on the subject than are we and our readers. The music has a grand simplicity in it that proves of what the composer was capable, and how much we lost by his early death. He was, most probably, impressed with an idea of something mysteriously awful in the words, and admirably adapted his harmony to his conception of the poet’s meaning, into which he penetrated further than we are capable of doing. This is for a base voice, and the English translation is adapted to it with an accuracy seldom attained.

No 4 is also very Germanic, and quite as full of horrors as the former, but of another kind. The poet here sings of two birds, who ask, ‘Where shall we dine?’ The one is in favour of the remains of some shipwrecked mariners, whose corpses look inviting: the other recommends the cold remains of ‘a new-slain knight.’ How the hungry ravens determine, the song saith not, though the arguments of the latter, who seems to have been strongly tempted by the jelly of the knight’s eye, most likely prevail. This really does not seem a lyrical subject, but the composer (an amateur) has made much of it. Indeed, we have here a work of considerable genius, pleasing in spite of the not very inviting story, and superior to most of the songs that come before us.

No. 5 is a clever and very pleasing song, with many beauties, and never a fault.

No 6 possesses the best characteristics of a good sea-song, without any of those vulgarisms in cadence which are often met with in music of this description. The melody is free, the accompaniment unaffected, and the effect of the whole agreeable.

No. 7 is also a sailor’s song, but of the gentlest kind,—of a mariner who sings of ‘The chime of the vesper, the music of prayer;’ so that nothing at all approaching to nautical slang is to be found here. The air is very pretty, and a short chorus, for three sopranos, at the end of each stanza, adds such to effect.

No. 8 is more elegant than new. The composer, a foreigner, may be excused some errors in emphasis that appear in this ballad, which may be corrected without much trouble.

DOUBLE-BASS.

METHOD for the DOUBLE-BASS, according to the English system of tuning and fingering, compiled from the treatises of MINÉ, FROHLICH, &c., and illustrated by numerous extracts from the Orchestral Compositions of HAYDN and MOZART; together with an explanation of the mode of simplifying ordinary Bass-parts, so as to adapt them to this instrument, by J. HAMILTON. (Cocks and Co.)

THE reader perhaps will start at seeing a treatise on such an instrument announced, but the double-base has risen to great importance in the orchestra, and requires a much more regular course of study than in days gone by, when all sorts of people undertook to perform on it.

The title-page of this publication so fully sets forth its contents, that it is unnecessary to add a word on that subject. The precepts are few and clearly expressed, but the examples are many and very judiciously selected.

We learn from the present work, that in Germany this instrument is mounted with four strings, which are tuned by fourths descending, beginning with C, the second space in the base; or more frequently with G, the first base line. In Italy, England, and France, only three strings are used, which in the two former countries are tuned to G, D, and G; in the latter, to G, D, and A. The double-base plays from the violoncello part, but generally an octave below that instrument.

It appears that the fault we complained of in our last, page 149, in mentioning a Fantasia by M. Chaulieu, is imputable to the London engraver, who mistook a new mark endeavoured to be brought into use by the composer, for the contratenor clef. See Acknowledgments to Correspondents.

EXTRACTS FROM THE DIARY OF A DILETTANTE.

June 8th. The following facts, which appear in the Court Journal of this day, are so correct, as far as they relate to Sig. Paganini’s recently advertised concerts, and the remarks are so just, that I shall beg leave to transfer them to my Diary:—

‘An extraordinary change seems to have taken place in the public mind with respect to Paganini: his concerts, on his first visit to this country, were so well attended that frequently his receipts exceeded 1000l., and on one occasion 1400l. were received, of which he had two thirds, leaving M. Laporte to pay the whole expenses out of the remaining third. On his arriving here, about two months ago, he was advised to defer giving any concert until the anger, caused by his refusal to play for the distressed English actors in Paris, should have blown over. It being supposed, however, last week, that this affair had been forgotten, and that there was every prospect of obtaining full houses, Paganini announced a concert for yesterday (Friday, the 7th June) evening. On Thursday, so few boxes and stalls had been taken, that Paganini, despairing of an attendance that would compensate him for his trouble, and dreading, perhaps, that there would be some disturbance arising out of the Paris affair, yesterday advertised that there would be no performance! M. Laporte cannot, we imagine, regret the disappointment, for if his agreement with Paganini be similar to the former one, he would have had all the expenses to pay out of a third, which would hardly have covered the charge of the musicians.’

21st. This evening Sig. Paganini had his first concert this season in the King’s Theatre, when he performed nearly the same pieces that he has so often repeated in London. The pit was not half full, the gallery not one-third, and the boxes almost empty. He advertises two concerts as the number he has determined to give. These will both be too many, if his second is no better attended than his first.

24th. The Globe of this evening has the honesty to point out the discordance in the account given of Paganini’s concert, in two Sunday papers of yesterday. Such things will happen so long as free tickets are accepted by our journals, beyond the number necessary for the actual use of the reporters. It is charitable to suppose, that the writer of the article, who filled the house so overflowingly full, was himself never for one moment within its walls. In this case he may have guessed wrong. But let us hear the Globe:—

‘PAGANINI’s CONCERT. We find the following discrepancies as to a mere matter of fact, in the account given by two of the Sunday papers, in Paganini’s concert on Friday. We, not, however, having been present, cannot decide between these two differing “doctors:”—

‘“Sig. Paganini had his first concert for the season on Friday evening, at the King’s Theatre. The excitement—probably by the delay in the Signor’s appearance, as well as in the novelty of the performances—produced an overflowing house.”—Observer. “The Modern Orpheus was employed on Friday in enchanting the empty boxes and trenches of the Opera House: never was there a greater appearance of desolation within its walls.”—Sunday Times.’

29th. A weekly paper of this date makes a great flourish[Pg 179] in an article most unluckily headed ‘critical blunders,’ in which the writer himself commits a couple of choice and entertaining étourderies, much resembling certain small paragraphs, served up for the public amusement in a daily paper, on Monday mornings, and probably from the same goose quill. The learned article runs thus:—

‘Critical Blunders. Certain journalists, our contemporaries, have been somewhat severe upon the “extravagant trash” forming the original libretto of “The Magic Flute,” being, we conclude, unaware that the opera of [the] Zauberflöte is one of the early works of Goethe. The character of Papageno is, in fact, one of the most elegant of his fantastic creations.’

Now it happens, that the drama in question—if such a farrago of nonsense is to be dignified by such a title—was written by Emanuel Schickaneder, proprietor of a suburb theatre at Vienna, who, pleading his embarrassed circumstances, persuaded Mozart to set the opera, and was saved from ruin by the success of the piece. But to saddle the character of Papageno, the bird-catcher, on Goethe, would be ‘too bad,’ were it not so vastly comical. ‘One of his most elegant creations,’ too! Who has now been hoaxing the unhappy victim of many a joke?

—I think I trace the identical pen that wrote the above, in the annexed, which appeared in the very some paper:—

‘Titled Opera Singers. It might be inferred that Louis XIV., in founding the French opera, was gifted with second sight, or had anticipated an era when Count de Rossys, Count Giustinianis, and other high mightinesses, would bestow their titles upon the play bills. By the letters patent of the foundation in 1672, it was enacted, that “all gentlemen, and other distinguished persons, might sing at the said opera, without forfeiting their titles of nobility, places, rights, or immunities.” Louis XIV., and his successor, Louis XV., were frequently performers in the court masques and ballets.’

Here are other blunders, by implication! Paul ought to have known, because he knows every thing, that no Count Rossi (not Rossy), no Count Justiniani, ever appeared on any stage. Madame Camporese, the actual wife of the latter, and Madlle. Sontag, who became the wife of the former, were performers, no doubt; but the one suppressed her title, and the other had none to suppress.

July 1st. Legitimate music, it is to be feared, is in danger of suffering the fate of the legitimate drama; both are becoming the victims of freshly-imported foreigners, who, whatever their other knowledge may be, are well acquainted with the weak side of our West-Endians. On Saturday last, at a concert for the benefit of Madlle. Pixis, two instances of egregious folly were displayed: the one a performance of the overture to the Zauberflöte, on three piano-fortes, by twelve hands; the other, a Quatuor Concertante, for four piano-fortes! The ‘confusion worse confounded,’ thus produced, may be imagined, not described. Some such piece of foolery was exhibited at Vienna last year, and justly reprobated by the good, uninfluenced German critics; but as it would not do a second time, even in the Austrian capital, the exploit was repeated in a country which, having paid upwards of 20,000l. to hear an Italian play on one fiddle-string, it was reasonably supposed would encourage any other kind of musical nonsense.

July 3d. Sunday the 30th of June was a high festival day at Tadcaster, says a Yorkshire paper, on ‘account of the opening of a large organ, built by Elliott and Hill, of London, who erected the stupendous instrument in York Cathedral. The fact having been publicly announced, occasioned a great influx of visiters from York and the surrounding country, and Tadcaster has not presented so lively a scene for some time. Dr. Camidge performed on the instrument with the greatest ability, and the numerous congregation, which crowded every part of the church, were highly gratified by hearing the full harmony of the organ, which possesses vast richness of tone, peal forth in that grand melody, the Old Hundredth Psalm, with which the morning service commenced.’

There is now hardly a church of any importance which does not boast an organ, and generally one of large dimensions. This alone is a proof of the advance of music in Great Britain; for of all instruments the organ is the noblest, the most capable of producing great effects, in the hands of a good harmonist, of a performer of sense, who feels that he himself is appearing to advantage only when in solemn or in sober music he is displaying the best qualities, exhibiting the real character, of an instrument that is absolutely desecrated by any attempt at what is called brilliancy of execution.

4th. This morning a concert was given at Willis’s Rooms, by Mr. Osborne, a native of Ireland, I believe, but who has passed much of his life on the Continent, in which he, for the first time, exhibited his talents as a piano-forte player, before a London audience, and was very favourably received. His sister, also, Miss Saunders Osborne, made her débût, and appears to have studied in a good vocal school.

12th. In a work very lately published (The Infirmities of Genius Illustrated, &c. by R. R. Madden, Esq.) the author has given lists of twenty persons of different professions, with the ages at which they died, for the purpose of showing the influence of various intellectual pursuits on longevity. In his selection of musical composers he might have been more successful as regards the eminence of the individuals, though the result would not have differed very widely. The following are the names he has chosen, and the ages at which they died:—

But Dr. Burney cannot be classed as a great musical composer; and Mr. Madden has omitted names of infinitely more celebrity, as well as real merit, than some he has inserted; I would therefore propose the following list.

In relation to composers, he remarks,—‘musical composition demands extraordinary sensibility, an enthusiastic imagination, an instinctive taste, rather than deep thought. The same qualities differently directed make the poet. Is it, then, to be wondered at, that we should find the poets and the musical composers shorter lived than the followers of all other learned and scientific pursuits, whose sensibilities are not exercised by their studies, whose imaginations are not wearied by excessive application and enthusiasm?’ But Mr. Madden overlooks other causes quite as operative as those he enumerates.

COMMEMORATION OF SIR THOMAS GRESHAM.

THIS took place in Haberdashers’ Hall, on Thursday, July 4, when the Gresham Prize Medal, for the best composition in sacred vocal music, was presented to Mr. K. J. Pye, whose successful work is an Anthem for five voices, ‘Turn thee again, O Lord!’ This was sung before a respectable company assembled on the occasion, among whom were Lord Burghersh, Sir John Rogers, Bart., Sir Robert Fitzwygram, Bart., Alderman Copeland, M.P., &c., who acted as directors. A small band, led by Sig. Spagnoletti, was engaged, and the following appropriate compositions were performed after the anthem:—

Then, after a short interval, the subjoined pieces were sung by a professional party who attended for the purpose, Mr. Novello officiating as conductor:—

And Mr. Distin performed on the trumpet the voice part of the ‘Soldier tired of War’s alarms,’ from Artaxerxes, in which he displayed an extraordinary command over this difficult instrument.

CATHEDRAL MUSIC.—GRESHAM PRIZE MEDAL.

A GOLD MEDAL, of five guineas value, will be annually awarded by DR. CROTCH, Professor of Music in the University of Oxford; R. J. S. STEVENS, Esq. Professor of Music in Gresham College; and WILLIAM HORSLEY, Esq. Mus. Bac. Oxford; for the best original composition in Sacred Vocal Music, either Hymn or Anthem.

The words to be selected from the Canonical Scriptures, Apocrypha, or Liturgy of the church of England, and to be set for three, four, or five voices, with a separate part for the organ.

The music to be entirely new; and one composition only to be sent in by each candidate.

Each composition to be distinguished by a motto. A sealed paper, inclosing the composer’s name and address, to be endorsed with the same motto.

The successful composition will remain the property of the author. The unsuccessful candidates may receive back their compositions, on producing a written copy of the motto.

The candidates are to send their compositions, in score, fairly written out, to the Gresham Lecture Room, at the Royal Exchange, before the end of October, on any Wednesday in Term, between the hours of twelve and two. Or they may be left in the care of Messrs. Smith, Elder, and Co., Booksellers, Cornhill; or of Mr. J. A. Novello, 67, Frith-street, Soho, by whom they will be duly forwarded, and who will give any further information that may be required.

It is intended to hold the next Commemoration on Saturday, June 7, 1834, being the Anniversary of the Day on which Sir Thomas Gresham laid the First Stone of the Royal Exchange.

FOREIGN MUSICAL REPORT.

ROSSINI’s Italienerinn (Italiana in Algeri) has been produced on the Josephstädter Theater, but the admirers of his music were less satisfied with this composition than with the former operas of the maestro. This may in some degree have been owing to the sudden indisposition of one of the principal singers, whose part was but indifferently filled by a substitute.

The fourth and last Concert of the Society of the Friends of Music in the Austrian dominions took place on the 24th of March.

Mr. Klein, member of the Hofoperntheater, gave a concert on the 8th of April. The musical world already recognizes him as one of the first virtuosi of the present day on the clarinet, and his performance on this occasion added if possible to his former fame.

Spring festivals have been given in all our public gardens, and our most celebrated composers of dances have contributed thereto their latest labours. Strauss’ and Lanner’s orchestras are certain of attracting the public in crowds. The finest weather adds to the popularity of these entertainments, and the influenza, with which we are still visited, does not prevent the jovial Viennese from seizing upon pleasure wherever it is to be met with.

The celebrated violinist, Lafont, performed before the[Pg 181] Imperial Court on the 18th of May. He executed the two compositions of his own which he had previously given at a concert in the Hall of the Musical Society. Of all the violinists that we have heard, he possesses most true taste. He has the secret to touch the heart, and executes forcible and rapid passages with neatness and certainty, without that capricious violation of the rules of art, which ends in the surmounting of difficulties only.

BERLIN.

GRAUN’s Passions—Cantata the Death of Jesus was given on Good Friday in the Singing Academy, for the benefit of the treasury of the institution. The room was overflowing, although the prevailing influenza prevented two of our principal female singers from co-operating on this occasion. Besides the above, we had two concerts which demand notice. The first was given by a young musician, Herr Otto Nicolai, from Königsberg, in Prussia, with a view of introducing himself to the public as a composer, singer, and pianist; in each of these capacities he displayed considerable talent and diligent study. There are several good ideas in a symphony of his composition. The allegro is well arranged, and the ideas properly connected. The instrumentation is effective, and on the whole there is a praiseworthy endeavour to follow Beethoven’s style, especially in the scherzo. The symphony deserved and gained an encouraging reception. As a vocal composer, Herr Nicolai proved, in a bass scena—Tell auf der Strasse nach Küssnacht, that he was well versed in this department.

The second concert, given under the direction of the music director, Mr. Möser, was one of the most attractive of the whole season. A new concertino (the composer of which was not mentioned) was executed by Mr. Möser with much youthful fire, and with a vigour and expression that evinced a true and deep feeling for the art. The concert terminated with a poem by Mosengeil, delivered in a most expressive manner by Mad. Crelinger and M. Devrient, and interspersed by some of Beethoven’s genial music to Goethe’s tragedy of Egmont, thus forming a lyric scena, which recalled to the recollection of the public the above neglected drama, while, on the other hand, the poem led to the revival of the sublime and unrivalled work of Beethoven’s. This melo-dramatic performance, exhibited for the first time in this form, created a deep and universal sensation.

In consequence of the epidemic, which also affected many of the individuals of the Royal Opera, the representations were frequently weakened, or suspended; nevertheless Miss Grünbaum, as Pamina, and Amazili in the opera of Jessonda, sang very fairly; and an equal share of praise is due to Mr. Hoffman in the characters of Nadori and Otello.

In the Königstadt Theater, Mad. Schodel, from Vienna, appeared with considerable success in several operas, more particularly as Julie in Bellini’s Capuletti e Montecchi, as Isoletta in the Unbekannte (Straniera), and as Henriette in Auber’s Braut (La Fiancée). Mad. Schodel’s voice is a somewhat thin soprano, and rather piercing in the higher notes, but with a little moderation and increased cultivation its force may render her a valuable acquisition to the stage. A pleasing exterior, and the energy of youth, are favourable points in this lady’s dramatic performances.

M. Kalkbrenner is arrived here. He left Paris towards the end of March, and has successively visited Francfort, Carlsruhe, Stuttgard, Leipsig, and Dresden, and everywhere has given concerts which have been as successful as enthusiastically applauded. In Germany, especially, his grand and pure style, his energy and brilliancy, have been universally admired. He proposes to give in this, his native city, a series of concerts, which, doubtless, will charm all our true connoisseurs.

DRESDEN.

BARON MILTIZ’s opera seria, Saul, the admirable text of which was furnished by his Royal Highness Prince John, displays in its full force the talent of the composer in the serious department of the operatic drama; the overture and the choruses are excellent. Wächter performed the part of Saul, Mad. Schröder Devrient Michal, and Babnigg David. The opera was represented thrice in one week with the greatest applause.

Madlle. Maschinka Schneider, daughter of the Prussian Capellmeister Schneider, is engaged at our opera, and sang, for the first time, in April, at a concert in the palace, and appeared afterwards in the Barber of Seville. The nuptials of the Prince co-Regent with the Princess Maria of Bavaria were celebrated by a drama written for the occasion, by Theodor Hell, and composed by the Capellmeister Reissiger; the title is, Der Erde reinstes Glück (Earth’s Purest Happiness), and the plot, which is founded on a contest between Titania and Oberon, as to the purest happiness to be enjoyed by mortals, skilfully connects some of the most brilliant events of former ages with remarkable occurrences of the present times. There is an attractive troubadour-like sweetness in the music, which was deservedly applauded, especially the sprightly and cheerful choruses.

MUNICH.

HANDEL’s classical work, Alexander’s Feast, was performed here on the 31st of March, by an orchestra (vocal and instrumental) of two hundred individuals; its masterly execution drew bursts of applause from the numerous audience which filled the great saloon of the Odeon.

Mr. Schinn of Pesth made his debût in the part of the Podestà in the Diebische Elster (La Gazza Ladra). He is reported to possess a fine voice, and a cultivated musical taste. The first opera to be brought out under the new direction of our establishment is stated to be William Tell.

The Royal Hofmusikus Böhm has, by his great mechanical talents, given such perfection to the flute, that all the tones of the instrument are rendered equally full, pure, and vibrating. Its pianos are uncommonly sweet and delicate, and the fortes exceed by far the power of an ordinary flute. In addition to these advantages, this new instrument presents an equal facility in all the keys, the most difficult not excepted. Although Mr. Böhm has only practised this new instrument for about six months, his execution upon it is almost as great as on the flute hitherto in use. He is on the point of setting out on a professional journey to England.

PRAGUE.

THE only real novelty upon our boards was Udalrich and Bozena, a romantic opera in three acts, by F. V. Ernst, the music by Capellmeister Skraup. The various prior compositions of this author scarcely justified an expectation of so good a work as the present opera, the score of which furnishes evidence of meritorious exertions and progress in the art. Like all new operas, however, it presents reminiscences, but it is distinguished by a richness of melody not to be found in Mr. Ernst’s prior labours.[Pg 182] Among the best pieces in the opera are the aria of Bozena (Demlle. Lutzer), that of Udalrich (Mr. Driska), and that of Borowin (Mr. Podhorsky), as also the romance of the above lady, and her duet with the duke, the spirited allegro of which was every time encored. As further favourable specimens, we might quote the trio between Borowin, Udalrich, and Ladka (Demlle. Pittner), a quartet, and all the three finales. The overture is a weak composition.

The reception was enthusiastic, and the execution, while it gave proof of careful rehearsal, did great honour to our vocal company.

FRANKFORT.

THE opera of Robert the Devil has been brought out here at an expense of 8000 florins, and met with enthusiastic applause. Its performance will be additionally impressed on our memory, for, during its representation on the 3rd of April, our city was suddenly thrown into confusion by riots and bloodshed, caused by a small band of political fanatics.

Valeria, an opera by M. Aloys Schmidt, has been brought out here. While this work certainly exhibits some original and agreeable traits, it abounds in reminiscences of Beethoven, Cherubini, and Mozart. However, it has succeeded.

LEIPZIG.

KALKBRENNER gave a concert here on the 3rd of May. He is proceeding to Petersburg, and intends being at Vienna in August.

A theoretical work has recently issued here, from the press of Messrs. Breitkopf and Härtel, entitled Aesthetisch-historische Einleitung in die Wissenschaft der Tonkunst (Aesthetical and Historical Introduction to the Science of Music), by Dr. William Christian Müller, in two volumes. The first volume bears the separate title, Essay on an Aesthetical Theory of Music, and treats in twenty chapters this extensive branch of the art, in a very clear and satisfactory manner. The second volume contains the chronology of music, the history of its cultivation, divided into ten epochas, from the dark ages of mythology to the present time. The industry and care of the author are praiseworthy, and are sufficiently displayed in numerous references and quotations.

WEIMAR.

IN the Easter week a new opera was produced here, under the title of The Traitor in the Alps. The text by Seidel and the music by Genast are, according to the opinion of competent judges, of superior merit.

KÖNIGSBERG.

ON the 3rd and 10th of October, the music director, Mr. Saemen, produced Handel’s Alexander’s Feast. On the 18th October, and 14th November, the music director, Mr. Riel, gave, for charitable purposes, Handel’s Messiah, in the Lobnicht Church. On the 25th, 27th, and 31st of October, three Tyrolese minstrels gave concerts of national airs. They are jovial people, expert enough in musical tricks, such as yodling, falsetto, &c., but are anything but artists.

On the 31st October, Mr. Louis Mauer, from Hanover, gave a concert; among the pieces of which we have to notice a concertino for the violin, fantasias on melodies of the Dumb Girl of Portici, executed by Mr. L. Mauer, and variations of Mayseder, by Wsewolod Mauer. The father and son played also a rondo à la polacca for two violins; variations for two violins and violoncello, upon the Cloak Song, from Leonora, the whole composed by L. Mauer.

The theatre has furnished little of marked interest; Mr. Rosicke of the Berlin Königstadt Theater appeared in various characters, with success, more particularly as Wallheim in Leonora. Mr. Heckscher, a new engagement from the Brunswick Court Theatre, made his appearance as Don Juan, Count Wetter von Strahl, Caspar in the Freyschutz, Lord Cockburn in Fra Diavolo, &c. The experienced actor is easily recognised in this gentleman, who possesses a powerful bass voice, but of which he does not always avail himself to the best advantage. On the 16th of October was performed, for the benefit of Miss Hulda Schaffner, Je toller, je besser (Une Folie), by Méhul.

The principal novelty on our boards was the production, on the 6th December, of the opera of Imogen (founded on Shakspeare’s Cymbeline), a composition of our worthy music director, Mr. Sobolewski, who, according to report, has also furnished the poem. Mr. S. has raised himself from the ranks in music to his present situation of commander-in-chief, and, by this opera, has furnished a new proof of musical talent of a superior order.

STRASBURG.

OUR German Opera, under the direction of Mr. Weinmüller, commenced the season with the Freyschutz. The performance met with considerable success, although the company is not as yet complete.

BRUSSELS.

THE King of the Belgians has been pleased to accept the dedication of the score of the opera William of Nassau, and, in proof of his satisfaction, has transmitted to the music director, Mezeray, a very flattering letter, accompanied with a diamond ring.

Monsieur Fétis is arrived, with the view of making the necessary arrangements for his future residence in this city; he has been nominated Maître de Chapelle of his Majesty, as well as Music Director and Professor at the Conservatoire.

ST. PETERSBURG.

BARMAN, the clarionet player, who has spent last winter in the higher northern latitudes, is at present here; wherever he appeared he was received with the greatest applause.

MILAN.

Il Contrabbandiere, a melo-drame in two acts, the music by Cesare Pugni, was produced here on the 12th of June. There are in this opera some motivi new and elegant, but the instrumental part is much too noisy. The composer has too freely used his trombones and drums.

NAPLES.

Sig. Barbaja still retains the office of Impresario of the Grand Theatre Royal, the San Carlo. The company which he has formed for the ensuing season comprises, among many others, Mesdames Malibran, Ronzi di Begnis, and Lablache.

BOLOGNA.

Madlle. Blasis has been very favourably received by the public in this city. Matilde di Shabran would doubtless have proved more successful had all the performers contributed equally to an opera which requires a perfect com[Pg 183]pany. The tenor, Duprez, has succeeded very well here; in him are united the talents of a good actor and singer.

PARIS.

MAD. DAMOREAU (Cinti), after an absence of three months, has re-appeared at the opera. Many works, which have suffered for want of her assistance, now feel the happy effect of her return.

TOULOUSE.

The concert of the celebrated M. Field has been a remarkable event for this city. All the best society of the town assembled at the Saloon of the Athenæum on this occasion, and, accustomed to hear only those pianists who delight in noise and absurd tricks, were as much surprised as charmed by the ease with which M. Field executed the most difficult and the most delicate passages.

M. Field is a disciple of the true piano forte school; Clementi was his master; and this is the school which must generally influence public taste. The love of novelty will now and then recommend sleight-of-hand tricks, but what is really good will always ultimately prevail, and never can be wholly neglected.

KING’s THEATRE.

THE practice of giving fragments of operas has been continued during the last month, and so far as such feeble stuff as Anna Bolena, Norma, &c. is concerned, it is not worth while to complain: but when a work like Semiramide is exposed to the same treatment, it is time to protest against such barbaric taste, such an insult to common sense. This fine opera has actually been compressed into one act, and so performed! But La Cenerentola, one of Rossini’s inferior operas, has been given in an entire state, and strongly got up, Mad. MALIBRAN in the principal part.

On Saturday the 20th of July, BELLINI’s promised serious opera, I Capuleti e Montecchi, (which may be translated, The Capulets and Montagues,—or, Romeo and Juliet,) was performed for the first time here, and thus cast:—

It was performed twice, then, it is said, finally withdrawn. Mad. PASTA’s acting could not save it! It had not even the negative support of the proverbially tolerant audiences at this theatre: none scarcely, except of the orderly kind, attended the second performance, and it died without a groan; for privileged visiters never express their disapprobation, and only such were in at the death. Let it rest in peace! We will only say of this wretched work, that it is inferior even to Norma. Anything more would be superfluous, and a wanton waste of ink more valuable than Bellini’s opera.

The musical product of the season, then, has been two operas, fit only for the Milanese, for the Italian subjects of the Austrian government, to hear! But the apologists for such management cry out, ‘where are better to be procured?’ We will tell them—in Germany: nay, in the library of the King’s Theatre are operas enough to be found that are unknown, or forgotten, which, if properly prepared and brought out, would suffice for ten years to come,—operas that would not merely satisfy the public, but meet with their warmest approbation and most effectual support.

A Sunday paper has talked again and again about the expenses of this theatre considerably exceeding a thousand pounds a night. Doubtless the writer believes what he asserts; but we will tell him, fearless of contradiction, that they do not amount to anything like three-fourths of a thousand pounds. We know upon what saving terms the performers have all, except Pasta, been engaged; how their benefits have been managed; we have looked attentively at the scenery, dresses, &c. and challenge the lessee to produce any proof that our calculation is incorrect. Moreover we will add, that, in spite of the terms which performers, through the mismanagement of the three or four principal impresari of Europe, are enabled to demand,—the Italian opera in London ought, if well conducted, to yield a certain profit of some thousands every season.

COVENT-GARDEN THEATRE.

ON Saturday, June 29th, Weber’s opera, Euryanthe, was produced at this theatre, by the German company, for the first time in England. Owing to the abominable practice of advertising pieces ‘for the last time,’—though it is almost always intended that they should continue to be performed as often as the public will attend to hear them, and that there should be two or three, or even more, ‘last times,’—we were defrauded of an opportunity of hearing this able work of Weber, knowing that it would be more correctly given on a third or fourth night, and entirely disbelieving the manager’s announcements. Hence we are enabled only to lay before our readers the dramatis personæ and the story, (for which we are indebted to the Observer,) and to state our general opinion of the work, not as now performed, but from a pretty intimate acquaintance with it from the vocal score, as published at Vienna, by Steiner. Of this, it is true, we have heard portions in concerts with the full orchestral accompaniments, but have had no means of judging its complete effect as a whole, either as a musical or dramatic composition.

Ludwig has appointed a fête to be celebrated for the return of one of his most gallant knights and accomplished troubadours, Adolar, who arrives, and, in a beautiful romance, sings his adventures in the war in which he has just been engaged for his royal master. He is crowned with laurels by the fairest ladies of the court. His happiness is almost complete, for he is on the point of seeing once more the object of his love, Euryanthe, the beautiful and accomplished Châtelaine of a wide domain, near Nevers. In his absence, another noble, Lysiart, has endeavoured to win the affections of Euryanthe; but finding, after repeated trials, that his attempts are useless, he resolves to blast her fame, and destroy the peace of mind of his favoured rival. In the presence of the king and his court, he tells Adolar[Pg 184] that his mistress is inconstant. Adolar cannot believe it, and offers to defend, in single combat with the accuser, the innocence of Euryanthe. The challenge is accepted. In the mean time, Lysiart is sent by the king to the castle of Euryanthe, to conduct her to court, where, for the present, Adolar is tarrying. The traitor, in conjunction with Eglantine, an attendant of Euryanthe, gets possession of a ring given to the latter by Adolar, and with this proof, supported by the false evidence of Eglantine, convinces Adolar, the king, and the court, of Euryanthe’s infidelity. She is stripped of her possessions, and abandoned by Adolar. She is afterwards seen, in all the agony of wronged innocence, wandering alone in the woods. In heart-rending accents she sings her woes, and falling down exhausted, is found by a party of hunters, and conveyed to a place of safety. The last act opens with a view of Euryanthe’s castle, from which is seen issuing a gorgeous procession, going to celebrate Lysiart’s marriage with the perfidious Eglantine. Adolar having, however, now become convinced of the innocence of his mistress, and the treachery of Lysiart, breaks in on the pageant, accuses Lysiart, and forces him to draw and defend himself. Their swords are already crossed; when the king arrives and separates the combatants. Eglantine confesses her guilt, and accuses Lysiart of his crime. She is by him stabbed, and he then is dragged to meet his doom. At this juncture Euryanthe rushes in, Adolar receives her in his arms—the king proclaims her innocence—her possessions are restored to her—and she becomes the bride of him whom she long has loved.

The overture to this opera has abundance of both beauty and science to recommend it; its frequent performance at the Philharmonic Concerts has made it known to most connoisseurs in London, and we have more than once spoken of it. An extract from this was published in our work some few years ago, and in our early numbers will be found two of the most lovely airs in the opera, with English words adapted to them, as well as other pieces from the same.

Though Euryanthe is not so popularly formed as the Freischütz, it does not less show the hand of a great musician. There is not so much, by a great deal, in it that at once commands attention and admiration, but a closer acquaintance with it developes beauties that are not so obvious on a first or second trial. Neither the Freischütz nor the present work were produced without great labour, but this is more apparent in the latter than in the former. In the one, genius and skill are combined in nearly equal proportions; in the other, there is more of skill than genius; though the invention displayed in Euryanthe would be enough to confer a great name on any composer of any country. Let us, however, repeat, that our judgment, in the case of the opera now under notice, is formed from a knowledge of an adaptation—of what is called the vocal score—only.

ENGLISH OPERA, ADELPHI

MR. ARNOLD resumed the management of this company at the beginning of last month, and brought out a new operetta, The Convent Belle, the main support of which was Mrs. WAYLETT’s very charming ballad singing; this kept it the piece till the 16th, when it was superseded by The Yeoman’s Daughter, a clever, affecting drama, written by Mr. SERLE; the music by Mr. Wade, Mr. Hawes, and others. This has proved very successful, and fills the house, notwithstanding the heat of the weather, which is a sure friend to Vauxhall, an implacable foe to theatres.

THE MUSIC OF THE PRESENT NUMBER.

THE Overture to Cosi fan tutte is the lightest of Mozart’s orchestral compositions, and in the style of the Italian sinfonias of his day, but as far superior as was to be expected from a genius which, even when relaxing, was comparatively great.

The Madrigal, ‘When all alone,’ is one of the most beautiful compositions of the kind known, and but for a single modulation which marks its age, might be mistaken for a modern production, so free and fresh is its melody. Of Conversi scarcely any record remains. Walther bestows only two lines on him: Gerber merely states that he was born at Correggio, and published a set of canzoni for five voices, at Venice, in 1575, and a set of madrigals for six, at the same place, in 1584. Of course, therefore, his present work was among the former, though it has always in England borne the title now given to it. To the best of our knowledge, the canzone for many voices only differs from the madrigal in being less laboured; fugal points and imitations do not so necessarily enter into its formation.

The two movements of Clementi are now, alas! little known. After playing both through, we recommend the performer to repeat and end with the first.

The Incarnatus is from the composer’s most esteemed mass. The resemblance of this to Purcell’s song, ‘What power art thou,’ in King Arthur, is so striking, that surely something more than accident must have occasioned it. But if Caldara borrowed from Purcell, Handel was indebted to the borrower; for his ‘Vouchsafe, O Lord,’ in the Dettingen Te Deum, seems formed on the model of the Italian composer.

Antonio Caldara, born at Venice about the year 1680, was vice-master of the Imperial Chapel at Vienna from 1714 to 1763. He was one of the most distinguished composers of his age, both for sacred and dramatic music; but his fame now rests on the former. As to his operas, Metastasio, an excellent judge of the matter, did not think highly of them, notwithstanding their reputation at the time, for, in a letter to Eximeno, he mentions the composer as ‘an eminent contrapuntist, but extremely deficient in expression and pleasing melody.’

[Pg 185]

SEPTEMBER, 1833.

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF S. WEBBE, J. S. SMITH, S. PAXTON, J. DANBY,R. J. S. STEVENS, AND R. SPOFFORTH.

COUNTERPOINT is said, by Johannes Nucius [82], to have originated in this country, an assertion which, well or ill founded, proves how very soon the art was practised in England after being first discovered and reduced to rule. Indeed our early ecclesiastical composers, as well as madrigalists, who suffer nothing by comparison with their contemporaries, the Flemings and Italians, shew the high degree of perfection which music in parts speedily attained in this island; and it may be consoling to our national pride—if as a nation we have any musical pride at all—to reflect, that our composers lost no ground till the encouragement bestowed by the court, and, consequently, by the great generally, on foreigners, tended much to check and depress British genius, by depriving it of that motive for exertion, without which the imagination grows cold, and industry is unavailing.

Nevertheless, the appointments in our choirs, poorly as they now reward talent, formerly kept the art of church composition from sinking, and madrigals never entirely fell into neglect; the study of counterpoint, therefore, was still pursued by a few, and led to the birth of the glee, which is the lovely offspring of the madrigal, the not very distant relation of our church music, and, undeniably, indebted to England for its creation.

It is for the latter reason that we conclude our biographical notices with some account of the most eminent of those glee-composers who have not yet been included in this department of our work [83]; but we feel it necessary to confine ourselves to such as ‘their worldly tasks have done,’ or have long retired from active professional life. Though we lament that, notwithstanding very diligent inquiries, our materials are, except in one or two instances, extremely scanty, furnishing little more than dates, and not always supplying even these. Our musical biography, however, would have been incomplete in the opinion of English readers, without names so well known as those now introduced, and in communicating all that we have been able to learn, we discharge a duty that we should with regret have left unfulfilled.

SAMUEL WEBBE was born in the year 1740. His father, a highly respectable gentleman, died suddenly at Minorca, where he held an office under the British Government, leaving the subject of this sketch an infant,—his property in such a state that his family never benefited by it, and his widow in circumstances which deprived her of the means of bestowing a proper education on her son, who was, at the early age of eleven, apprenticed to a cabinet-maker. When his term was completed, he immediately quitted an employment so far beneath his powers of mind, and commenced the study of the Latin language. But his mother dying a year after he had abandoned his mechanical pursuits, he was reduced to the necessity of copying music as a means of subsistence, being then nearly ignorant of the art, though a great admirer of it. This occupation led to an acquaintance with a German named Barbandt, organist of the Bavarian chapel, who initiated him in the rudiments of music. His almost unparalleled industry enabled him not only to support himself by copying, but to acquire, in addition to the Latin, a knowledge of French. At the age of twenty-three he married, and the birth of a child, while it did not lessen his difficulties, occasioned no interruption in his studies, for he now engaged an Italian master. He must by this time have obtained a considerable knowledge of music, for shortly after becoming a father, he began to give lessons, as well as to compose, and such was his progress, that at the age of twenty-six he gained a prize-medal from the Catch-club for the best canon. In 1768, only two years after, he received the medal for his glee, ‘A gen’rous friendship,’ which immediately established his reputation, and has ever since been admired as one of the most beautiful specimens of simple vocal harmony that the art has to boast.

From the year that first crowned his efforts with success, to 1792, Mr. Webbe had no less than twenty-seven medals awarded him, for glees, catches, canons and odes. But here it may not be irrelevant to remark, that four of his finest compositions, namely, ‘When winds breathe soft,’ ‘Hence, all ye vain delights,’ ‘The mighty conqueror of hearts,’ and ‘To me the wanton girls insulting say,’ were unsuccessful candidates for the golden honours bestowed on works of inferior merit; while of the many medals he obtained, not more than seven or eight were given for compositions that are now known. Eight, indeed, were the reward of useless mechanical labor, exhibited in the form of canons, none of which have survived the composer; and seven were the meed of catches, one of which, ‘To the old, long life and treasure,’ still maintains its ground.

On the death of Mr. Warren Horne, in 1784, Mr. Webbe was appointed Secretary to the Nobleman’s Catch-club, which office he held till his decease.

On the establishment of the Glee club, in 1787, Mr. Webbe became a professional member, and librarian. It was for this society he wrote his glee of perennial popularity, ‘Glorious Apollo,’ both words and music. During the time that he was actively pursuing his professional occupations, he found leisure to acquire an extensive knowledge of the German and Hebrew languages, and made himself conversant in many branches of polite literature. He even wooed the Muses, and of several of his works the poetry as well as music is believed to be from his pen. He also excelled in fencing and dancing, and added to his various accomplishments a simplicity of manners and benevolence of disposition, that endeared him to a large circle of acquaintance, among whom were some of the most distinguished persons of his day.

Mr. Webbe’s glees, &c., amount in number to one hundred and seven, and have been published in three large volumes. Besides these, he was the author of masses, (being a catholic) anthems, single songs, &c., many of them well known, but too numerous to be specified here. He died in 1817.

JOHN STAFFORD SMITH, who is still living, though he has long since retired to privacy, is a native of Gloucester, where he was born about the year 1750. His father, who was organist of that cathedral, having instructed him in the principles of music, sent him to London to complete his musical education under Dr. Boyce. At an early age he was appointed one of the gentlemen of the Chapels Royal, and on the death of Dr. Arnold, in 1802, he became organist of the same. In 1805 he succeeded Dr. Ayrton as master of the King’s choristers, which office he resigned in 1817, and shortly after withdrew from all professional employment.

When only twenty-three years of age, in 1773, Mr. Smith obtained the prize for a catch, which had, in fact, nothing to recommend it but that kind of grossness so much admired in those days; but the year following produced his fine serious glee, ‘Let happy lovers fly where pleasures call,’ to which the prize given by the Catch-club was most justly allotted. The same honour was with equal discrimination conferred in the three succeeding years, on his ‘Blest pair of syrens,’ ‘While fools their time in stormy strife employ,’ and ‘Return, blest days.’ He obtained in the whole eight of them honourable distinctions; but his very delightful, cheerful glees, ‘Let us, my Lesbia,’ and ‘As on a summer’s day,’ missed the reward due to them. Mr. Smith also is author of a madrigal, ‘Flora now calleth forth each flower,’ a work which, for contrivance and effect, may compete with anything of the kind extant. He likewise published a volume under the title of Musica Antiqua. containing specimens of the earliest compositions; and another, a collection of Ancient Songs; both of which bear testimony to his industry and research, and now form a part of every valuable musical library.

STEPHEN PAXTON.—Of this sweet composer nothing whatever is recorded, except the years when he obtained prizes for his glees. In 1779 he gained a medal for ‘How sweet, how fresh, this vernal day!’ in 1781 for ‘Round the hapless Andre’s urn;’ and in 1783, 1784, and 1785, for a catch, a glee, ‘Blest power!’ and an ode. He also composed ‘Go, Damon, go!’ the answer to ‘Turn, Amaryllis,’ and ‘Upon the poplar bough,’ two admirable glees. He had a brother, William, who wrote the delicious three-voiced glee, ‘Breathe soft, ye winds,’ in E; likewise a canon, which gained a prize in 1780. One of the Paxtons, but we cannot ascertain which, was a distinguished performer on the violoncello, and alternately with Crosdill, afterwards with Cervetto, played first violoncello at the Ancient Concerts.

JOHN DANBY—Still less is known of this composer than of the preceding. He gained ten prizes from the Catch-club, for seven glees, two canons, and an ode. Among the first are three which will secure to him a niche in the temple of Fame, viz., ‘When Sappho tuned the raptured strain,’ ‘Awake, Æolian lyre,’ and ‘The fairest flowers the vale prefer.’ He was a member of the Catholic church, and died, either at the end of the last or beginning of the present century, at the moment a concert was performing for his benefit; for long-continued bad health had much impaired his circumstances, and rendered the assistance of his friends and the public essentially necessary.

RICHARD JAMES SAMUEL STEVENS is still living, at an advanced age, but has long retired from active life. His first appointment was as organist to the Temple. In 1795 he succeeded Mr. John Jones in the place of organist of the Charter House; and in 1801, on the death of Dr. Aylward, was elected Professor of Music to Gresham College. In 1782 he gained the prize-medal for a serious glee, ‘See, what horrid tempests rise!’ and another in 1786, a cheerful glee, ‘It was a lover and his lass.’ But his most popular works, those which will transmit his name, are, ‘Ye spotted snakes,’ ‘Sigh no more, ladies,’ ‘From Oberon,’ ‘Crabbed age and youth,’ and ‘Strike the harp in praise of Bragela,’ compositions sparkling with genius, but which some who delectate in canons affect to despise, unmindful of Æsop’s well-known apologue. The most stubborn line-and-rule critics, however, are forced to admit the merit of his five-voiced serious glee, from Ossian, ‘Some of my heroes are low,’ in which the poetry and science of music are equally blended.

Mr. Stevens published two, if not three, sets of glees, and edited a useful Collection of Anthems, &c., in three folio volumes. He has one son, recently a gentleman-commoner at Oxford, who, it is to be presumed, will inherit his very independent fortune.

REGINALD SPOFFORTH was a native of Southwell in Nottinghamshire, a place famed for its venerable collegiate church, of which his uncle, Mr. Thomas Spofforth, was organist, who so ably instructed his nephew in music, and by his example as well as precept fixed in him such habits of industry, that at en unusually early age he became qualified to officiate for his relation, and distinguished himself at the concerts given in different parts of the county. Being much noticed by Sir Richard Kaye, Bart., a prebendary of Southwell and Dean of Lincoln, he accompanied his patron to the latter place, and for a short time acted as deputy-organist of the cathedral [84], but soon quitted that city, and proceeded to London, where he became a disciple of Dr. Cooke, under whom he studied upwards of three years, with every advantage that could be derived from so admirable an instructor, seconded by the most unwearied assiduity. He also took lessons of Steibelt on the piano-forte, and devoted some portion of his time to the Italian language. But his knowledge and skill were not immediately productive, and he had to encounter pecuniary difficulties, for his father was unable to assist him, and his uncle—a miser, such as is rarely met with but on the stage—was unwilling. His wants, however, were few, and his talents in every branch of his profession at length forced him into notice. In 1793, he offered to the Catch-club a serious and a cheerful glee, as candidates for the prizes, and obtained both: ‘Where are those hours?’ and ‘See, smiling from the rosy East,’ were the successful compositions. He now formed an acquaintance with Mr. Shield, musical manager of Covent Garden, and contributed many songs, duets, &c. to various pieces produced at that theatre. When the latter set out on his Italian tour, Mr. Harris offered the vacant appointment to Mr. Spofforth, who, weighing the difficulties and vexations inseparable from the office, with great prudence declined the proposal. He now determined to divide his time between teaching and the composition of glees, and was soon so much occupied by the former, while he devoted to the latter hours that ought to have been surrendered to sleep, that his health was gradually undermined, and he at length fell a victim to his industry and application.

In 1797 he undertook the musical direction of a toxo[Pg 187]pholitico-musico-theatrical club, called the Bowman’s Lodge, which was supported by some of the beau monde. He also accepted the place of organist to Fitzroy Chapel, which he relinquished for that at Eltham, where he passed much time, giving lessons at a great school in the neighbourhood, and enjoying the society of his friend Mr. Laurence, brother to the learned civilian, who was the intimate of Burke, and for some years member for Peterborough.

In 1826 Mr. Spofforth lost his uncle, whose fortune fell to him: he, however, enjoyed his independence but for a short period. The year after, in the month of August, the nervousness of which he had so long been the prey, and which for many years had prevented his attempting any new work, appeared in a fatal form. On the 31st he was attacked by paralysis, and lost the use of one side. In this state he continued till the 8th of September, when he expired, in the fifty-eighth year of his age.

Besides the two prize-glees above mentioned, Mr. Spofforth produced several of at least equal excellence; among which, ‘Mark’d you her eye of heavenly blue?’ ‘Health to my dear!’ ‘L’Ape e le Serpe,’ ‘Hail, smiling morn,’ and ‘Come, bounteous May,’ have received the stamp of public approbation that never will be effaced, and which their intrinsic merit alone obtained; for the author was a man too modest in his nature, too retiring in his habits, to have recourse to means adopted by many composers, and perhaps fairly, for the purpose of forcing their works into notice.

RULES FOR COMPOSING FASHIONABLE MUSIC.

[In a Letter from Milan.]

A COMPOSER of the present day stands in no need of that divine spark which comes from above. All that is required now is, to place himself within a musical circle, composed of some thirty of the operas of Rossini, spread open for the facility of instant reference. It is true that he will find in these works much genius, much that abounds in beauty, grace, and vigour; but he will also meet with numerous passages, not to say whole motivos, which this master has had the address, by a thousand ingenious devices, such as embellishing, altering the movement, &c. &c., to appropriate to himself from others. The composer, therefore, who is thus seated in the midst of these volumes, may go to work without much apprehension, as he will here find brought into one focus all the scattered rays of beauty that he would have to collect, with no small labour, from hundreds of volumes. A ready artist need not trouble himself much with the deeper studies of composition, as the public will give him sufficient credit for talent, if he do but possess the happy art of combinations, and can produce a piece of ingenious mosaic work. Let him but get a good subject, no matter how, and it will not be difficult to conceal the theft under a mass of noisy instrumentation. In the midst of this clamour, too, the many errors in harmony will be equally hidden. It may be observed, that the rules we have thus laid down are equally applicable in the composition of a symphony, terzetto, aria, duet, finale, &c., since in all our modern works the same form, the same colouring, the same general process is considered indispensable: above all, it must never be forgotten that, on every occasion, the orchestra should be everything; song, sentiment, situation, &c., must give way to this. To say the truth, such is the feature by which modern music is distinguished from that of the old school, which was silly enough to allow melody to take the lead, and paid it, on all occasions, the most unaccountable respect.

The modern composer must not neglect to provide himself with a ready-made store of showy piano and harp passages, with which he must sprinkle pretty thickly the parts for the voice; and when he gets hold of a soprano air, let him ornament the conclusion of it with a flight of demi-semiquavers, the more unvocal the better. And even if the singer should find it difficult to hit them off, never mind, the public will not be a whit the wiser. But one of the principal rules to be observed is this, that no rest of any kind, no pause, must be allowed the wind-instruments; the trumpet, the trombone, the drum, and the octave-flute most be kept incessantly at work, so as to deprive the hearer of every means of following the singer, who, to say the truth, has not in general much to do with the piece, and is only an object of subordinate interest in the opera.

Now if an artist has wit enough to compose according to these rules, let him begin every piece with an assortment of strong chords, with the indication mark of the pause over the last. Upon this should follow a pizzicato movement of violins and basses, which is immediately to be succeeded by the motivo, (taken, as before observed, from some of the open books by which the composer is encircled,) performed by the bassoon and clarionets. This motivo must soon make its appearance again, and be given either by the octave-flute or the singer, just as may suit; for it is quite a matter of indifference whether the singer or that instrument performs it. And now a transition should be made into some out-of-the-way key; a series of skipping passages should follow, which should invite the feet to dance, and lead in, upon ‘light fantastic toe,’ the never-failing crescendo. Again: a transition should be made, by a series of modulations of the most extraneous kind, into the original pizzicato movement. At last a flight of quadruple-tailed notes should wind up the singer to the very acme of exertion, supposing breath enough left for the operation; the drum, the trumpet, the trombone, and the octave-flute should be summoned to display all their energies, and this concluding burst should not cease till the moment when the public think the proper time is come to assist with vehement applause.

Ye modern composers, forget not the debt of gratitude you will owe me, for having thus liberally let you into the secret of the art! Hie ye to London! first getting letters to the Duchesa di——, who will introduce you to some English bookseller, or some third-rate French actor, neither of whom, you will find will understand one note of music; therefore you will have no cause to fear detection. You will be sure of applause from persons kept in a kind of pay for the purpose; and there are journalists enough to assist the fogs in mystifying the public, and to make you a reputation for a year or two, during which time, if you do not fill your pockets with English guineas, you will be proved unworthy of the advice now given you by your friend

[Pg 188]

GLASGOW AMATEUR SOCIETY.

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

As you have always taken an interest in the proceedings of provincial societies for the cultivation of music, I have thought that it might be interesting to you to hear of the existence of an association so far north as Glasgow, the object of which is the performance of the choral compositions of the great masters.

This Society has been now nearly two years established, and consists entirely of amateurs; one of its fundamental laws being the ineligibility of professional musicians as members. It is called the GLASGOW AMATEUR MUSICAL SOCIETY. I beg leave to transmit a programme of their Second Annual Concert, which took place on Wednesday evening, the 7th August, in the nave of the venerable cathedral. The admission was entirely gratuitous, by tickets issued by members of the Society, and the audience, a most respectable one, amounted to upwards of 600 in number. The orchestra, led by Mr. Andrew Thomson, was composed partly of professional gentlemen of Glasgow, and partly of the band of the 7th Hussars, now stationed here. Mr. Thomas M’Farlane, organist of St. Mary’s Episcopal Chapel, conducted, and Mrs. M’Millan, (late Miss Thomson,) of Edinburgh, took the principal soprano parts.

I do not presume to take up your space by a critique on the several performances, but I cannot allow the opening recitative and aria of The Messiah, and the recitative and aria, ‘With verdure clad,’ from The Creation, as performed by Mrs. M’Millan, to pass unnoticed: the first was given with a thrilling distinctness and precision which told well in the spacious high-arched nave, while the manner in which the latter was sung was well adapted to the flowery and polished style of that most beautiful melody.

Among the choruses, ‘Hallelujah!’ from The Messiah, ‘Hallelujah to the Father,’ the beautiful chorus from Samson, ‘Let their celestial concerts,’ ‘The heavens are telling,’ ‘Worthy is the Lamb,’ and the closing chorus of the Creation, ‘Sing the Lord,’ were done with great precision, and received reiterated applause; and the whole performance was deemed by adequate judges to be highly creditable to the amateur taste of Glasgow.

[We are happy to hear from all quarters of the increasing number of Amateur Societies in Great Britain; but surely it is a misnomer to call this an ‘Amateur Society,’ seeing that the only performance which its members think fit to notice publicly, depended for support almost wholly, if not entirely, on professional performers.—Editor.]

ON THOUGHTS OR IDEAS IN MUSIC.

(From the French of Gretry.)

AS from instinct we love and admire all that is beautiful in nature, so a feeling for, and love of the fine arts may exist without a knowledge of their principles. One day, when a party of professors and myself were discussing the question as to the ideas best adapted to express our sensations in music, an amateur interrupted us by asking what an idea in music could possibly be? As his question was abruptly put, we all looked at him for some moments without answering; he prided himself upon the idea that he had pozed us, and laughing, repeated several times over, “An idea in music, how singular!” A musical idea, said I to him, is nothing more than the sound, the inflexion of words employed to communicate an idea, whether verse or prose. If you agree that, with respect to accent, it is indifferent, however it may be placed, I am ready to allow that music has no fixed principle.—No, replied he, I will not agree to that; on the contrary, I think that improper accents, or misplaced punctuations, may spoil the most elegant prose, and disguise the finest poetry.—In the same manner, said I, sounds at variance with the sentiment of the words make bad music.—But, added he, there is such a thing as music without words; and when it is good and well executed, I like it much. What say you of such music?—It is, said I, a discourse of sounds, a song from which the words have been withdrawn. Have you never seen a woman on the point of fainting? she has only strength sufficient left to make herself understood by the signs of those words which she is incapable of uttering.—Very well.—Still you comprehend her?—Yes, I understand that she complains; that she says to her children, her husband, the friends who surround her, ‘I feel better now, do not be frightened.’—Well, in this instance, and in[Pg 189] a thousand others, we see exemplified the principle of music without words.

The Italians, in public places, either from indolence, or from a fear of openly declaring their opinions, speak little and much at the same time; that is, by articulating some solitary words, preceded and followed by one of the vowels a, e, i, o, u, all enforced by an expressive pantomime, they make their thoughts understood without the aid of speech. Go, for example, and tell a composer that such a man spoke very freely in the coffee-houses against his work:—What did he say?—i, a, u, o, of such an air, e, i, a, u, of another, he will perfectly comprehend you: this is another instance of the principle of instrumental music. Men of more northern latitudes are but little acquainted with this species of dissimulation, but it is natural to Italians. If therefore a musician is unable to discover any meaning in a sonata, rest assured the reason is that the sonata has no meaning; and if Fontenelle could not understand a good sonata, you may take it for granted that it was owing to his possessing more wit than imagination and feeling. A fine piece of instrumental music has always a reference to some sentiment or passion, which has its characteristic accent, its peculiar movement: one is expressed in acute sounds; another in grave; another, between the two, consists of long-drawn tones.

Again, if it be said that a sound is not an idea, yet it must be allowed that a tone is; at the very instant I utter mi, I argue that mi is the third of ut, re precedes, and fa succeeds it. To be a good musician, an idea both can and ought to be attached to every musical phrase of a different character: for example, such a phrase is only composed of grave sounds, sustained and lengthened without any rhythm or measure; immediately, and by analogy, I picture to myself darkness, and the horrors which it inspires. But if the sound of a reed is heard breaking this gloomy harmony, I imagine the awakening of a shepherd, I look in the sky for the morning star, and the phantoms of night are dispersed.

I was not eight years old when I went to the wise man of our neighbourhood [85], and said to him, ‘Give me some words, I want to compose music,’ and he gave me the above four Latin verses, first translating them to me in the Liégois dialect.

With respect to moral ideas in music, they, like the accents of oratory, depend on the declamation of the words; and if the inexperienced musician declaims all in one tone, there will, as long as he lives, be a sameness in his music: this fault is much more common than is generally supposed. But to declaim is not all; the declamation must be just: I prefer the music that is vague,—that says nothing, or says every thing—to improper declamation. Let us then conclude that in music, as in nature, a sensation is not an idea; but that many sensations compared with each other constitute an idea. Again it must be recollected that the undefined effect of instrumental music acts differently upon individuals, according to their respective organization: it is like a cloud floating in the air; the warrior sees a battle; the peasant girl the flock conducted by her lover.

I have always thought that good music must produce more or less effect, in proportion as its language is more or less familiar. I have been at the side of Voltaire, and seen him grow irritable under the influence of the most melodious strains; I have often thought of it since, and I conclude that he experienced sensation without ideas, because he was not sufficiently conversant with musical language, and the variety of emotions which it produces. A more simple being would have said, ‘I feel enjoyment, what else do I want?’ or he would have enjoyed without any reflection; but Voltaire became irritated with a pleasure of which he did not comprehend the cause. Yet at last he was softened, and I have seen the tears start into his eyes. Yes, music, contrary to our nature, at first irritates, but if its seductions are listened to for some considerable time, it calms, softens, and finally triumphs over every resistance. Thus Orpheus, in the infernal regions, soothed the anger of Cerberus, and softened the hearts of the divinities of Tartarus. If you find a man who does not love music, be assured that it is either because he has not yet heard any suited to his peculiar turn of mind, or that his heart is for ever closed against pure pleasures.

I must however confess, that since speech, with its inflexions, is not always sufficient to explain certain ideas, still less will accent alone do so; yet still the gentle agitation caused by good instrumental music, that undefined repetition of our feelings; that aërial flight which suspends us midway between earth and heaven, without fatiguing our organs; that mysterious language which captivates without persuading, which speaks to our senses without the aid of reasoning, and yet which is equivalent to reason, since it charms, gives to the unsophisticated heart the most refined pleasure. Never will a wicked man understand the language of sounds; such a faculty is the result of the most harmonious organization, and the perfection of our being. The virtuous man seems to hear a choir of angels, the echo of which is in his own heart.

Enough has already been said as to what constitutes a good musician; yet perhaps it has not been sufficiently enforced, that without genius, without original ideas, the most scientific composition is nothing else than a copy, more or less excellent. In looking at the origin of the thoughts of a phlegmatic man, it will always be found that the type is the same as in a man of impassioned soul. Second-rate talents come after him, and criticise, distort, and misplace the same ideas. Following this course, it is always seen that A. has taken from B. what B. borrowed from C. and that the latter took all from D. the original proprietor, who only copied from nature.

Again it may be said, that our ideas in music arise from the choice of sounds and their measures. The time alone in sounds, only gives birth to ideas emanating little or not at all from sentiment; in music, as in poetry, great poetical effects may be produced without the charm of poetry: such movements belong to harmony; melody possesses essentially the beauty of sentiment. We know that in natural, and even in moral philosophy, nothing can exist without motion; but this argument does not prove that immoderate motion produces true feeling: on the contrary, too vehement motion is a convulsion, and a moderate movement causes agreeable sensations. Nature without doubt has her convulsions, but happily they are rare, and only occur in their proper place. Let us follow her example, and not be too lavish of violent effects.

When a young man of talent exhibits originality of thought, however wild, however untutored, he ought to be encouraged, and have the path smoothed for him: he is a choice plant, and should be cultivated. Such a young man is, perhaps, at first devoid of any knowledge of harmony, yet there is within him a genuine reservoir, whence the purest beauties may flow. I would add, that the young[Pg 190] artist born with original genius may be looked on as one of the benefactors of the human race.

Why did the ancient philosophers recommend so strongly the practice of sounds? Why consider music as the principle of all morality? Why publicly reproach Themistocles with not understanding music? Because they knew that, in rendering a man sensible to the harmony of sounds, it was establishing in him the principle of order, which tends to general happiness. They seized the cause, to arrive at the effects. They said, ‘If we preach wisdom to you, before your mind is disposed towards it, we shall lose our time; but if by harmonious sounds we establish harmony in your mind, you will yield without opposition.’ Let us then, like these philosophers, make men more or less musicians, and they will be disposed to every sort of harmony—for that of colours in a picture, or the order that pervades an architectural pile.

In short, to be alive to the beauties of harmony is to love the order which pervades the system of the Creator. When I behold a true musician, I say to myself, ‘That man is a lover of peace; he is my friend.’ When the philosopher tells us that he comprehends the language of birds; that he hears the music of the stars as they roll above us, it is the pure harmony of his nature that effects these prodigies. Let us be one with nature, and all her treasures will be our portion. In short I will boldly say with Shakspeare:—

THE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN.

[Having given insertion to Mr. Phillips’s letter concerning the song ‘The Old English Gentleman,’ we feel bound to publish Mr. Charles H. Purday’s answer, if that which replies to nothing can be said to be an answer; and have only to regret being placed in a situation which hardly allows us to decline becoming the medium through which direct charges—whether true or false—are met, not by facts, not even by a bare contradiction, but by calling the author of them ‘a fool.’

Let it be understood that we make ourselves no party in the dispute; we know nothing of the merits of the case, and hope to hear no more of it.]

In reply to Mr. H. Phillips’s erudite epistle, touching ‘The Old English Gentleman’ controversy and ‘The Maid of Llanwellyn’ piracy, I need only quote the words of Solomon, who says, ‘answer a fool according to his folly.’

I am, Sir,
With the most profound respect,
Your very humble Servant,
CHARLES H. PURDAY.

As I am the ‘very man’ who, Mr. Phillips says, has been stopped from publishing ‘The Old English Gentleman,’ and who issued the ‘bills and circulars’ respecting ‘The Maid of Llanwellyn,’ I conceive I have a right to be heard in my defence against that person’s false assertions, which I doubt not he would have you and the public believe are true.

First, if the ‘low puff in the shape of an advertisement,’ which I issued, was ‘false from beginning to end,’ how came Mr. Phillips to acknowledge its truth by causing the plates of his pirated copy of ‘The Old English Gentleman’ to be sent to me to be destroyed?

Secondly: I do not envy Mr. Phillips’s object in stating as ‘a fact’ what he knows to be untrue, respecting the sale of my song being suppressed!—and as to my ‘unjustifiable possession’ of the said song, I know of neither courtesy nor law to prevent any man from re-arranging an ‘old chaunt.’

Thirdly: Will Mr. Phillips oblige me by stating from what quarter my brother pirated ‘The Maid of Llanwellyn?’ It certainly could not be from Mr. Phillips; for although the song he alludes to does ‘bear his name,’ yet it is only as the singer. It is rather unfortunate for Mr. Phillips’s veracity on this charge, that the very song to which he alludes is a piracy on the words of my brother’s! as the following quotation from the last verse of each will clearly prove.

One word with reference to Mr. Phillips’s name to songs. I believe that person does not allow songs to ‘bear his name,’ especially those not ‘entirely composed’ by himself, for nothing—which some of the poor composers and publishers know and feel to their cost; and I should presume that a feeling of this kind induces him to take so much interest (I had almost said principal too) in their publications.

If, Sir, Mr. Phillips is not now satisfied with this ‘exposé of such manœuvres,’ I have a little more at his service, and that of the public, when occasion may require; but as I should presume that the pages of your valuable Journal may be filled with far more interesting matter to your musical readers, I conclude with an apology for being once more dragged into your columns,

[Pg 191]

NORWICH FESTIVAL.

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

In making their engagements for the ensuing Musical Festival at Norwich, the Committee have, there can be no doubt, acted, as they think, prudently, and no one has any right to question their fairness, however their policy may be disputed: for the public will know beforehand what performers they are to expect; and those who are usually engaged at those meetings, but whose services are not called for on the present occasion, had the option of accepting or rejecting the reduced terms offered.

But, Sir, it must not be supposed that the performers who declined the proposals made were influenced by avaricious motives; they only asked the sum they had before received, and which was hardly enough to cover their expenses, and indemnify them for what they lost by their absence from their regular business in London. For travelling to Norwich and back, living there at such a time, when of course the price of everything is increased, and when half-a-guinea per night is demanded for a bed, and that not of the best kind, the sum of twenty-five guineas surely is not unreasonable; and one-fifth of this struck off, as was proposed, would leave little indeed to the performer for his labours at three long morning, and as many fatiguing evening, concerts, and as some compensation for losses sustained by quitting his pursuits in town, during a whole week.

Let the labours of a singer of the first class be compared with those of an instrumental performer of the same rank, and it must be admitted that they bear no proportion. The latter is called upon for ten times the exertion, but his reward is sometimes less than one-tenth of that bestowed on the more fortunate foreign vocalist. The singer, it will be urged, is a commodity more rare than the instrumentalist, and like all rarities bears a higher price. Granted; but is it reasonable that so enormous a disparity should be suffered, as that existing between the sums of three hundred guineas and twenty? The best instrumentalists in Europe are offered one-fifteenth of the amount bestowed on a single singer, while the labour required is about in the inverse ratio.

My motive is not to complain, but to place the matter in a true light, and to apologise for those who have declined to accept the terms proposed by the Norwich Committee.

ON THE ACTUAL STATE OF MUSIC IN BELGIUM, AND ITS PROSPECTS OF ADVANCE IN THAT COUNTRY.

[In a letter from M. Fétis to his Son.]

WHEN proposals were made to me to return to my native land, to devote myself to regenerate the art of music, and to fill the honourable situation of maitre de chapelle to the king of Belgium, as well as director of the Conservatory of Music at Bruxelles, it was proper to examine if I could be more useful to the art I with passion cultivate, in endeavouring to suppress innovations, and in perfecting it, than in remaining in the capital of France, where my labours might not be followed by a beneficial result. To convince myself upon this point I took a general view of the state of Belgium, as regards music, from the middle age to the present, in order to ascertain whether I should find the necessary elements for the work they demanded; that is, a favourable organization for the culture of music in the Belgians, with suitable disposition to develope, by study, this organization, if it existed.

When the sensibility and genius of a people for the culture of the arts is the question, it is difficult to anticipate the future, if history has not informed us of the past. I own that the facts which I collected gave me a high idea of the future fate of the art in this country, if circumstances seconded the efforts I proposed to make. I shall cast a hasty coup d’œil on these facts, that the readers of the Revue Musicale may understand on what foundation I build the hope I have formed in coming here to try a regeneration, which equally flatters my self-esteem and patriotism.

In the fifteenth century a Belgian, JEAN TINCTORIS, (or the Dyer) of Niville, was the most learned theoretical musician of his period, and, at the same time, one of the ablest composers. He wrote many works on musical subjects, which have descended to us, and show that GAFORIO, and all other Italian theorists of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, drew their science from him, and were his scholars and imitators. Becoming maestro di cappella to the king of Naples, Ferdinand d’Arragon, he was founder of the oldest Italian school of music; and composed masses and motets, which still exist, in manuscript, in the library of the Sistine Chapel.

In the following century, Adrien Willaert, born at Bruges, was maestro di cappella of Saint Mark, at Venice, and there established a musical school, where Zarlino was educated, the most learned of Italian theorists, and Cyprien Rore, another Belgian, one of the finest musicians of his time, who became maestro di cappella to the duke of Ferrara. Willaert also ranked among the best composers of his day; and Zarlino signalized himself as the inventor of Church Music in many parts. Cyprien Rore, of whom I have just spoken, Pierre de la Rue, Clement, surnamed non Papa, Jacquet, or Jacques, of Berchem, so called because he was born in the village of Berchem,[Pg 192] near Antwerp, Jacques of Turnhout, and a multitude of Belgic composers, occupied places in all the European capitals as chapel-masters to kings and princes, during the sixteenth and part of the seventeenth centuries.

At this period all the singers of the Pontifical chapel were engaged from Belgium, and the greater part of the musicians in the service of the king of Spain left that country. The most celebrated composer of the latter half of the sixteenth century, who alone was qualified to struggle for glory with Palestrina, and who, like him, was called the Prince of Musicians, was Roland de Lassus[86], born at Mons; his renown was equally great in Italy, Germany, France, and England. His countryman and contemporary, Phillipe M. Mons, was likewise considered as one of the most distinguished composers of his time, and his works show that his reputation was deserved. I should never conclude, were I to name all the Belgian musicians worthy of being reckoned amongst the most able artists. You will observe that I do not mention many other composers and theorists, who,—born in that part of Flanders, reunited to France during the reigns of Louis XIII. and XIV., or in the northern provinces under the dominion of Prussia,—belong nevertheless to Belgium.

After the prosperous musical period of which I have just spoken, Belgium passed successively under the dominion of various rulers, was the theatre of all the plagues of war, and finished by losing its nationality, and saw vanish the glory of her musicians. Notwithstanding which, the genius of its inhabitants triumphed from time to time over the circumstances in which they were placed.

In modern days, do we not see Gossec (born in a village near Walcourt) convey the germ of a good school of harmony to France, after having studied in the cathedral of Antwerp, and obtained a justly celebrated name for the composition of symphony, before Haydn’s works were known to the musical world? This same artist became one of the founders of the Conservatoire de Musique in France, and member of the Institute, and powerfully contributed to the success of the French, from the part he took in compiling various elementary works, and by the scholars he produced. At the head of these Catel distinguished himself.

The most celebrated composer who shone in France in the eighteenth century was a Belgian: you at once know that I mean Grétry, born at Liege. The creation of a species which belongs to him, and more than fifty operas, of which the greatest number are filled with excellent things, either as respect melody or dramatic expression, speak more than my praises can to his honour. At the present period, the musical talent of the Belgians manifests itself in a way which leaves no doubt of success for the future, when, by a proper mode of instruction, their natural genius is well cultivated.

The Conservatoire de Musique at Paris has furnished some young Belgian composers to the Institute who are distinguished by their works, or who have been favoured by government with a pension. Such are MM. Mengal, Ermel, and Angelet. The Belgian violinists, among whom we notice Bériot, Roberechts, Haumann, Ghys Massart, the young Vieutemps, and many others, shine the first in rank of any in Europe. Antwerp awards the palm to M. Chevillarch, one of the first violinists of the present age. Young Servais promises fair to be another virtuoso on that instrument. The Belgians have the honour to have given birth to Drouet, the most astonishing of flutists. In fact, every species of talent is daily produced by this ancient country of art. There is, then, a guarantee for the musical regeneration about to be operated by the government of Belgium. This is what I perceived, and sufficed to convince me that my labours would not be bestowed on an ungrateful soil.

Belgium has re-conquered her nationality. Its government has secured a return to civilization, and the restoration of arts, which have long languished under foreign dominion. From this moment it gives the country those means of instruction which were wanting. Shortly it will secure, by adequate institutions, a succession of artists distinguished by talent. Thus the Belgians will recover that high rank they once held in art.

Such is my belief, and this has determined me to devote the rest of my days to my native country.

MUSICAL METRONOMES.

To the EDITORS of the HARMONICON.

I notice in your valuable work, the Harmonicon, for May last, a Report made to the [French] Academy of the Fine Arts, 20th of October, 1832, by its Musical Committee, on the Third Metronome of Maelzel.—With this report I am much pleased, and feel glad that so small, yet very useful a thing has received such attention from men of scientific knowledge, in their endeavours to improve the system of musical education. Their notice of the subject redounds greatly to their credit.

My object in this communication is to furnish you with a paragraph from the Liverpool Mercury, of Friday the 19th inst., upon what I consider a very important matter, viz. Improved Musical Time Beaters.—It is as follows:—‘Many of our musical readers are, no doubt, acquainted with Maelzel’s Metronome, for ascertaining the time in which musical pieces should be played. It is a very simple instrument, but is not intended to accompany the player, as it is completely dumb. We would not say anything in disparagement of any useful invention, but we may be permitted, we trust, to observe, that every object attained by Maelzel’s Metronome would be fully accomplished on a graduated pendulum with a sliding ball, which might be sold for half-a-crown at the utmost. Mr. Abbot, of Manchester, has very greatly improved upon Maelzel’s instrument, by rendering it what it ought to be, not only a time indicator, but a time beater. At the commencement of each bar it gives a very audible beat. It will be found advertised under the head “Musical Indicator,” in another part of our paper. In consequence of some conversation we had with the inventor on the subject, we trust that Mr. Abbot will construct some Indicators which shall not only mark the beginning of the bar, but any sub-division of it. The Musical Time-beater, invented many[Pg 193] years ago by Mr. Egerton Smith, of Liverpool, and simplified by Mr. Condliffe, of the same place, possesses this advantage over every similar instrument previously or subsequently introduced. It marks the beginning of the bar by a pretty loud blow, and indicates also the component parts of the bar by minor but audible beats, whether there be 2, 3, 4, 6, 8, 9, or 12 in the bar. The machine, however, is perhaps too complicated for common use, and we should greatly prefer Mr. Abbot’s, if it gave the subdivisions of the bar.’

I have seen Mr. Abbot’s Time Indicator; it is a simple, good instrument, but not what it professes to be, in my humble opinion: it beats every crotchet, or rather it is like a clock that beats, or ticks loud and quick.

Mr. Smith’s invention, simplified by Mr. Condliffe, is greatly superior to it in every respect. It gives a good beat at the beginning of every bar, and generally divides the bar into its smaller proportions very accurately. It is not so complicated as the above; is an excellent contrivance, and the best that has ever yet appeared.

BELLINI’S LAST OPERA.

A FRIENDLY correspondent, whose letter exhibits more gentlemanlike politeness than musical judgment, has mildly reproached us for the contempt we have expressed for the Italian opera, I Capuleti e Montecchi. Of this work we hoped never to hear further mention, but the grave remonstrance of our correspondent, who desires that his communication may not be published, induces us to insert a critique, a very just and able one, from the German Iris, of the 21st of June last, by which our friend will perceive that foreign critics do entertain the same opinion of this last production of Signor Bellini, as that universally felt in London.

—— As to the opera itself,—says the German writer, M. Rellstab,—it is like many other modern works, which we might find ample fault with, if we found but a footing in any part which was good or beautiful, so as to be able to separate the bad and to submit the latter to criticism; but when a thing is awry on all sides,—if no part of it display rationality of ideas, much less beauty, where is a poor critic to begin? Begin? whether we start from above, from below, at angles or across, whether we skim like a swallow over the work, weaknesses will present themselves at every step. But suppose he has begun, where is he to leave off? but no matter, let us venture upon the task. Why is everything to be censured? Why is criticism to demand absolute perfection, since the art itself cannot arrive at it; and since the greatest work of art must fall short of the desired perfection, at least as far as regards an author who culls his labour to a strict account? Goethe himself confesses unceremoniously, that a work of art can never be finished: why should we, Dii minorum gentium, not subscribe to that opinion? Why should criticism take into its head to attain a greater perfection? No such thing! The reader therefore shall be served with more critical aphorisms;—a critical thunderstorm, with some flashes of lightning. But ad rem! The overture, a charivari more destitute of ideas, a more unmeaning ding-dong of instruments, a more mawkish whine of melody, has never reached my ears or eyes. Verily the overture is invaluable! it is as if it were prefixed to the work as a sort of board, with the warning ‘Here nothing is to be gained, a mere triumph of insipidity is celebrating within.’ It is, indeed, a bold thing to speak thus of a renowned man, who has the public so much on his side. Honest Germans! Honest Viennese in particular!—for you more especially constitute the public of Bellini—I have but a poor opinion of you who can live tens of years without hearing Gluck, who can find Mozart antiquated, and Beethoven’s Fidelio and Weber’s Euryanthe dull and tedious. From that which you reject and spurn, we may judge to a nicety of the value of that which you choose. But let us proceed: choruses, arias, recitativos, everything runs helter skelter, without rhyme or reason, into each other, and at cross purposes. Tebaldo sings like Romeo; Romeo like Lorenzo; Lorenzo like Julia; the enemy like the friend; the happy like the miserable; the lover like the deadly foe. How divine! how perfectly freed is the critic from the odious task of entering into the sense and meaning of a work of art! How heavenly a state of existence when the mind is absolved from all exertion, when we may stretch our limbs comfortably, gape away, and enjoy the dolce far niente! I myself had nearly fallen into this pleasing state; I felt as if I had exclaimed, ‘Pursue your musical sounds; blow on, whistle, fiddle, and drum away; drag the melody through endless suspensions like a chain of sighs, then let it rattle off like a Dutch alarm clock, which enhances the enjoyment of sleep, because it just renders us conscious of being asleep. But how is all this? How comes it that every thing penetrates but skin deep? How? because the question was to write something which should not remind the hearer that he possessed a heart or brains; or, in short, that he was an intellectual being. But surely this problem might have been solved by the composer in a less offensive manner. Fifths and octaves will split the tympanum of a New Zealander, of a buffalo; will rupture the asses’ skin of a drum itself. Oh, Signor Bellini, you really are going beyond a joke with our poor ears! Faults and crudities are permitted, we allow, but such lumps and clumps of faults which would make an elephant stumble, such blocks, ought surely not to have been strewed across my critical path. The public, it is true, regards them as genial mountains, as aërolites dropped from the moon, or a something else unheard of before. Ah, if they remained but unheard! if they were but inaudible! but there are many abodes upon earth, and I will add, there are many sorts of ears.

Dearest friend,—I hear my readers exclaim,—we perfectly perceive that you will never cease censuring; but do pray begin to bestow your praise too. Courteous readers of the Iris, the latter is more difficult than to leave off finding fault. You fancy perhaps I need only say the composer writes advantageously for the voice; really that would be one of the most barefaced fibs that I could be guilty of, according to my notion of what constitutes genuine song. True it is, that he writes for vocal caricature, for the very[Pg 194] destruction of the vocal art, in which everything noble and beautiful stands a fair chance to be thus ruined. Although there may be found, here and there, singers who know how to transfer what is great and valuable in their art, even to such specimens of its degeneracy and abuse. And this indeed is the sole reason why the operas of such composers maintain their ground in Italy; they afford opportunities to a singer destitute of true feeling of showing his vocal volubility and execution, and of creating astonishment by such means; while to the great singer they present a field for compensating by his art, that which the brainless author was incapable of producing. But in the eye and ear of the true connoisseur, such productions must ever remain monsters. Bellini, and still worse Rossini, laugh at the idea of expressing words or feelings by means of music; inasmuch as the most insipid, commonplace ideas are often resorted to, to depict situations of the most intense interest. But let it not be thought, after all, that the composers or the public intend to forego this requisite expression. Far from it. The singer is expected to supply this desideratum, and thus coarse minds get hammered into them that which is insupportable to a cultivated taste; in the same manner as children or savages look upon a glaringly rouged and tinselled doll as a decided beauty, while to a cultivated eye the sight is revolting. In this doll, we no doubt trace the embryo of an attempt at the beautiful, as much as in Bellini’s finales, which, like the papier maché busts in barbers’ shops, with their full blown cheeks and inch deep rouge, are meant to represent loveliness.

Jam satis! But is there really nothing whatever to be praised? For the true judge in the art, nothing? Here and there we distinguish an evanescent bubble, as it were, of some little melodic beginning, which just proves that, as in the most obdurate being, the spark of what is good is not totally extinct,—so in the most perverted taste, and in a state of its greatest degeneracy, there will still lurk some remains of the feeling for the beautiful inherent in our nature. Of this kind are the Romance, however supported by the most clumsy harmony—the funeral dirge of the young maidens, &c. &c. But enough: were I to begin to enumerate the mere germs of what is good, I should have to do the same with the full-leaved, full-blossomed weeds, in which case, my critique would probably occupy the whole of the future numbers of the Iris for the remainder of the year.

REVIEW OF NEW MUSIC.

Mr. Pye’s work is, in choir language, a full anthem with verse, for soprano, alto, two tenors, and a base, in three movements: the first, full, in D minor; the second verse, five voices, in F; and the third, a fugue in D major, full, for four voices. The whole, both design and execution, is in the orthodox style of the latter end of the seventeenth and beginning of the eighteenth centuries. Weldon and Croft have been the composer’s models, but only so far as regards manner; he has borrowed nothing, for though we cannot ascribe any positive originality to this anthem—not any absolutely new thought,—yet the author has made himself debtor to no one for a single passage that we can recognise. The first movement is decidedly the best, it evinces much musical learning without any of its pedantry: the fugue style is adopted for effect, not for display; the harmony is rich without being loaded, and the modulations are of that grave and becoming kind which characterises the works of the composers whom we have just named; but throughout the whole we feel a want of their melody. There is, however, more of this essential ingredient in the verse, though it is not over-abundant even here. The last movement is a fugue of two subjects, sufficiently worked to satisfy those who delight in composition that smells of the lamp, and not so laboured as to offend such as think music an art to be addressed to the ear, rather than the eye.

Mr. Pye, a very young artist, has done himself much honour by this composition. Will our choirs second his efforts, and encourage others to proceed in the same course, by immediately adopting his anthem? They ought, if they have any respect for talent, or if they consult the interests of cathedral establishments.

Neither the title-page nor an advertisement, added to a large list of subscribers, enable us to penetrate deep into the history of the Cantata No. 2, which we at first took for a sacred composition, but afterwards found to be an abominable mésalliance of religion and politics, beginning with a part of the fortieth chapter of the prophet Isaiah, and ending with such profitless lines as the following:—

But the music, by Hummel, and in his best manner, is worthy of so much of the poetry as is borrowed from the inspired writer, and far too good for the uninspired verses that follow. The promoters of this work, however, it seems, intend to make some provision for two orphans out of the proceeds, and we hope that success will attend their benevolent endeavours; wishing at the same time that they had been as fortunate in their choice of words as in their music and number of subscribers.

No. 3 is a continuation of a work noticed before. In this appears the Lord’s prayer, set to music by Mr. T. Cooke, who—we are sure very unintentionally, but very unluckily—has, by his manner of setting, turned it almost into burlesque, e. g.

Then we have a rest after ‘earth,’ but none after ‘heaven,’ so that the reading is thus,—‘As it is in heaven give us this day our daily bread;’ and ‘daily’ is made emphatic, (with a certain jerk,) instead of the word ‘bread;’ thus—

After this comes ‘trespasses,’ with a strong accent on the third syllable. The last fifteen words are so often repeated as to fill two closely engraved pages, and the phrase, ‘for ever and ever,’ is reiterated no less than ten times, the movement being marked allegro moderato! Let us hope that but few, if any, will be found to misemploy this fine, comprehensive, universal prayer, by singing it as thus set. Indeed, we never wish to hear it sung at all. The other pieces in these numbers are, a very pleasing duet from Marcello’s Psalms; the first stanza of Sir Walter Scott’s translation of Dies Iræ, well set, particularly the first movement, by Mr. M’Murdie; and Millico’s beautiful arietta, ‘Ho sparso tante lagrime,’ with English words adapted to it.

No. 4 includes the greatest number of hymns we ever met with in one collection. The volume, which takes a shape we can only describe by its dimensions, is twelve inches wide by rather more than six deep, consisting of nearly four hundred pages, which contain at least five hundred tunes. These are selected from various works, and are all in score, in four parts, for soprano, alto, tenor, and base; and as no accompaniment is given, the want of a figured base will be felt by the organist. For the middle parts a new character is used—something in the form of a treble clef, and giving the same names to the staff; the intention of which is, to save the trouble of directing the alto and tenor to sing the notes an octave lower. The inventor of this is a Mr. Gay, who disapproves the employment of the base clef for the tenor voice, preferring the treble, or his own character. He assigns no reason for this, and most probably has none to offer, unless he can defend prejudice. But he is bound to show cause why such harmony as the subjoined is to be allowed:—

Such consecutive fifths, though false fifths, are much worse to the ear than some successions of perfect ones. The crotchet A ought to have fallen to G. But the same gentleman—who it appears has ‘revised and corrected’ this work—is answerable for a very extraordinary error, in calling certain keys by their wrong names. For instance, he denominates the key of B flat, ‘B major;’ E flat, ‘E major;’ and, mirabile dictu! gives the right name to the real key of E major; thus making the keys of E three flats and E four sharps, &c., the same in denomination.

Of these numerous tunes, only the notes are inserted, we therefore cannot tell how the words are adapted to them, or how accented; but, with an exception or two, the harmony of such few as we have examined is correct, and the parts sing well. The compiler, Mr. Hawkes, has inserted some few of his own compositions, which show great taste, and afford another proof of the progress making in musical knowledge by amateurs. The work is printed in a remarkably neat, small, but clear type, and we doubt not will prove of considerable utility to the large class of persons for whose use it is published.

THE PASSIONS, being SIX SONGS, each with a descriptive Proem, and Graphic Illustrations: the Poetry by JOS. LUNN; the Music by G. F. STANSBURY, T. COOKE, J. PARRY, F. W. HORNCASTLE, J. C. CLIFTON, and E. TAYLOR. The Illustrations by R. J. HAMERTON. (Goulding and D’Almaine.)

THE Passions are hazardous matters for poets, painters, and musicians to meddle with in the way of art. Collins succeeded in them well; Le Brun tolerably. Dr. Cooke set Collins’ Ode, but reaped no laurels from his labours; and we are not aware that any other attempt to describe, in musical language, these powerful emotions of the mind was ever made till now; for those choruses called ‘The Passions,’ in Handel’s Solomon, are improperly designated.

But what are the passions? Metaphysicians are by no means agreed on this point. Nay, a distinguished writer goes so far as to allow but one, self-love! and asserts that all the others are but modifications of this. Mr. Lunn well observes, that ‘there are many affections, attributes, &c., usually denominated passions, which have no claim to that definite appellation.’ And he afterwards adds, ‘I am induced to consider the six which I have chosen for my task,—namely, Love, Joy, and Hope, and their opposites, Hate, Grief, and Despair, as the roots, or bases; or, if the expression be admissible, the Cardinal Passions, of which all the rest are ramifications, modifications, or combinations.’ (Introduction.)

It appears from the Preface to this volume, that two composers were severally invited by Mr. Lunn to set his poetry to music, but that one, after requiring many months to consider the subject, declined; and the other was bound by engagements which prevented his undertaking the task. The probability is, that the latter, Mr. Bishop, well knew the difficulty of such an enterprise, and was not very willing to risk his reputation in it. The other was blessed with more intrepidity, and embarked in a work of a similar kind [87], though he had, in a modest excuse, declared his incompetency to set the poetry of his friend.

Mr. Lunn, being thus deserted and disappointed, at length presented his manuscript to the Melodists’ Club, six of whose members undertaking to set the words, the volume under notice was produced.

The first, LOVE, is an elegant composition in A flat, but much too grave for the words, which, we should imagine, the author meant to be set in a light, playful manner.

The second portrays HATE in the proem or exordium, but in the song launches out into certain moral reflections on valour, and the generosity springing from this, describing the passion by its contraries; which we cannot but consider as injudicious, because at variance with what was, or what ought to have been, the general design of the poet,[Pg 196] who, when he ceased to depict, should at least have illustrated by resemblances, not opposites. Hence the composer, who has well expressed the deadly passion, has been driven into a trumpety, military style in his air, which, we must add, is quite of the common theatrical kind.

Joy is the third, and, with the exception of a pastoral movement, which certainly is anything but suited to so active, so almost riotous a passion, the composer has well designed his work, but wanted vigour in the execution.

No. 4, GRIEF, is evidently the work of a thinking composer, and of a very good musician. There are some excellent points in this; but the want of unity in the poem has necessarily influenced the composer. We conceive that each passion should have stood alone, unweakened by any adjunct. Here we have the pleasure of memory added to the pangs of grief; thus both poetry and music are enfeebled.

The fifth, HOPE, is not lyrical poetry—the composer therefore must not be blamed for having made little of it. He does not seem to have spared effort, but his labour has been bestowed on an unfruitful soil.

The ‘proem’ to this, the actual description of the passion, is graphic; and, if we may use the expression, is graphically set. A modulation here is worth quoting:—

But the rest of the song, though ably composed, is neither more nor less than a moral to the tale, therefore objectionable in our eyes, because abandoning that which ought to have been the sole object,—the passion itself.

The lithographed illustrations have all considerable merit, that of Joy excepted: the work is very well brought out, and proves the liberal views of the society.

PIANO-FORTE.

THE first of these is one of those happy effusions of genius that rarely occur, combining originality, most agreeable effect, and that simplicity of construction as well as of notation, which places it within reach of every tolerable player. It is in B minor, and consists of but five pages.

No. 2 exhibits M. Czerny in a rational shape; he has here not only selected some of the best airs from the popular opera of Auber, but arranged them with taste, and in a manner that will exclude no ordinary performer from benefiting by his fantasia.

No. 1 is, we conclude, made up of German dance tunes, well blended, and arranged in an easy familiar manner for both instruments, the flute part being almost necessary as an accompaniment, if not what is understood by the term obbligato. This is a gay, exhilarating bagatelle; but some few passages, particularly for the left hand, show that it is not intended for mere tyros; and it may, without any loss of caste to the parties, be introduced by performers of the first class.

No. 2 are the very pretty airs sung so often in public last season by Madlle. Pixis, and now very soberly arranged by the composer, making three remarkably pleasing divertimentos, not difficult, short, and sure to be admired by nearly every description of auditors. But the title is curious, considered as coming from the author himself. Few persons have the hardihood to speak of their own productions as ‘Gems;’ and that they are in the manner of, or à la, Pixis, cannot be denied, seeing that he composed them.

No. 1 is composed of Shield’s beautiful air, ‘The Streamlet,’ the march in Mosé, ‘Il ne sont plus,’ and the Cobourg Waltz; No. 2, of three Swiss airs. These are formed into very easy divertimentos, extremely well adapted for young players; to be occasionally mixed, however, with music of[Pg 197] a better description than the Swiss and Cobourg productions.

We are not acquainted with the air of No. 3 in its original state, but it makes a good rondo, and Mr. Andrews’ share in this entitles him to some praise.

No. 1 is clever, without showing much invention. His enharmonic modulation is bold and effective.

No. 2 has cost a good deal of labour without making at all a proportionate return.

The subjects of No. 3 are, the Gallope in Faust, a chansonnette of Plantada, and an air in the ‘Sybarites of Florence,’ short and easy, but not possessing much of an interesting kind.

DUETS, PIANO-FORTE.

THE overture to Semiramide, Rossini’s fine serious opera, is a most effective work in almost any shape, but as a duet, and with the accompaniments now added to the piano-forte part, it leaves nothing to wish, when performed in private rooms, where loud wind instruments are never heard to advantage, and a drum is unendurable. Mr. Watts’s arrangement is full, but not crowded, and he has given more than usual importance to his instrumental parts, which, however, are not difficult, but form highly valuable additions to the composition.

No. 2 are, ‘Papataci,’ the everlastingly-hacked, worn-out trio from L’Italiana in Algeri, and ‘Ah! se a me riede,’ from Elisa e Claudio, both extremely well converted into duets, the second part quite easy, the upper not so much so, but far from difficult, and both moderate in length and agreeable in effect.

No. 3 is a clear arrangement of a chorus very popular in Germany now, and which will be so here two or three years hence.

VOCAL.

FROM the time of the Prince of Venosa, who died in 1614, to the present year, not a single instance of a noble composer of madrigals was to be found, till Lord Burghersh produced No. 1 of the above, which was first heard at Mr. Sale’s concert in May last. The decidedly favourable manner in which madrigals were received last season, both at the Ancient and Vocal Concerts, most likely induced the noble Lord to turn his attention to this kind of music, and we are glad that it has found so able and influential a patron. No. 1, in B flat, carries with it internal evidence of having been wholly designed before any part of it was committed to paper; the unity, so well sustained from beginning to end, is an incontestable proof of this. Herein consists one of its greatest merits, while the melody which flows through it is not less to be admired. This is written in the true stile madrigalesco, a style distinguished by its free imitations and double counterpoint, and the effect of the whole is remarkably good; though to bring it fairly out the singers must be on the alert, and give their earnest attention to the unexpected transitions that occur. While we state how much this has pleased us, we must confess that there are one or two points in which we differ from the composer. Had, for instance, the diminished 7th (page 10, bar 7) been resolved, we should have been better satisfied; and wish that the piano-forte accompaniment (which should only be used when singers require support) had continued with the voices throughout, instead of being raised an octave above them in the latter part of the composition.

No. 2 will please the most uncultivated hearers by the beauty of its melody, and connoisseurs will discover that it possesses also other claims to notice, founded on what is not so obvious to the uninitiated in such compositions. The same consistency is observable in this as in the preceding; the subjects all stand in a certain traceable relationship to each other, and lead us to suppose that the whole was struck off at a heat. This is an original work, and not less pleasing than new. The ease and sweetness of the air will, of course, be most generally noticed, but those who are alive to the charms of harmony may find enough here to engage their attention very agreeably. In a word, there are no commonplaces either in this or the former; both bear the uncounterfeited stamp of true genius,—by which we mean, the union of invention and taste.

No. 3 is a pastoral quartet, andantino, in six-eight time, the words are set with judgment, the melody is flowing and happily imagined, the inner parts are well written, and the whole produces that agreeable, tranquillizing effect which, we conclude, was the main object of the composer.

No. 1 is a deeply expressive air in A flat, with an accom[Pg 198]paniment abounding in those riches of harmony which Spohr possesses in his ample stores. This was sung by Mrs. Wood at a Philharmonic concert, Mr. E. Taylor having very cleverly converted the German into Italian for the occasion. It may be thought a bold thing to differ from the author respecting the movement of his air, but it seems to us that in using the words ‘Allegro Vivace,’—(we say nothing about the literal meaning and tautology)—he either mistakes their power, or directs a much greater degree of quickness than is favourable to good effect. That time understood by the term allegretto, appears to us to be best suited to both words and music. But, to say the truth, most of the Italian words used in music are very barbarously perverted.

M. Pixis’ three songs, though imitations of Swiss airs, are the most pleasing things that we have seen from his pen for a long time past. They were sung by Madlle. Pixis, at the Queen’s palace this spring, and pleased much.

These are for a mezzo-soprano, and though not very difficult, require much flexibility of voice, as well as some skill to do them justice. The airs are varied to the second and third stanzas, and the singer is there called upon to exert herself. The English words are well adapted to the melodies.

No. 3 is not distinguishable from at least a hundred airs of the same kind that have been heard on the Italian stage within the last fifteen years. Signor Rubini’s ‘Graces and Embellishments’ amount to little beyond a turn or two, written at length; and we are thankful to him for adding no more: if he had inserted only half that he sings, we never could have got through one quarter of this arietta.

No. 2—which we rather think is by a fair amateur—is in the Scottish style, simple, tender and pleasing.

No. 3 is a charming melody, well accompanied. Perhaps the music is a little too tranquil for words which speak such ill-suppressed agony of feeling.

No. 4 displays more elegance of taste than originality; but the poetry is most correctly set, and the ballad being popularly composed, will soon make its way.

No. 5 is the soliloquy of a very youthful dandy, the words entertaining, and the music not inappropriate.

No. 6 is not less pleasing for being in the neglected rondo style. The melody is good, and the words correctly set, both as regards meaning and accent.

No. 7 has cost the composer some labour, we fear in vain, for it is not calculated to become very popular; nevertheless, the hand of a musician is conspicuous in every part of it.

No. 8 is a clever song, and the air has some novelty in it, therefore a rarity. The accompaniment is full, and may alarm those who are apt to take fright at double sharps; but it is ably composed. The poet’s notion, that music is ‘the wine of the soul,’ is to us new: we know by sad experience that it often operates as a narcotic, when not so noisy as Bellini’s Norma.

No. 9 is respectable, but certainly boasts not a new thought; except, indeed, the introduction of a solitary bar of nine quavers, which had better have been omitted.

No. 10 is a sly attack on the slave system. If the arguments against it had always been as feeble as the music of this song, real emancipation would have even a poorer chance than it now has, when a trifle of twenty millions is devoted to its accomplishment.

In No. 11 is a great deal more than we fear will be properly appreciated. The composer will gain reputation by his canzonet—(a cantata implies recitative) but no profit.

No. 12 is pretty, but like a thousand other songs. Why such a runaway ritornel? Is it an imitation of the West wind?

HARP.

THE first of the above is in three short movements, besides a few introductory arpeggios. A certain gracefulness characterizes this, rather than originality or energy. It is, however, skilfully adapted to harp-players, who, generally speaking, are not very desirous of combating difficulties; and they have reason on their side, so far as relates to those of execution; but difficulty arising from novelty, from un[Pg 199]expected cadences and combinations, is of a totally different kind, and ought to be encouraged whenever met with; which is but seldom, we must allow.

No. 2 is a very lovely air, and, though Scotch, quite unknown to us, to which are added four variations of the usual kind. An easy prelude in a few arpeggioed chords, in fact, introduces the air; the whole filling six pages only.

HARP AND PIANO-FORTE.

The favourite AIRS in the Ballet-Opera of La Bayadère, arranged by T. LABARRE. Op. 48. (Chappell.)

WE have here the march in F, with the airs, ‘Ainsi pour me sauver la vie,’ and ‘Sois ma Bayadère,’ combined into a Fantaisie. Neither of the parts is difficult, but the greatest responsibility is thrown on that of the piano-forte, which indeed is just, for this instrument possesses far more capability than the other. M. Labarre has made a very pleasant piece out of these airs, and will do well to select a few more for a similar purpose.

VIOLIN.

THEMA, with VARIATIONS, with an accompaniment for the Piano-forte, composed by HENRY G. BLAGROVE, Violinist to HER MAJESTY. (Boosey and Co.)

THIS consists of an introduction and an air in E, with five variations. The air is delicate and pleasing; the variations are of the bravura kind for the violin, the piano-forte part being, as stated, a mere accompaniment. We find no room here for censure, and should not be justified in saying any great deal in the shape of praise.

VIOLONCELLO AND PIANO-FORTE.

MR. CROUCH has selected for No. 1 an andante, and a romance with three variations, by Bideau; a romance by Bochsa and Duport; an allegro by Bernard Romberg; and an air, andante, by Weber. No. 2 contains an andante by Romberg; an air, with six variations, by Dotzauer; a rondoletto by Beezwarzowsky, the latter preceded by an adagio; and an allegretto by Weigl. Most of these are compositions of decided merit, those of Romberg especially so. In point of difficulty they preserve a just medium, but require performers possessing taste for both instruments. In the violoncello part the arranger uses only the base and treble clefs, which proves his good sense. He need not fear the anathemas of the sticklers for ancient practices; such folks are daily diminishing in number.

GUITAR AND PIANO-FORTE.

‘Jadis régnait en Normandie,’ from MEYERBEER’s Robert, arranged as a Duet by M. NEULAND. Op. 13. (Chappell.)

DUETS for these instruments are getting more and more into use, and M. Neuland is well qualified to make arrangements of this kind, as the present shows, which is a very excellent adaptation of the original, clever, and popular air in an opera which will be better understood in England a few years hence than it has yet been.

EXTRACTS FROM THE DIARY OF A DILETTANTE.

July 15th. I broke off with some calculations, and a remark of Mr. Madden, in his Infirmities of Genius, &c., concerning the longevity of musicians. I now extract what he says of the temperament and disposition of the same class of artists, though I do not agree with him either in his premises or conclusions.—‘Music,’ says Mr. M., ‘is to sensibility what language is to poetry—the mode of expressing enthusiastic sentiments and exciting agreeable sensations. The more imagination a composer is able to put into his music the more powerfully he appeals to the feelings. Sensibility is the soul of music, and pathos its most powerful attribute.

‘Pythagoras imagined that music was the soul of life itself, or that harmony was the sum total of the faculties, and the necessary result of the concert of these faculties and of the bodily functions.

‘Musical composition, then, demands extraordinary sensibility, an enthusiastic imagination, an instinctive taste rather than deep thought. The same qualities differently directed make the poet. Is it, then, to be wondered at that we should find the poets and the musical composers considerably shorter lived than the followers of all other learned or scientific pursuits, whose sensibility is not exercised by their studies, whose imaginations are not wearied by excessive application and enthusiasm. The term “genus irritabile” deserves to be transferred from the poetical to the musical tribe; for we take it that an enraged musician is a much more common spectacle than an irritated bard, and infinitely more rabid in his choler.

‘Generally speaking, musicians are the most intolerant of men to one another,—the most captious,—the best humoured when flattered, and the worst tempered at all other times. Music, like laudanum, appears to soothe the senses when used in moderation, but the continual employment of either flurries and excites the faculties, and often renders the best-natured men in the world, petulant, irritable, and violent.’

Of the short-lived composers, Cimarosa died of corpulency, no indication of an irritable state of mind; Lully, from an accident; Mozart was weakly from his birth; Pergolesi lost his life in consequence of a hemorrhage; Purcell, it is to be feared, from imprudent indulgencies in conviviality; and Weber, from hereditary consumption. Surely there is as much wear and tear of the body from excited imagination in poets and painters as in musicians; but the two former do not live so much in society, have not to breathe the foul air of theatres, to bear heated rooms; and, generally speaking, they are more cautious. As[Pg 200] to the comparative professional jealousy of painters and musicians, the former themselves admit their possession of it in the greatest abundance. And with regard to temper, Mr. Madden must have founded his calculations on some two or three unhappy instances: had he drawn his inference from any general experience, it would have been widely different. Poets and painters have commonly more cultivated minds than musicians, and these may enable them better to control their emotions; thus what is suppressed is by an easy mistake supposed not to exist.

20th. The musical profession has lost a clever and highly respectable member in Mr. Philip Knapton, of York, who died in June last, at an early age. He was author of several popular compositions, both vocal and instrumental: among the former, the songs, ‘There be none of beauty’s daughters,’ and ‘When we two parted,’ will long prevent his name from being forgotten by those who were unacquainted with his personal merits.

26th. All who are interested in German literature have by this time read the Characteristics of Goethe, either in the original, or as admirably translated by Mrs. Austin; but many who have no leisure or no inclination to look into publications of the kind, are anxious to be acquainted with whatever relates to their own professional or favourite pursuit: hence admirers of music will be pleased to meet with the following notices concerning Zelter, who was not long since made known to this country by a memoir of him, and an air, published in the Harmonicon.

The intimacy of Zelter with Goethe was of the closest kind, as will appear from the following extract of a letter to Mrs. Austin from Prince Pückler-Muskau, dated June 25th, 1832. He says, ‘The celebrated composer Zelter, one of Goethe’s most intimate friends, has died at Berlin, literally of Goethe’s death. They wrote to each other regularly every week (the correspondence will soon be published). Zelter was in perfect health. But the first Saturday (the day on which he used to receive his letters) after Goethe’s death, he became dejected and silent: the second found him ill; and on the third, death softly led him to rejoin his immortal friend.’

The great poet mentions his early acquaintance with his friend,—who was divided between that which was then his profession, and that which he wished it to be—in the following energetic language:—‘With Zelter, too, my connexion became nearer; during his fortnight’s visit we had mutually become much more intimate, in both an artistical and moral sense. He found himself in a strange dilemma between a business [88] which he had inherited, exercised from youth up, and mastered, and which secured to him a maintenance, and an innate, powerful, resistless passion for art, which unfolded the whole riches of the world of sound out of his own soul,—carrying on the one, carried along by the other,—possessing in the one an acquired dexterity, in the other striving after a dexterity yet to be acquired: he stood not, like Hercules, on the boundary between what was to be embraced and what to be shunned; but he was drawn hither and thither by two muses equally worthy of his homage; one of whom had already possession of him, the other wished to win him to herself. With his honest, sturdy, citizen-like earnestness, he was as much impressed with the necessity of moral culture as that is akin to, nay, embodied with, æsthetic—and the existence of perfection in the one, and not in the other, is not to be thought of.’—(Tag-und-Jahres Hefte, 1803.)

The correspondence of these two friends, which it is supposed will occupy many volumes, is preparing for the press, and anxiously expected by the lovers of genius, who, in Germany, may be said to include nearly all the adult population.

August 5th. In a work just published, under the title of—‘Exposition of the False Medium excluding Men of Genius from the Public,’ is a direct charge against the musical manager of a theatre, which, if not met by a contradiction, will certainly be believed, and not much to the glory of the party concerned. If true, the only apology to be offered is, that this is the true country of Mammon; nowhere is pelf so eagerly grasped at; notwithstanding which, nowhere are so ostentatiously displayed the outward signs of a religion which makes the contempt of riches, or in fact downright poverty, the condition on which future happiness is to depend.

6th. Three more delightful volumes of Horace Walpole’s letters, addressed nearly a century ago to Sir Horace Mann, have just been published by Lord Dover, who only lived to see the work out!

The noble author, in a letter dated October 8th, 1741, thus mentions an inclination in the public of that period to put down the Italian opera. It is curious to remark the time of its opening. In those days people went into the country in the spring, and returned to town in the autumn. What Hottentots!

‘The Opera begins,’ he tells his friend, ‘the day after the King’s birth-day. The directors have already laid out great sums. They talk of a mob to silence the operas, as they did the French players, which will be more difficult; for here half the young noblemen in town are engaged, and they will not be so easily persuaded to humour the taste of the mobility: in short, they have already retained several eminent lawyers from the Bear Garden (boxers) to plead their defence.’ In a letter dated May 24th, 1743, he thus speaks of Handel’s first oratorio.—‘Handel has set up an oratorio against the operas, and succeeds. He has hired all the goddesses from farces, and the singers of Roast Beef from between the acts at both theatres, with a man with one note in his voice, and a girl without ever a one; and so they sing, and make brave hallelujahs; and the good company encore the recitative (!) if it happens to have any cadence like what they call a tune.’ The song alluded to is ‘The Roast Beef of Old England,’ which the galleries used always to call for between the acts. As to recitatives having ‘any cadence like what they call a tune,’ I must confess that I do not understand what is meant: unless, which is possible, the satirical writer means to insinuate that the public of his day could not distinguish between recitative and air.

‘We are next Tuesday to have the Miserere of Rome. It must be curious! the finest piece of vocal music in the world to be performed by three good voices, and forty bad ones, from Oxford, Canterbury, and the farces!’ From this it appears that the chorus singers of his day were brought from the country choirs to London; the metropolis, even with the assistance of the chorus from the theatre, (the ‘farces’) could not furnish forty voices!

In March, 1746, Horace Walpole thus speaks of the Italian opera, and of Gluck, the celebrated composer:—

‘The opera flourishes more than in any latter years; the composer is Gluck, a German; he is to have a benefit, at which he is to play on a set of drinking-glasses, which he modulates with water. I think I have heard you speak of having seen some such thing.’

The Chevalier Gluck exhibiting on the musical glasses! There must be a mistake in this; some other person, surely, was engaged by the great composer for this purpose.

But a few months later in the same year, the same writer is in another story. The anecdote is curious for half a dozen reasons:—

‘Lord Middlesex [89] took the opportunity of a rivalship between his own mistress, the Nardi, and the Violetta, (a German, afterwards Mrs. Garrick,) the finest and most admired dancer in the world, to involve the whole menage of the opera in the quarrel, and has paid nobody; but like a true lord of the treasury, has shut up his own exchequer. The principal man-dancer was arrested for debt; to the composer his lordship gave a bad note, not payable in two years, besides amercing him entirely three hundred pounds, on pretence of his siding with the Violetta.’

9th. The annexed advertisement—for such it undoubtedly is—appears in the Morning Post of to-day. This paper would never have inserted it unless paid for, I am convinced:—

‘Bochsa, with Mr. and Mrs. R. Bishop, Phillips, and Mori, is going in a few days to Leamington and Malvern, and to the Isle of Wight, to give some concerts, under the patronage of their Royal Highnesses the Duchess of Kent and the Princess Victoria. The success which that distinguished harpist met with last season in the provinces, while exhibiting his new harp effects, has perhaps induced him to try the experiment again.’

Mr. and Mrs. Bishop, Mr. H. Phillips, and Mr. Mori, must feel highly dignified, and equally gratified, at being thus announced as the train of M. Bochsa,—as his tail!—to use a term applied, rather vulgarly, to a small parliamentary party; and the Duchess of Kent and Princess Victoria will not, I should suppose, be very well pleased at such use being made of their names.

‘It has been a mystery to many how Laporte has been able, under such accumulating losses, to carry on his season to its present termination, by which the subscribers, if we mistake not, are losers by several nights. It seems now generally admitted that he has paid scarcely anybody in full—that he has disbursed as far as his means by subscription and the takings at the doors went, and that his performers, giving him credit for good intentions, as well as for a large sum of money, have agreed to take bills at long dates, to be paid (if he can) out of the receipts of next season. This arrangement presumes that Laporte will continue his speculations at the King’s Theatre next season, which, we have some reason to know, may be questionable.’

I doubt the reality of M. Laporte’s great losses, though the losses of the subscribers, in almost every way, admit of no doubt.

18th. The Sunday evening performances of entirely sacred music at the Apollonicon Rooms in St. Martin’s Lane, have been stopped, by order of the Bishop of London, on the plea of money being taken for admission. Does not the poor curate serve two or three churches on a Sunday for money?—do not many public singers exercise their callings in various churches on a Sunday for profit?—In fact, do not the whole of the clergy labour more or less on that day with a view to gain? And is it not better that people should listen to sacred music on a Sabbath evening, after every place of worship is closed, than be compelled to wander about the streets for amusement, or be driven into places where drinking is a necessary condition of their admittance? Surely our bishops, some of them at least, have not read the History of Puritanism, or else they have read unprofitably. Do they not know that should ‘over-righteousness’ once more gain the ascendancy in this country, episcopacy would be the earliest of its victims?

25th. It appears from the Spectator of this day, that The Deluge, an oratorio composed by F. Schneider, was rehearsed on the 19th at the Hanover-square Rooms, preparatory to its performance at the ensuing festival at Norwich. The writer of the notice, a good critic, says, it ‘more than realizes our anticipations of its excellence: it combines the choral grandeur of the school of Bach and Handel with the instrumental richness of Haydn. The Deluge is a subject which affords an ample field for musical expression, and admits of every variety of vocal and instrumental combination. The parts which particularly struck us were,—a double chorus in E flat; a song, in which the instruments describe the rushing and roaring of the waters; a chorus in C, terminating with a fugue on two subjects; a terzetto in A; and the concluding chorus.’

Compositions of this class, when really excellent, ought to be the grand, nay almost the only, object of all musical festivals, considering the great vocal and instrumental force now usually assembled on such occasions; and they would actually cost less to perform than a train of vapid Italian airs of the living school—of the school of Mercadante, Bellini, &c., which, if they must be heard, would succeed much better—that is, would produce less intolerable effect, accompanied by a piano-forte, violoncello, flute, and horn, than by the finest band that can be assembled. The power of the orchestra, like the physical strength of a mob, only increases the evil when badly employed.

[Pg 202]

FOREIGN MUSICAL REPORT.

VIENNA.

OUR winter season was abundantly rich in concerts. Bernhard Romberg, the king of violoncellists, introduced himself to the public in the Hof-Operntheater, with two concertinos, a fantasia on Norwegian mountain airs, and a humorous melodic tableau, under the title of the Masked Ball, consisting of the following subdivisions. A. Introduction. B. Inclination for a dance. Tuning. Beginning of the dance. C. Dispute among the dancers. Peace and good order are enjoined. Tender endeavours at reconciliation. D. Music in the supper-room. E. Short interruption. Promenade in the Seufzer-Allee, ‘Avenue of Sighs.’ F. Crowding to the ball-room. Galoppade. Merry conclusion. Even those who are not particularly fond of the picturesque in music, could not help being pleased with the characteristic conception of the individual component parts of this medley, their ingenious combination into a consistent whole, and lastly, with the high skill and unique talent displayed by the master; for Romberg, although advanced in years, still continues to be the same great artist as hitherto, his instrument sings as sweetly as before, he playfully dallies with the most deterring difficulties, and will probably remain unexcelled for a long time to come. Mr. M. Schmidt, trombone player to the Electoral Chapel of Hesse Cassel, has visited us for the second time, on his return from Italy, and excited not only renewed admiration by his own performance, but also by the talents of a son, who fully promises to equal his father. Mr. Joachim Hoffman has brought out a new symphony of his composition, with which the theorist will scarcely be able to find fault; but the spirit of the present day demands imagination and inventive power, and is not satisfied with a mere learned combination of cold, dry, scholastic phrases.

The concerts of Messrs. Lewy, Krähmer and his lady, and of Miss Salamon, were very well attended; the first-named gentleman displayed his whole skill in a divertimento with the piano, by Thalberg; in a concerted duet between bassoon and piano; and also in a vocal piece, sung by Madlle. Heinefetter, accompanied by the same instruments. This mode of accompaniment with the tinkling of a piano, and a little horn, violoncello, or bassoon ‘sauce,’ which is gaining daily more ground in all Musical Academies—these pretty sort of instrumental duos and trios, however pleasant in a room, begin to be vastly tiresome and sickening in concerts. Mr. Krähmer and his lady played a concertante for the oboe and clarinet, with great taste, also solo variations on the czakan. Madame K. also played a violin rondo of Kreutzer, with a masculine power of bow, and the most vigorous precision; and in Beethoven’s Adelaide, which she gave on the clarinet with the greatest tenderness and feeling, we missed nothing but the text of the poem. A Polish family of artists, of the name of Kontsky, consisting of five branches, has created a great sensation here. Eugenie is a pleasing, cultivated singer. Anton, a pupil of Field, is a fine pianist, and instructor of his younger brother Stanislaus, who is only ten years old; Carl, who wields the violin with the hand of a master, is again the teacher of his younger brother Apollinar, who, although but seven years old, already creates surprise by his performance.

The Tonkünstler Societät (Society of Musicians) has brought out a new oratorio entitled Jephtha’s Gelubde, (The Vow of Jephtha,) composed by the court organist Assmayr. The poem is somewhat homely, but the composer has done all that could reasonably be expected, and has shown himself particularly conversant with the fugue style. The individuals of the orchestra and chorus establishments of the Kärnthnerthortheater have opened series of four subscription concerts, under the title of the Künstler Verein (union of artists). Among a variety of classic works of Beethoven, Mozart, C. M. von Weber, Cherubini, &c., some compositions of Mr. Lachner, their director, consisting of a symphony, a duet from his Cantata, ‘The four ages of mankind,’ together with some other works of his, were received with high approbation.

Although Vienna may justly boast of excellence in musical performances at all times, all parties nevertheless concur in opinion, that these performances excelled all previous ones, and that a composer may consider himself fortunate, if his works are seized with such deep feeling, and executed with such zeal, and a union of such masterly skill. The two movements from Beethoven’s last Mass, hitherto unknown to the public, appeared somewhat strange in their effect. The violin solo in this Mass, played by Mayseder with a rich bell-like tone, yet unembellished, raised expectations which were not realized: no one ventured an expression of censure, all was silent. This indeed was the most prudent course; and a critical judge observed very properly, ‘We hear all that this immortal master produced in the latest period of his active career, without being able to understand and relish his novel conceptions, because we have not yet arrived at the point of view from which the work is to be surveyed and judged of. We hear it for a second time, and individual passages begin to become luminous and clear; we hear it frequently, and then only we are struck with admiration and astonishment. Beethoven has made giant strides in advance of all of us: he will be better understood by a succeeding generation.’

The Concerts Spirituels were also of first-rate excellence. It would be superfluous to notice the numerous classic compositions of Mozart, Cherubini, Beethoven, C. M. von Weber, Vogler, and other great masters, which constituted the rich bills of fare; but a new Te Deum laudamus, by Tomascheck, must not be passed over in silence, although its merit can only be critically judged of when it shall have been published; it is grand and original, like every thing else produced by this great master.—Our Dance-Orpheus, Strauss, has lately launched a new set of waltzes, for the christening of which the whole of the Vienna public were invited to stand godfathers and godmothers. These waltzes were to be produced for the first time for his own benefit. Every visitor, on paying for his admission, had the privilege of giving in any title which he might like best. At the awful hour of midnight lots were drawn for the title to be adopted, and chance decreed[Pg 203] it to be Tausend Sapperments Walzer[90], under which name the new-born child has already begun its terrestrial career.

BERLIN.

THE month of May, which was here unusually warm, presented many interesting musical occurrences. The first of these was the performance of Haydn’s ever beautiful oratorio ‘The Seasons,’ produced by our general director of music, Spontini, on the boards of the Royal Opera Theatre, with the assistance of the whole of the solo and chorus singers of that establishment, and of the whole Royal Chapel, for the benefit of the charitable musical institution bearing his name. The performance was grand and effective in the extreme, though here and there some of the Tempi were rather hurried; a crowded audience expressed their delight at the masterly manner in which this classical composition was executed.

The Royal Opera distinguished itself by the excellent performance of Ferdinand Cortez, Castle Candra, The Vestal Virgin, Alcidor, and a new opera entitled Hans Heiling; the text by Edward Devrient, the singer, and the music by Henry Marschner, Kapell Meister, who attended in person. The success of this opera was not brilliant, but certainly honourable to the composer: its value, however, stands higher in our estimation than in that of the generality of the public; the reason is, it requires in many parts a serious, deep power of conception on the part of the audience; it takes for granted a sense, and a degree of cultivation for what is noble, which the major part of the theatrical public does not possess, which expects, for the most part, to be amused with senseless vulgarity, or, as is the case with Spontini’s newest operas, to be excited by tasteless splendour and noise. Marschner’s opera is calculated for a more civilized audience, and, by the few that belong to that class, its merit is fully acknowledged.

The music is varied in point of invention, highly intellectual in faithfully expressing the import of the poetry, and admirably instrumentalised. The poem contains many situations eminently susceptible of musical expression, some borrowed from the awful realms of the romantic, others taken from the more cheerful domain of pleasure and joviality; and in both respects, the composer has satisfied the expectation of the judicious critic.

In the Vestale, Mademoiselle Stephan, whose vocal talent develops itself more and more, and who, in the short space of six months, has made a very marked progress in scientific cultivation, sang very successfully the part of Julia, in which she had the advantage of Spontini’s own instruction; although, in a dramatic point of view, greater freedom of action might have been desirable. This defect, however, will no doubt be removed by further practice and experience. The whole representation of this excellent opera was masterly, and had the most powerful effect on the audience. Mlle. Lehman, as High-priestess, Messrs. Bader and Devrient, as Licinius and Cinna, as also the choruses, ballet, and orchestra, under the spirited conduct of the composer, contributed essentially to this result.

Concerts we also had in abundance. In one of these, given for the benefit of the Friederich Stift, (Frederick’s Institution,) the two singers, Demlles. Carl and Hoffman, appeared for the first time in public since their return to their native country. Demlle. Carl, whose fame had more particularly reached us from Turin and Madrid, evinced great progress in the cultivation of a good Italian vocal method. Her sonorous voice is flexible, and particularly pleasing in the mezza voce of the higher notes, which she intonates with the greatest precision and purity. Her style of execution is particularly calculated for the compositions of Nicolini, Rossini, and Pacini, but would gain considerably by a more intense degree of feeling and expression. Demlle. Hoffman had less opportunity of displaying to advantage her mezzo soprano voice in a duetto buffo than in an aria of Donizetti: upon the whole, however, it seemed as if this vocalist, who in her style and action has adopted the lively character of the southern inhabitants of Europe, had paid leas attention to the display of her beautiful lower notes, and, on the other hand, had devoted more care and study to the developement of her higher scale. A decisive judgment, however, upon the merits of these two singers can probably only be formed after we shall have seen them on the boards in their respective dramatic walks.

On the 15th May, the anniversary of Zelter’s death, forty members of the Singing Academy, which he directed for so many years with unexampled zeal and success, sang over his grave, at six o’clock in the morning, two sacred hymns, Wen hab ich sonst, als dich allein, (Whom have I else but thee alone,) and Wie herrlich ist die neue Welt, (How beautiful is the new world,) by way of testifying their respect for his memory; on which occasion the pillars of the iron railing around his tomb were tastefully decorated with garlands of fresh flowers.

Madame Caradori Allan gave a concert in the saloon of the playhouse. ‘This singer’ (a Berlin critic states) ‘does not possess a very strong voice, but it is uncommonly clear, vibrating, and silvery, if we may use the expression, and has received a high degree of cultivation. Madame Caradori’s style is that of the purest modern school, exempt from its faults: she executed all passages gracefully, and with taste; and in individual perfections, such as trills, divisions, &c. she has attained a degree of excellence which few singers before her could boast of. These qualifications, united to a graceful exterior, totally free from the coquettrie précieuse of most female singers of repute, gained this artist the applause of the public in an extraordinary degree.’

In the same concert played Mademoiselle Josephine Eder, from Vienna, a young pianist of great talent and skill.

Madame Schechner Waagen, whose absence we had to regret during the space of four years, reappeared on our boards in Gluck’s Iphigenia. Her voice does not possess the power it had six years ago, but it is quite the same as we found it in 1829, when a particular change took place in its quality, and it gained in gracefulness what it lost in point of strength. This lady has since made her appearance in the part of Fidelio: the effect, particularly in the second act, was truly overwhelming.

PRAGUE.

IN Demlle. Josephine Eder, a young pianist from Vienna,[Pg 204] whose concert was attended by a numerous and highly respectable audience, we found a youthful talent of superior order; and we have every reason to confirm the report which had preceded her, as regards the brilliant hopes for the future, which the high degree of her present cultivation is fully calculated to justify.

Demlle. Eder played a pianoforte concerto by Thalberg; and at the conclusion of the concert, variations by Franz Stadler upon a theme from the opera Die Braut, (La Fiancée,) and showed nut only a great sureness in conquering difficult passages, which however were not too frequent in either of these compositions, but still more an ease, mellowness, precision, and expression, united to pure feeling and refined taste, which even now entitle her to a distinguished place among competitors of a more advanced age. The fact of this young lady’s coming from Vienna might almost have been inferred, by her selecting the overture from Fidelio, by Beethoven.

With us Auber, Bellini, and Lindpainter, are now the order of the day. Bernhard Romberg has again visited us, and furnished to our musical public three very agreeable evenings by his unequalled skill; a circumstance the more welcome, as our Opera, in consequence of the indisposition of Mde. Podhorsky and Mr. Drake, is in a state of utter depression, and reduced to the representation of the most miserable farces and trash.

Mr. Romberg played in his first concert a concertino for the violoncello in G minor, written in his usual pleasant and cheerful style; and at the conclusion, the Masked Ball, a humorous piece for the violoncello. In his second concert Mr. Romberg again treated us with a couple of his newest compositions, viz. a second new concertino; and at the close of the evening a fantasia upon Norwegian rural national airs, which, however attractive, do not equal his Polish and Swedish national melodies.

BRESLAU.

OUR music-director, Mr. Mosevins, whose influence on the taste of the public, and especially of the singers of our city, is universally and gratefully acknowledged, has gained a fresh claim on our thanks by the production of Handel’s oratorio of Samson, on the eve of Palm Sunday, in which the vocal solo pieces, as well as the choruses, were chiefly performed by amateurs; the execution showed a careful and zealous rehearsal, and was received with universal satisfaction. In the Passion week we had abundance of musical performances. On Ash Wednesday, Graun’s Versöhnungslerden Christi, (the Redeeming Sufferings of Christ,) under the direction of Mr. Siegert; on Holy Thursday, Haydn’s Creation; on Good Friday, Graun’s Tod Jesu (the Death of Jesus); all these performances, however, were more or less deteriorated by the prevailing epidemic, the influenza. A variety of obligato cough accompaniments between the songs were, alas! too prevalent. Of our theatre we have but little to report. Herold’s Zampa was received with approbation. Meyerbeer’s Robert the Devil did not meet with success. Madame Piehl is, since the departure of Demlle. Wüst, our first and last singer. In the Autumn the meeting of natural philosophers to be held here is to derive additional interest by a musical festival, at which Handel’s Jephtha, and several vocal compositions of Spohr, Mozart, Hesse, and other eminent masters, are to be produced.

BREMEN.

WE have the pleasing task of reporting upon the performances of Demlle. Henriette Grabau, who, together with her brother Mr. A. Grabau, and Mr. Ullrich, (both members of the Leipzig orchestra,) delighted our musical public with two concerts. This lady’s voice has gained greatly in sureness and volume; her execution is pure and finished; she unites the Italian florid style to solid German song, so that she may be justly pronounced a classic vocalist. Mr. A. Grabau, as violoncellist, has also earned considerable applause; his endeavours to attain still higher perfection in his art will not fail to be crowned with success, for he possesses every qualification to arrive at first-rate eminence; he has a fine melodious tone, great versatility and strength of bow, and a true feeling and inspiration for the beautiful. A similar judgment may be passed on the violinist Mr. Ullrich, whose playing met with deserved approbation, and warrants the highest hopes for the future.

In conclusion, we have to mention a composition of our worthy Mr. Riem, performed by our Vocal Academy, at a country trip, which takes place every year in the fine season. It celebrates the charms of the month of May; and consists of eight parts with two quartet solo voices, so skilfully interlaced, so sweet, cheerful, and lively, that it would be impossible to imagine anything more attractive for such an occasion. It is a true lovely picture of delightful May, and excited universal interest.

KARLSRUHE.

THE Musik Verein (Musical Union), established about 1820, for the performance of sacred compositions, continues in a state of flourishing activity. Only the more ancient Italian and German compositions for the church are performed;—no operas. Among the former the pious labours of Palestrina, Durante, Bach, Handel, and Feska, are particularly attended to.

PARIS.

Don Giovanni is about to be represented at the Académie Royale de Musique with all the theatrical pomp end excellence of execution which are habitual to this theatre. Mad. Damoreau is to be the Zerlina, Madlle. Dorus Donna Anna, and Madlle. Falcon Donna Elvira; Nourrit represents Don Giovanni, Alexis Dupont Ottavio, Levasseur, Leporello, and Dabadie Mazetto.

[We are assured that the artistes who have just finished their engagements at the King’s Theatre, London, are thoroughly discouraged, and that few of them feel disposed to return another year to the capital of England. They complain of the deceptions which have for four or five years been practised on them. But these deceptions have not surprised us, for it is long since that we predicted what has at length happened. Revue Musicale.]

[Pg 205]

THE DRAMA.

KING’s THEATRE.

THIS theatre closed on Saturday the 10th of last month, with Paer’s Agnese, his finest work, in which the principal part, Uberto, was most ably performed by Sig. Tamburini. Of the rest we will in mercy say nothing.

Thus has terminated a season eminently distinguished by the performance of operas thoroughly worn out, and the production of two imported fresh from Italy, which proved less endurable than the hacks that preceded them. Nearly half the subscription nights passed with scarcely a tolerable performer on the stage; and for the other moiety, that is from Easter, twice as many performers were engaged as could be properly employed. This is called liberal and judicious management! But there is not much difficulty in being liberal when performers are sent off with bills at enormously long dates; and it is perfectly easy to gain a character for skilful management, if bringing out old operas badly, and new ones utterly destitute of every kind of merit, is thought worthy of praise.

The Observer has replied in the following article to a remark made in our last Number:—

‘Laporte’s total losses this season are said considerably to exceed 30,000l., but even including the 10,000l. he sacrificed to his unfortunate Covent Garden speculation, we cannot help thinking there is an exaggeration in the account. Some time since we mentioned the nightly expenses of the Opera as nearly 1,000l., a statement which has since been disputed by the Editor of the Harmonicon, who contends that they are not more than 750l.; but he is obviously referring to the year 1819, and seems not to take into view the increased charges in all the departments since that date. We are quite ready to admit that they ought certainly not to exceed 750l.; and a stop must be put to the exorbitant demands of foreign singers and dancers.’

Our contemporary has forgotten that he stated the nightly expenses of the theatre at considerably more than 1000l.; but no matter. He is extremely mistaken in supposing that our estimate of 750l. a night was made on the expenditure of 1819. The entire expenses of that season—a very wretched one—did not amount to 410l. nightly. And we will add, for the information of the writer in the Observer, that in the season of 1817, when the most complete company that ever performed on the Italian stage was engaged, the whole of the disbursements, of all and every kind, did not exceed 430l. a night. We are aware that the increased rent is now to be added; and for this, and other advances, we made much more than ample allowance: 650l. would have been nearer the mark than the larger sum. In some important departments, the expenses are less now than in the year to which we allude: the present mode of lighting with gas instead of wax, is a diminution of many hundred pounds; and in 1817 the lowest sum paid to the orchestral performers was eighteen shillings per night: do not several now take twelve, or even less? And during the best part of the season, are not some discharged for the evening, in order to admit auditors at fifteen shillings or a guinea each, thus saving the pay of performers, and gaining by filling their places with company? What, we would further ask, has been the cost of scenery, dresses, decorations, copying, &c. this season? Any frequenter of the Opera will answer, little more than half the usual sum, and less than half of what was due to the subscribers and the public. For, let it be borne in mind, the subscription was three hundred guineas for a box that cannot conveniently hold four persons, and rarely contains so many, though six tickets are issued for it; that is more than a guinea and a half per night for each person actually seated!

M. Laporte’s losses, it has been said, considerably exceed 30,000l.!—whoever reported this might as well have added another cypher, and made the sum three hundred thousand. That he lost much by Covent Garden there can be no doubt; but if he has very materially suffered by the King’s Theatre, why go on with it? With the increasing unwillingness to pay so enormously for boxes,—with the spirit of emigration so active,—when the public have found out that stalls are better in every respect than boxes, and cost a family about three-fourths less,—and when unskilful management is pretty sure to co-operate with all these causes,—what possible chance is there that the ensuing season will be better than the last? It must be worse; and with this prospect before him, M. Laporte would not risk another, should his losses by the Italian Opera have amounted to one-half, or even one-fourth of the most moderate sum reported.

It is easy to understand why statements of extraordinary losses are authorised, or, at least, why they remain uncontradicted. The King’s Theatre has always had the reputation of being a losing concern, but it is easy to show that most of those who have held it for the last fifty years have made money, much money, by it. And it is not very difficult to prove that, with tolerable management and a fair rent, it might always, upon an average of three years, be made a most profitable undertaking for the lessee, and a place of elegant amusement, highly creditable and useful to the metropolis of a great empire.

[Pg 206]

THE MUSIC OF THE PRESENT NUMBER.

THE Movement by Haydn is from his Œuvre 41^me., published at least forty years ago in Paris, and scarcely known here: the beauty of the melody, and the original manner in which it is treated, will not fail to strike our readers, and excite their surprise at its having been so long neglected.

THE Minuet of Handel, from the fifth of his twelve Grand Concertos, is known to the frequenters of the Ancient Concerts, and to none else! Wonder is often expressed, on the exhumation of such music, that it so long should have remained buried; but the wonder on this subject will at once cease, when it is considered that music is now a trade, carried on between professors and the shops.

THE Andante of Beethoven has found its way to few piano fortes in England. It is one of the composer’s early works, written when his genius was in full vigour, and before he had got into the habit of crowding his pages with passages which only few can execute.

WE are not aware that any one composition by Kirnberger has ever before been printed in this country. In fact, he was more distinguished as a theorist than as a composer: as the former he ranks, among those who read on the subject of music, who really study the science, as the greatest writer Germany ever produced. The present trifle is from Reichardt’s Musicalisches Kunstmagazin, there set to German words. Kirnberger, born at Saalfeld in 1721, was a pupil of Sebastian Bach, and died at Berlin in 1783. To him the world is indebted for most of the articles on music in the first volume of Sulzer’s Theory of the Fine Arts.

THE Song presented to us by Mr. Satchell is new, and, in our opinion, a most happy imitation of the best Scottish style.

VERY little of Buononcini’s music is now known any where: the formidable antagonist of Handel, the subject of Swift’s famous epigram, would be, but for the latter, forgotten. The arietta, however, now published for the first time in England, is alone sufficient to show that he possessed an elegant taste for melody. Giovanni Buononcini was born at Modena, about the year 1661, Dr. Burney conjectures. In 1748 he was invited to Vienna, by the Emperor of Germany, and composed an opera to celebrate the peace of Aix la Chapelle! The time of his death is not known, but it is supposed that he attained nearly 100 years.

PREPARING FOR PUBLICATION,

THE MUSICAL LIBRARY;

TO APPEAR IN WEEKLY NUMBERS, PRICE FOURPENCE; AND MONTHLY PARTS, PRICE TWO SHILLINGS.

THE principle which has been so extensively applied in Literature and the Graphic Art, of producing works at the lowest possible point of cheapness without any abandonment of the qualities by which the popular knowledge and taste may be advanced, has yet a wide field for its employment in the department of MUSIC. This most delightful of the arts was never so generally cultivated in this country as at the present moment. The Pianoforte, especially, contributes to the recreation and enjoyment of thousands of families throughout the United Kingdom, and in our colonial possessions. And yet the publications by which this taste ought to be kept up and improved are sold at a price which, in many cases, amounts to a prohibition. An article in universal demand is charged at the same rate, if not much higher, than was paid for it when it was sought for only by the luxurious few. The consequence has been that the musical taste of the country has not grown in an exact proportion with the musical appetite. It has been directed, in a great measure, by an interested tutelage; while the real guides, the great classical masters of the art, have been rendered in a remarkable degree inaccessible.

The design of the Musical Library is to afford the same advantage to amateurs in music that the lovers of literature are deriving from the cheap publications for the advancement of real knowledge, that are now distributed through every part of the empire, and are within the reach of persons of every condition. It is proposed to publish a Collection of Music, both vocal and for the piano-forte, by the best masters, ancient and modern: the ancient in a state adapted to the improved condition of our musical instruments; and the modern the best, and only the best, that the continent of Europe and our own country can supply. We shall revive and put into an inviting form the compositions of the older classical masters, now only known to a few connoisseurs, keeping in mind the saying of a famous French modiste,—‘nothing so new as that which is forgotten;’ and thus endeavour to spread widely a taste for what is excellent in the various departments of the art, and available to the purposes of private society. At the same time it will be our further object to naturalise the confessedly good productions of the newest foreign composers, especially of the German masters, by the adaptation of English words to their best vocal compositions; and also by publishing movements, or extracts complete in themselves, from such of their instrumental works as are of a length not suited either to such a publication as ours is intended to be, or to the habits of the people of this country. It is also our design, occasionally, to engage composers of the first eminence to supply us with new compositions; and we shall never neglect an opportunity of giving currency to such productions of real genius as may be offered to us by those who have no means of securing extensive circulation to them, and who might be deterred from publishing them on their own account, from the difficulties they have to encounter, and the number of chances against them of ever obtaining a fair hearing.

In the prosecution of these objects, which we may not unjustly consider likely to advance our national enjoyments, we propose to issue a NUMBER once every week, of eight music-folio Pages, to contain generally one Vocal and one Piano-forte piece at least in each, but depending on the length of the composition. The Price of each Number will be Fourpence.

A PART, containing four or five Numbers of Music, according to the number of Saturdays, will be published monthly. To these numbers will be added a Monthly Supplement of letter-press, comprising musical news, foreign and domestic; notices of new music; critical accounts of the more important public musical performances; with memoirs of the lives, and remarks upon the works, of eminent composers, and especially of the authors whose productions are published in the “Musical Library.” The price of each Monthly Part, consisting of forty-eight folio pages, will be Two Shillings.

Orders are received by all Booksellers, and Wholesale by the Agents of “The Penny Magazine.”

FOOTNOTES:

[1] All, except the first and last paragraphs, from Gerber’s Historisch-Biographisches Lexicon.

[2] In the tenth Number of this work (for October, 1823) we published a lovely quartet from Righini’s Enea nel Lazio. And the present Number contains his overture to Tigrane, which, if the score at all realizes the expectations excited by the piano-forte adaptation, ought to have been familiar to our orchestras long ago.—(Editor.)

[3] In a work entitled Historical Memoirs of Armagh, by J. Stuart, I find a charge against Handel that is stronger than any alleged by Dr. Brown, and which I should feel it improper not to notice before I quit the subject. Mr. Stuart says (p. 548)—‘Some objections may be made to the church music composed by that eminent master, inasmuch as it is sometimes discordant with the meaning of the passages for which it is written. Thus, exempli gratia, in an anthem which comprises the following sentences taken from the Psalmist, the sentiments of David and the music of Handel are both sublime; but the rhythmus of the latter does not correspond with the emphasis necessary for the true enunciation of the former:—“Who is the King of Glory? The Lord of Hosts, He is the King of Glory”—in singing this sublime interrogatory and response, the emphasis is unnaturally laid on the verb is; thus: Who is the King of Glory, the Lord of Hosts, He is the King of Glory. As the question and answer are often repeated, the impression made on the mind of the hearer is, that the respondents are warmly maintaining the claim of the Deity to pre-eminence in glory, which the querists seem obstinately to doubt. Thus the music and the sense of the passage are at variance, and the meaning is sacrificed to the sound.’

[4] See musical portion of the present number.

[5] This Air is given in the German work with the critical article, but, if we are entitled to judge from an arrangement, is much over-praised by the writer, in a paragraph which we have omitted.—Editor.

[6] It was no wonder at all that the cannon made a great noise, and broke the glass.

[7] The Chaconne is an ancient, slow dance. M. Ginguené thinks that the word originally was written ciecona, but gives rather a far-fetched reason for this supposition.

[8] The fact is, that his voice which had for years past been much impaired, had now almost entirely deserted him.—Editor.

[9] If they omitted their roulades, it must have been for the purpose of enabling Rubini to introduce his own, for no singer was ever so absurdly prodigal of them as this. And as to his ‘elocutionary style,’ he must have acquired it very recently; he shewed no symptom of it so late as May last.—Editor.

[10] This remark was, probably, aimed at the composer of Der Freischütz, of whom Beethoven was somewhat jealous, rather than at Mozart.—(Editor.)

[11] A few years before his death, Beethoven received Arnold’s edition of Handel’s works in score, as a present from M. Stumpff, the well-known harp-maker, from which period his admiration of that great composer seemed to have no bounds.—(Editor.)

[12] Manu propria, with his own hand.

[13] The same civilizing improvements may also have been the means of giving the swans lessons in singing, a possibility which our correspondent seems to have overlooked.—Editor.

[14] For the conditions, see Harmonicon, &c.

[15] But M. de Camus has talked of the pizzicato of the voice! (page 61) a term never before applied to anything of a musical kind, except stringed instruments, and the exact meaning of which he perhaps had not duly considered.

[16] We shall give this song, with a full piano-forte accompaniment, in our ensuing number. Editor.

[17] Published in 8vo. from the original Manuscript, by André of Offenbach, who vouches for its authenticity, which, in fact, has never been called in doubt.

[18] ‘Asseyez-vous, mai enfans.’—‘Il n’y a pas de quoi, mon seigneur.’

[19] Balfe is of Irish birth, and his history somewhat romantic. While yet a boy he played a violin concerto at a theatrical benefit in London, but without any marked success. To sing, however, was always the object of his ambition; and, not having the means of achieving his purpose in any other way, he actually walked to Italy, that he might have an opportunity of hearing and imitating the great singers of that country. A few years ago he returned, for a short time, to London, when we had an opportunity of hearing him in the great Scena of Assur, from Semiramide, as well as in a rondeau of his own composition, and some other pieces. His voice was then a bass of two octaves compass, from F to F, combining great power, and very considerable facility of execution. If his subsequent improvement has been in equal ratio to the advances he had made when we heard him; if he has realized the prospects which his voice and style then held out,—the United Kingdom may, at no distant period, claim the first bass singer of the day, as she can already boast of having produced the greatest soprano and tenor of their times.

[20] This opera, our readers are well aware, entirely failed in London; it was hissed off the stage! (Editor.)

[21] This was printed some time ago in our work, by consent of the author, who would not allow any other part of the sonata to be republished, fearing that the sale of his Opera VII. would be injured! We give it again, that the sonata may appear in an entire state.

[22] Account of the Commemoration of Handel, page 61.

[23] Ibid.

[24] Present State of Music in Germany, vol. i. p. 346. (1773.)

[25] Ibid.

[26] It was with great difficulty, and only through the most resolute perseverance, that a director of the Philharmonic Society, who had early obtained a copy of this symphony, succeeded in getting it performed at the Philharmonic Concerts.—Editor.

[27] From his Studien in Generalbasse Contrapuncte, &c. See p. 6 of our number for January last.

[28] Those, says the learned Albrechtsberger, who would dive deep into such subtleties, which, he remarks, are now little valued, may consult the second part of the Traité de la Fugue, &c. of Marpurg.

[29]Here the second voice comes in, beginning from the commencement.

[30]The third voice comes in here, beginning from the commencement.

[31] The Author should have used the past tense; Canons are no longer written in this stenographic manner.—Editor.

[32] Among these pamphlets may be mentioned REMARKS UPON CHURCH REFORM, by the Rev. Edw. Burton, Regius Professor of Divinity. LETTERS ON CHURCH REFORM, by the Rev. C. Girdlestone. Principles of Church Reform, by the Rev. Dr. Arnold. A Plan for abolishing Pluralities, by the Rev. G. Townsend, Prebendary of Durham. A few Words on the Episcopal Church and Cathedral Clergy of England, by the Rev. W. L. Bowles. Remarks on the prospective and past Benefits of Cathedral Institutions in the promotion of sound Religious Knowledge, by Edward Bouverie Pusey, Canon of Christ Church. A LETTER to LORD HENLEY, by the Hon. and Rev. A. P. PERCEVAL.

[33] Lord Henley, Plan, p. 17.

[34] At Oxford, these benefits are not merely past and prospective. The three choral schools of Christ Church, St. Mary Magdalen, and New College, are conducted on a liberal and judicious plan, in accordance with the will of the founder. In those of the sister university, every inferior scale of education has been adopted.

[35] Gal. iv. 26.

[36] 2 Heb. viii. 5.

[37] Exod. xv. 20, 21.

[38] Judges v. 1.

[39] Rev. xiv.

[40] Ut vero pueros supradictos habeat capitulum rite institutos, tam morum modestia, quam canendi peritia, vobanus et statuimus, ut unus, qui sit honestæ famæ, vitæ probæ, et cantandi peritus, ipsis pueris choro destinatis, præficiatur magister et rector chori, qui eis docendis et instituendis organis suo tempore pulsandis aliisque ecclesiasticis muniis in choro obeundis studiose vacabit, qui congruam habeat operæ suæ mercedem annuam per capitulum designandam et per dictum receptorem exolvendam.

Prospiciat etiam puerorum salute: quorum et in literis, et in mensa et convictu, educationem et liberalem institutionem illius fidei et industriæ committimus. (Qui si negligens, aut in munere suo fungendo desidiosus, aut in salute puerorum et recta eorum educatione, (ut verbum Dei postulat) minime providus et circumspectus inveniatur, post trinam admonitionem nisi resipuerit ab officiis deponatur et privetur.)

[41] Query, moonlit flowers?

[42] ‘Maria illuminatrix, sine Stella maris.’—Isidor.

[43] Pacchierotti had not yet visited England.

[44] Afterward, Lord Cardigan.

[45] Afterwards Lord Malmsbury.

[46] Printed in an early number of the Harmonicon.

[47] By the way—though it is not common to descend from the artist to his instrument—the piano-forte played on by Mr. Cramer (one of Broadwood’s) was the most powerful and rich-toned we ever heard. Had the alteration in the orchestra anything to do with the effect produced?

[48] We do not forget the song of ‘Mad Tom’ introduced in the first concert, but scarcely feel warranted in considering it a legitimate production of this great composer; indeed, it has never generally been received as such, though not wanting in strong points of resemblance.

[49] The practice of beating time with the bow was introduced into this country by M. Spohr, and he, being a great musician as well as leader, has been, of course, imitated, for we are most industrious imitators of what is foreign: and, in truth, quackery is so much the order of the day, that without a due share of it success is hardly to be hoped for. How many small persons, singers, soi-disant composers, &c., are now-a-days raised to something like importance by grossly open as well as artful and disguised charlatanerie and puffing!—(Editor.)

[50] By the Countess of Tankerville.

[51] Afterwards George the Fourth.

[52] There is some great mistake in this. From the year of the Commemoration it was resolved to enlarge, not contract, the scale, and each succeeding season saw an augmentation, till the number of performers was gradually increased from between 500 and 600, to nearly 1000. (Editor of Harmonicon.)

[53] We cannot understand by what process of reasoning the author of this article would set about to prove that the hero of a lyric drama should have a base in preference to a tenor voice. We admit that he should not on any account be a soprano; that it would be better that he be not an alto; but here our objections cease. (Editor of Harmonicon.)

[54] ‘The reason that moved the king to this act of munificence was a singular one. The parish had chosen him their churchwarden, and he executed the office for two months; but at the end thereof he grew tired of it, as he well might, and presented the parish with that noble instrument which is now in the church.’—Hawkins’s Hist. v. 60.

[55] ‘In the time of the Duke of Somerset’s chancellorship at Cambridge, during the discontents of several members of that university at the rigour of his government and paucity of his patronage, Tudway, himself a malecontent, and joining in the clamour, said, “The chancellor rides us all, without a bit in our mouths.” Nor did the wicked sin of punning quit him even in sickness; for having been dangerously ill of a quinsy, and unable, for some time, to swallow food, the physician who attended him, after long debates and difficulties, at length turning to Mrs. Tudway, said, “Courage Madam! the doctor will get up Mayhill yet—he has been able to swallow some nourishment.” On which he exclaimed, “Don’t mind him, my dear, one swallow does not make a summer.”’—Burney’s Hist. iii. 459 note.

[56] In our next number, we shall give a very clever article from the ‘Westminster Review,’ on the subject of Harmonics, which really leaves nothing more to be said on the subject, and saves us the trouble of analysing the works now before us.

[57] The son of John Christopher Schmidt, Handel’s copyist and managing man. Dr. Burney has given a list of four oratorios composed by Smith, but takes no notice of Gideon, which is not mentioned in either his or Hawkins’s History of Music.

[58] Hawkins’s Hist., v. 407.

[59] Burney’s Hist., iii. 619.

[60] Dr. Philip Hayes was, with the exception of Bright, the Essex miller, the most corpulent man of his time, and his obesity, instead of being the result of good temper, was the cause of rather an irritable disposition; but he was an honourable man, and perfectly master of what is commonly called the theory of music. He died very suddenly in London, in 1797, aged about fifty-eight years, and was interred in St. Paul’s Cathedral, the gentlemen of the King’s Chapel, and the choirs of St. Paul’s and Westminster Abbey, attending the funeral.

[61] From the Restoration in 1660 to the year 1805, but seven persons filled the office of Master of the Children; they were, Captain Henry Cook, Pelham Humphrey, Dr. Blow, Dr. Croft, Bernard Gates, Dr. Nares, and Dr. Ayrton. (Editor.)

[62] These consist of two complete Services, each comprising a Te Deum, Jubilate, Nicene Creed, Kyrie Eleison, Magnificat, and Nunc Dimittis, and several Anthems. (Editor.)

[63] ‘Instructions to my Daughter, for playing on the Enharmonic Guitar, by a Member of the University of Cambridge.’

[64] Agreeing with our correspondent as to the paramount importance of melody, we differ from him most materially on other points. We say this, lest it should be inferred from our silence that our opinion on German music generally, and on that of Handel and Mozart in particular, is in unison with the sentiments Mr. D. Walker has here avowed. If he had only said that the accompaniments to vocal music are too commonly injurious, because almost always played too loud, we should at once have agreed with him.—(Editor.)

[65] In more vulgar minds, the combinations of harmony and the power of the orchestra excite also notions of pomp and majesty, because such minds are more readily excited in this way by noise than by nature and truth; and the same persons would be more delighted by a large picture, or a large palace, than by a small one, however exquisite.

[66] Or, I may add, than the beautiful and simple forms of their letters with those hooks and angles with which Gothic taste has decorated them and made them truly its own.

[67] The words and accompaniments are by John Crosse, Esq. F.S.A. late of Hull; and the whole, in score, appears in our volume for 1825, p. 229.—Editor.

[68] How much good music is to be found in our libraries, that is utterly unknown to the public! It is a curious fact, that an entire opera by Haydn, the full score in his own hand-writing, and which not only has never been performed, but has never been seen, except by very few persons, is now in the possession of a gentleman in London! It was composed for the King’s Theatre, but never paid for, therefore never delivered.—Editor.

[69] The composer’s intention is, to bring to mind this consolatory promise, by a musical phrase familiar to all lovers of Handel’s sublime Messiah.

[70] The musical critic in the Examiner makes himself merry with our opinion of RUBINI’s singing. To differ from so profound a judge is, no doubt, a proof of great hardihood, not to say presumption, but our temerity is not without other abettors besides the Spectator; a Sunday print of the very day on which the Examiner is pleased to be jocular, had the boldness to handle the Signor rather roughly; and two, if not three, other papers—not contemptible ones—have been rash enough to hint that he is not quite so perfect a singer as a few French journals and our facetious friend so unhesitatingly assert. Moreover, if the sprightly critic will condescend to consult some of those who have made music the chief study of their lives, and have a due portion of cerebral matter in their craniums, he will find that our opinion is tolerably well backed though certainly it differs much from that entertained by many members of CROCKFORD’s, and by divers lady-singers who are deeply learned in the opera songs of the last dozen years.

[71] We have inadvertently stated this to be from the 4th Grand Concerto.

[72] Treatise on the Construction, Preservation, Repair, and Improvement of the Violin, and all Bow-Instruments, together with a Dissertation on the most eminent Makers, pointing out the surest marks by which a genuine Instrument may be distinguished, by Jacob Augustus Otto, Instrument Maker at the Court of the Arch-Duke of Weimar. Translated from the German, with Notes and Additions, by Thomas Fardely, of Leeds. 66 pages in 8vo. (Longman, Rees, Orme and Co.) 1833.

[73] Repairing a damaged one would have been a more logical expression; but whether the author or his translator is answerable for the phrase, we cannot pretend to say.

[74] What mathematics had to do in the matter, we cannot guess. (Reviewer.)

[75] An amateur of Liverpool.

[76] Of Liverpool.

[77]

J’allai à elle dans la prairie

Avec la vielle et l’archet.

[78] The melody of this is founded, the composer tells us in a note, on the chimes of St. Mary’s clock, at Cambridge, which are as follows:—

LISTEN

This tune was invented by the Rev. Dr. Jowett; and the drolls of the University, from the moment or its birth, called it Jowett’s jig.—Editor.

[79] Since the above was set up, we have discovered that this is not a new composition, though it may have been newly published. It is now too late conveniently to take out the article.—(Editor.)

[80] Master Frederick Arthur Gore Ouseley, son of the Right Honourable Sir Gore Ouseley.

[81] He is, however, still living.

[82] In his Præceptiones Musices Poeticæ: see Ravenscroft’s Brief Discourse, 1614, p. 1.

[83] Memoirs of Dr. W. Hayes, Dr. Arne, Lord Mornington, Dr. Cooke, Dr. Nares, and Dr. Callcott, will be found dispersed throughout the eleven volumes of the Harmonicon.

[84] In a memoir of Mr. Spofforth, written by a friend, and prefixed to a collection of his glees now publishing, it is stated that he became actually organist of Lincoln Cathedral, an error which the author will doubtless be happy to rectify.

[85] Outre-meuse, at Liége.

[86] Orlando di Lasso, as the Italians and English call him.—Editor.

[87] A circumstance which had escaped our recollection when we stated this to be the first attempt since Dr. Cooke’s.

[88] Zelter was brought up as a builder. It may be interesting to mention, that Felix Mendelssohn was his pupil. Goethe speaks of ‘the incredible talent of Zelter’s most astonishing pupil.’ This was written when Mr. Mendelssohn was a child.—Translator.

[89] ‘Charles Sackville, eldest son of Lionel, Duke of Dorset, a Lord of the Treasury,’ (in 1746).

[90] ‘Sapperment’ is a very common and rather homely German exclamation of sudden surprise, scarcely susceptible of translation, but somewhat similar to the English word ‘zounds.’ The Germans, moreover, as Mr. Russell correctly states in his Travels, observe a regular degree of decimal gradation in the use of their ‘Sapperment;’ viz.—Sapperment (simply) 1 Sap, Hundert Sapperment, 100 ditto. Tausend Sapperment, 1,000 ditto. Hundert Tausend Sapperment, 100,000 ditto: which latter term, as may be supposed, is only applicable to a state of amazement a hundred thousand times greater than what would be expressed by the simple exclamation of ‘Sapperment.’ The Germans are a calculating people, even in their oaths.

Symphony	HAYDN.
Chorus, Mrs. Moralt, Miss Hughes, Messrs. P. A. Corri, C. Smith, &c. ‘Placido è il mar’	MOZART.
Quintetto, Two Violins, Viola, and Two Violoncellos, Messrs. Salomon, Cudmore, Sherrington, Lindley, and C. Ashley	BOCCHERINI.
Chaconne, Jomelli; and March	HAYDN.
Leader, Mr. SALOMON.—Piano-forte, Mr. CLEMENTI.

Symphony	BEETHOVEN.
Sestetto, Miss Hughes, Mrs. Moralt, Miss Bolton, Messrs. P. A. Corri, C. Smith, and Naldi, ‘Sola, sola’	MOZART.
Concertante, Violin, Tenor, Oboe, and Violoncello Obligati, Messrs. F. Cramer, Sherrington, Griesbach, and Lindley	BACH.
Finale, Zaira	WINTER.
Leader, Mr. F. CRAMER.—Piano-forte, Mr. CRAMER.

Symphony, Jupiter	MOZART.
Quartett, Mrs. Moralt, Messrs. P. A. Corri, Hobbes, and C. Smith, ‘Dorina mia carina’	SARTI.
Quintett, Two Violins, Two Tenors, and Bass, Messrs. Vaccari, Watts, Spagnoletti, Mountain, and Lindley	ROMBERG.
Finale, Tamerlane	WINTER.
Leader, Mr. SPAGNOLETTI.—Piano-forte, Mr. CLEMENTI.

Symphony	CLEMENTI.
Terzetto, Mrs. Moralt, Miss Rovedino, and Mr. Ledesma, ‘Tu mi dividi’	BACH.
Concertante, Violin, Violoncello, Oboe, and Bassoon Obligati, Messrs. Salomon, Lindley, Griesbach, and Holmes	HAYDN.
Finale, Anacreon	CHERUBINI.
Leader, Mr. SALOMON.—Piano-forte, Mr. CRAMER.

Overture, Demophoon	CHERUBINI.
Quartett, Mrs. Moralt, Messrs. C. Evans, Ledesma, and C. Smith, ‘Benedictus’	MOZART.
Quartetto, Two Violins, Tenor, and Violoncello, Messrs. Viotti, Vaccari, Spagnoletti, and Crouch	VIOTTI.
Overture, Double Orchestra	BACH.

Overture, Anacreon	CHERUBINI.
Quartetto, Two Violins, Viola, and Violoncello, Messrs. F. Cramer, Moralt, Sherrington, and Lindley	MOZART.
Quartetto and Chorus, ‘Nell’ orror,’ Mrs. Moralt, Messrs. Hawes, P. A. Corri, and Kellner	SACCHINI.
Serenade, Wind Instruments, Messrs. Mahon, Oliver, Holmes, Tully, and the Petrides	MOZART.
Symphony	BEETHOVEN.

Overture, Zauberflöte	MOZART.
Trio, Miss Hughes, Mrs. Moralt, and Mr. Kellner	SALIERI.
Quartetto, Two Violins, Tenor, and Violoncello, Messrs. Salomon, Mori, H. Gattie, and Lindley	HAYDN.
Notturno, Wind Instruments, Messrs. Mahon, Oliver, Griesbach, M. Sharp, Petrides, Holmes, and Tully	MOZART.
Symphony	HAYDN.

Overture, Les Deux Journées	CHERUBINI.
Septuor, Violin, Tenor, Violoncello, Double Bass, Horn, Clarinet, and Bassoon, Messrs. Spagnoletti, Vaccari, Lindley, Hill, Petrides, Cramer, Holmes	BEETHOVEN.
Quartett, Miss Hughes, Messrs. Hawes, Hobbes, and Kellner, ‘Benedictus’	HAYDN.
Symphony	PLEYEL.

Overture, Numa Pompilius	PAER.
Quintett, Two Violins, Two Tenors, and Violoncello, Messrs. Bridgtower, F. Cramer, Moralt, H. Gattie, and Lindley	BEETHOVEN.
Terzetto, Mrs. Moralt, Messrs. Braham and Naldi, ‘Che ascoltai’	CHERUBINI.
Quintett, Piano-forte, Violin, Tenor, Violoncello, and Double Bass, Messrs. Neate, Salomon, Watts, Lindley, and Hill	DUSSEK.
Symphony	MOZART.

Symphony	HAYDN.
Quartett, Mrs. Moralt, Messrs. Ledesma, C. Smith, and Naldi, ‘Cara da voi’	CHERUBINI.
Quartetto, Two Violins, Tenor, and Violoncello, Messrs. Spagnoletti, Mori, Vaccari, and Neate	BEETHOVEN.
Finale, Iphigenie in Aulide	GLUCK.
Leader, Mr. VIOTTI.—Piano-forte, Mr. CLEMENTI.

Overture, Lodoiska		CHERUBINI.
Quartetto, Two Violins, Tenor, and Violoncello, Messrs. F. Cramer, Bridgtower, Moralt, and Lindley		MOZART.
Terzetto, Mrs. Ash, Messrs. Rosquellas, and C. Smith, ‘Parte vanne’		CARUSO.
Full Piece, Piano-forte, Flute, Oboes, Clarinets, Horns, and Bassoons Obligati, Messrs. Cramer, Ashe, F. Griesbach, M. Sharp, Mahon, Oliver, Petrides, Holmes, and Tully		CRAMER and MOZART.
Symphony		A. ROMBERG.

Symphony	WOELFL.
Quartetto, Mrs. Vaughan, Messrs. Evans, Vaughan, and Kellner, ‘Lo! Star-led Chiefs’	CROTCH.
Quartett, Messrs. Yaniewicz, Watts, Spagnoletti, and Lindley	HAYDN.
Finale, Men of Prometheus	BEETHOVEN.
Leader, Mr. F. CRAMER.—Piano-forte, Mr. CRAMER.

Overture, Creation		HAYDN.
Introduction and Chorus, ‘The heavens are telling’		HAYDN.
Quartetto, Piano-forte, Violin, Tenor, and Violoncello, Messrs. Berger, Yaniewicz, Watts, and Neate		BEETHOVEN.
Symphony		CLEMENTI.

Symphony (No. 10)	HAYDN.
Terzetto, Mad. Storace, Mrs. Ashe, and Mr. Braham, ‘O dolce e caro istante’	CIMAROSA.
Quartetto, Two Violins, Tenor, and Violoncello, Messrs. Yaniewicz, Gattie, Moralt, and Lindley	BEETHOVEN.
Finale, L’Hôtellerie Portugaise	CHERUBINI.
Leader, Mr. YANIEWICZ—Piano-forte, Mr. CLEMENTI.

Overture, La Chasse, Jeune Henri	MEHUL.
Quartetto, Mrs. Bianchi Lacy, Miss Hughes, Mrs. Moralt, and Mr. Ledesma, ‘Andrò Ramingo’	MOZART.
Quartetto, Two Violins, Tenor, and Violoncello, Messrs. Vaccari, Watts, Moralt, and Lindley	ROMBERG.
Symphony	BEETHOVEN.

Symphony	MOZART.
Terzetto, Mrs. Moralt, Mrs. Bianchi Lacy, and Mr. Ledesma, ‘Pria di partir’	MOZART.
Quartetto, Two Violins, Tenor, and Violoncello, Messrs. Salomon, Watts, W. Griesbach, and Lindley	HAYDN.
Finale, Elvira	CHERUBINI.
Leader, Mr. VACCARI.—Piano-forte, Mr. CRAMER.

1.	Sestetto and Chorus, Ode to St. Cecilia. (Miss C. Novello, Master Howe, Messrs. Terrail, Bennett, Turle, and Sale)	WEBBE.
2.	Duet, ‘In this glad Season.’ (The Seasons.) Mrs. G. Wood and Mrs. Hobbs	HAYDN.
3.	Trio, ‘Sicut locutus est.’ (Miss C. Novello, Hawkins, and Bellamy)	FENOGLIO.
4.	Air, ‘Lascia Amor.’ (Orlando.) Mr. Phillips	HANDEL.
5.	Madrigal, ‘All creatures now.’ (1601.)	J. BENET.
6.	Offertorium, ‘Alma Virgo!’ (Mrs. Bishop and Chorus)	HUMMEL.
7.	Glee, ‘In this fair vale.’ (Masters Howe and Hopkins, Messrs. Bennett, Parry, and Chapman)	ATTWOOD.
8.	Quintet, Piano-forte, Oboe, Clarinet, Bassoon, and Horn. (Mrs. Anderson, G. Cooke, Willman, Mackintosh, and Platt)	BEETHOVEN.

9.	Chorus, ‘Hark! hark!’ (The Seasons.)	HAYDN.
10.	Selection from a Mass (No. 1)	MOZART.
11.	Cantata, ‘Mad Tom.’ (Mr. Braham)	PURCELL.
12.	Glee, ‘Deh! Dove.’ (Miss George, Terrail, Hobbs, and Sale)	DR. COOKE.
13.	Song, ‘My ain fire-side.’ (Mr. Broadhurst).
14.	Serenade, ‘Sleep, gentle Lady!’ (Hawkins, Hobbs, Fitzwilliam, and Chapman)	BISHOP.
15.	Terzetto, ‘Tremate, empi tremate.’ (Miss Novello, Braham, and Philips)	BEETHOVEN.
16.	Catch, ‘Would you know.’ (Horncastle, C. Taylor, Fitzwilliam, and Bellamy)	WEBBE.
17.	Chorus, ‘To Rome’s immortal hero.’ (Tito.)	MOZART.

1.	Anthem, ‘Behold how good and joyful’	BATTISHILL.
2.	Glee, ‘Mine be a cot.’ (Hawkins, Hobbs, Bennett, and Bellamy)	HORSLEY.
3.	Cantata, ‘The Ghost of Carril.’ (Braham)	PERCY.
4.	Glee, ‘Oh! how I long my careless limbs.’ (Mrs. G. Wood, Master Howe, Turle, Hobbs, Bellamy, and Sale)	Sir J. L. ROGERS.
5.	Madrigal, ‘Sweet honey-sucking bees!’ (1609)	WILBYE.
6.	Scena, from the Opera of Faust. (Horncastle.)	SPOHR.
7.	Quintet, ‘Domine Deus’	CLARI.
7.	Chorus, ‘Cum Sancto Spiritus’	CLARI.
8.	Glee, ‘There is beauty on the mountain.’ (Miss C. Novello, Messrs. King, Horncastle, and Parry)	GOSS.
10.	Concertante, Flute, Oboe, Clarinet, Bassoon, Horn, Trumpet, and Double-Bass	CHEV. NEUKOMM.

11.	Glee, (accomp.) ‘Fill, fill me, boy.’ (Hawkins, Horncastle, and Phillips)	T. COOKE.
12.	Song, (with accompaniments) ‘Peaceful night.’ (Mr. Parry)	BISHOP.
13.	Glee, ‘Wanton gales’ (Hawkins, Hobbs, Horncastle, and Sale)	WEBBE.
14.	Duetto, ‘Dolce dell’ anima.’ (Braham and Phillips)	PAER.
15.	Madrigal, ‘Lo! where with flowery head.’ (1610)	MORLEY.
16.	Quintetto, ‘Perchè mentir.’ Die Zauberflöte. (Mrs. Bishop, Mrs. G. Wood, Miss C. Novello, Braham, and Taylor)	MOZART.
17.	Song, ‘Non preventur.’ (Miss George.) Die Zauberflöte	MOZART.
18.	Catch, ‘Ah! how Sophia.’ (Hobbs, C. Taylor, and Fitzwilliam)	DR. CALCOTT.
19.	Chorus, ‘The tiger couches.’ The Maniac	BISHOP.

1.	Chorus, ‘Kyrie Eleison! Christe Eleison!’	LEO.
2.	Glee, ‘O snatch me swift.’ (Miss Masson, Terrail, Vaughan, Bellamy, and Atkins)	DR. CALLCOTT.
3.	Quartett and Chorus, ‘Vergin’ Madre sconsolata.’ (Miss C. Novello, Spencer, Vaughan, and Bellamy)	HAYDN.
4.	Song, ‘Oppress’d with grief.’ (Mr Vaughan)	BEETHOVEN.
5.	Madrigal, ‘Die not, fond man.’ (1608)	J. WARD.
6.	Solo and Quartett, ‘Mater amabilis!’ (Miss C. Novello, King, Vaughan, and Atkins)	MOZART.
7.	Song, ‘Despair.’ (Mr. E. Taylor.) MS.	E. TAYLOR.
8.	Glee, ‘A blossom wreath.’ (Master Howe, Terrail, Hobbs, and Chapman)	CLIFTON.
9.	Chorus, the Vintagers’ chorus from The Seasons	HAYDN.
10.	Concertante, Clarinet. (Mr. Willman)	C. M. VON WEBER.

11.	Mass, No. 1, ‘Gloria in excelsis Deo!’	HUMMEL.
12.	Cantata, ‘Ch’io mi scordi.’ (Miss Masson)	MOZART.
13.	Glee, ‘I wish to tune.’ (Messrs. Hawkins, Horncastle, Bennett, and Chapman)	WALMISLEY.
14.	Duetto, ‘Fra gli Amplessi.’ Così fan Tutti, (Miss Masson and Mr. Bennett)	MOZART.
15.	Quartett, ‘What phrase, sad and soft.’ The Noble Outlaw. (Mrs. G. Wood, Miss George, Broadhurst, and Hobbs)	BISHOP.
16.	Song, ‘The Sea Rover.’ (Mr. Bennett)	CHEV. NEUKOMM.
17.	Madrigal, ‘In pride of May.’ (1608)	WEELKES.
18.	Terzetto, ‘Lei faccio.’ Il Matrimonio Segreto. (Misses Celia and Clara Novello, and Miss Masson)	CIMAROSA.
19.	Chorus, ‘Now tramp.’ Knight of Snowdon.	BISHOP.

1.	Quartetto e Coro. ‘Quando o Rè.’ Salmo 19. (Goulden, Vaughan, Blackbourn, and E. Taylor,) with a Solo by Mrs. George Wood	MARCELLO.
2.	Glee, ‘Come, bounteous May.’ (Messrs. Goulden, King, C. Taylor, Parry, jun., and Chapman)	SPOFFORTH.
3.	Scena, ‘Lasciate!’ (Miss Masson.) Teseo.	HANDEL.
4.	Madrigal, ‘Stay, Corydon.’ (1609.)	WILBYE.
5.	Trio, ‘Speak, I command thee.’ Katherine. (Miss Masson, Bennett, and Parry, jun.)	LD. BURGHERSH.
6.	Cantata, ‘Adelaida.’ (Mr. Horncastle)	BEETHOVEN.
7.	Trio, ‘Surgamus, eamus.’ (Hawkins, Horncastle, and E. Taylor)	CARISSIMI.
8.	Glee, ‘When winds breathe soft.’ (Master Howe, Hawkins, Vaughan, Hobbs and Sale)	WEBBE.
9.	Ottetto for Wind Instruments.	MOZART.

10.	Chorus, ‘Glory to God.’	BEETHOVEN.
11.	Glee from Oberon. (Miss C. Novello, Spencer, Hobbs, and Atkins)	STEVENS.
12.	Aria, ‘Parto, ma tu ben mio.’ (Miss C. Novello)	MOZART.
13.	Madrigal, ‘Lady, when I behold.’ (1598)	WILBYE.
14.	Song, ‘Forget me not.’ (Mr. Hobbs)	MOZART.
15.	Glee, ‘Where the bee sucks.’ (Masters Howe and Hopkins, Vaughan, and Sale)	ARNE & JACKSON.
16.	Quartetto from Il Matrimonio Segreto. (Misses C. Novello and George; Miss Masson and E. Taylor)	CIMAROSA.
17.	Scena from The Seasons. (Mr. Horncastle, Mrs. G. Wood, and Chorus)	HAYDN.
18.	Glee, ‘A cup of wine.’ (Goulden, Bennett, C. Taylor, Parry, jun., and Chorus.)	BISHOP.

For	Italian opera		£	38,583	18	6
	French do.			3,522	10	0
	German do.			10,555	12	0
	Miscellaneous			2,227	19	4
		Total		54,929	19	11

THE HARMONICON.

CONTENTS.

MEMOIR OF VINCENZO RIGHINI[1].

FALLACIES OF SOME WRITERS ON MUSIC.

MR. G. LINLEY’S ANSWER TO MR. GÖDBÉ.

MEMOIRS OF THE METROPOLITAN CONCERTS.

A THEORETICAL WORK BY BEETHOVEN.

THE NEW GERMAN OPERA OF FORTUNATUS.

M. MOSCHELES AT LEIPZIG.

REVIEW OF NEW MUSIC.

SACRED MUSIC.

PIANO FORTE.

ROBERT LE DIABLE.

VOCAL.—DRAMATIC.

FLUTE AND PIANO-FORTE.

FLUTE.

EXTRACTS FROM THE DIARY OF A DILETTANTE.

FOREIGN MUSICAL REPORT.

VIENNA.

BERLIN.

LEIPZIG.

KÖNIGSBERG.

WARSAW.

BRESLAU.

LEGHORN.

PARIS.

THE DRAMA.

DRURY LANE THEATRE.

COVENT-GARDEN THEATRE.

THE MUSIC OF THE PRESENT NUMBER.

MEMOIRS OF GARCIA AND RUBINI.

RUBINI.

CHARACTERISTIC TRAITS AND ANECDOTES OF BEETHOVEN.

SONG OF THE SWAN.

ON THE STATE OF OUR THEATRES, CHIEFLY AS RELATES TO THE OPERA DEPARTMENT.

ON SOME COMPOSITIONS OF HANDEL.

GRESHAM PRIZE MEDAL FOR 1832.

THE MANCHESTER GENTLEMEN’S GLEE CLUB.

OBITUARY.

REVIEW OF NEW MUSIC.

PIANO-FORTE.

DUETS, PIANO-FORTE.

VOCAL.

VOCAL SOCIETY

EXTRACTS FROM THE DIARY OF A DILETTANTE.

FOREIGN MUSICAL REPORT.

VIENNA.

BERLIN.

DRESDEN.

MUNICH.

STUTTGART.

PESTH.

MILAN.

ROME.

BOLOGNA.

TURIN.

NAPLES.

CONSTANTINOPLE.

NOVARA.

DOUAY.

BERGAMO.

PARIS.

THE DRAMA.

THE MUSIC OF THE PRESENT NUMBER.

MEMOIR OF C. F. ZELTER.

ON BEETHOVEN’S OPINION OF CONTEMPORARY COMPOSERS.

ON CANON, BY L. VAN BEETHOVEN[27].

THE ECCLESIASTICAL CHOIRS OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND.

No. VI.—ARMAGH, IRELAND.

CANTERBURY.

MEMOIRS OF DR. BURNEY,

VOCAL SOCIETY.

LORD HENLEY AND THE CATHEDRAL SERVICE.

THE SONG OF ‘MAD TOM OF BEDLAM.’

REVIEW OF NEW MUSIC.

PIANO-FORTE.

VOCAL.

HARP AND PIANO-FORTE.

HARP.

BIRMINGHAM MUSICAL FESTIVAL.

THE
HARMONICON.

MEMOIR OF VINCENZO RIGHINI [1].

ON CANON, BY L. VAN BEETHOVEN [27].

For	French and Italian opera		17,660	9	9
	German do.		6,358	1	0
	Ballet		8,269	19	3
	Orchestra		6,448	0	2
	Rent		16,050	0	0
	Miscellaneous		11,470	0	4
		Total	66,256	0	0

1.	Quartet, ‘When the ears heard,’ (Mrs. Knyvett, Terrail, Vaughan and Sale.) Chorus, ‘She delivered the poor.’ Funeral Anthem.	HANDEL.
2.	Madrigal, ‘Lady, when I behold’	WILBYE.
3.	Song, ‘Lascia Amor,’ (Mr. Phillips.) Orlando.	HANDEL.
4.	Chorus, ‘Righteous Heaven.’ Susanna.	HANDEL.
5.	Song, ‘Lord! to thee,’ (Miss Masson.) Theodore.	HANDEL.
6.	Concerto, (First Grand.)	HANDEL.
7.	Glee, ‘Once upon my cheek,’ (Miss Stephens, Mrs. Knyvett, Vaughan, and Sale.)	CALCOTT.
8.	Song, ‘There the brisk sparkling,’ (Mrs. Knyvett.) Choice of Hercules	HANDEL.
9.	Coronation Anthem, ‘Zadok the priest’	HANDEL.

10.	Overture, Iphigenia	GLUCK.
11.	Recit, ‘To Heaven’s Almighty King,’ (Mr. Braham) Air, ‘O liberty.’ Judas Maccabeus	HANDEL.
12.	Chorus, ‘For this God.’ Quartet and Chorus, ‘And he will be.’ (Mrs. Knyvett, Terrail, Vaughan, and Phillips)	MARCELLO.
13.	Recit. ‘Alas! I find,’ (Miss Stephens.) Song, ‘If guiltless blood.’ Susanna	HANDEL.
14.	Duet, ‘Alma mia!’ (Vaughan and Phillips) Admetus	HANDEL.
15.	Madrigal, ‘Sweet honey-sucking bees’	WILBYE.
16.	Recit, ‘He measured the waters,’ (Mr. Machin.) Air, ‘He layeth the beams.’ Redemption	HANDEL.
17.	Chorus, ‘O, praise the Lord’	LEO.

1.	Overture. Chorus, ‘How excellent thy name.’ Saul	HANDEL.
2.	Song, ‘O Lord! have mercy,’ (Mr. Parry)	PERGOLESI.
3.	Madrigal, ‘Die not, fond man’	WARD.
4.	Song, ‘Non vi turbate.’ (Mrs. Bishop.) Chorus, ‘Dal lieto Soggiorno.’ Alceste	GLUCK.
5.	Recit. ‘Bless’d be the Lord,’ (Mrs. Knyvett.) Song, ‘What though I trace.’ Solomon	HANDEL.
6.	Chorus, ‘Credo in unum Deum.’ Quartet, ‘Et incarnatus est,’ (Mrs. Bishop, Terrail, Sale, and Donzelli.) Chorus, ‘Et resurrexit’	MOZART.

7.	Overture. Zauberflöte	MOZART.
8.	Recit. ‘And God created man.’ Creation. Air, ‘In native worth,’ (Mr. Bennett)	HAYDN.
9.	Madrigal, ‘Stay, Corydon’	WILBYE.
10.	Recit. ‘Lasciate!’ (Miss Masson.) Aria, ‘Morirò! ma vendicata.’ Teseo	HANDEL.
11.	Chorus, ‘Regina cœli, lætare’	MOZART.
12.	Glee, ‘Blow, blow, thou winter wind,’ (Mrs. Knyvett, Terrail, Horncastle, and Bellamy)	STEVENS.
13.	Duet, ‘The Lord is a man of war.’ Israel in Egypt. (Mr. Phillips and Mr. Machin)	HANDEL.
14.	Recit. ‘Ah perfida.’ Aria, ‘Và dal furor,’ (Signor Donzelli)	JOMELLI.
15.	Chorus, ‘The Gods, who chosen.’ Athalia	HANDEL.

	‘God Save the King.’
1.	Overture, Occasional Oratorio	HANDEL.
2.	Recit. ‘It must be so,’ (Mr. Phillips.) Song, ‘Pour forth no more.’ Chorus, ‘No more to Ammon’s God.’ Jephtha	HANDEL.
3.	Recit. ‘Ye verdant plains,’ (Mrs. Knyvett.) Song, ‘Hush, ye pretty.’ Acis and Galatea	HANDEL.
4.	Madrigal, ‘When Thoralis delights’	WEELKS.
5.	Concerto in G minor	MARTINI.
6.	Song, ‘Odi grand’ ombra’	DE MAJO.
7.	Sextet, ‘Dominus a dextris,’ (Miss Clara Novello, Mrs. Knyvett, Terrail, Vaughan, Sale, and Phillips.) Chorus. ‘Gloria Patri’	PERGOLESI.

8.	Overture, La Clemenza di Tito		MOZART.
9.	Chorus, ‘He gave them hailstones’	Israel in Egypt	HANDEL.
10.	Chorus, ‘He sent a thick darkness’
11.	Chorus, ‘He smote all the first born’
12.	Chorus, ‘But as for his people’
13.	Chorus, ‘He rebuked the Red Sea’
14.	Chorus, ‘He led them through’
15.	Chorus, ‘But the waters overwhelmed’
16.	Duet, ‘Cantando un. Di sedea,’ (Miss C. Novello and Mrs. Knyvett)		CLARI.
17.	Glee, ‘Thy voice, O! Harmony,’ (Mrs. Knyvett, Terrail, Vaughan and Bellamy)		WEBBE.
18.	Song, ‘Agnus Dei,’ (Mrs. Knyvett)		MOZART.
19.	Chorus, ‘Hallelujah,’ Messiah		HANDEL.

Sinfonia in E flat	MOZART.
Aria, Mr. Phillips, ‘Lascia Amor.’ (Orlando)	HANDEL.
Concerto, Clarinet, Mr. Willman	SPOHR.
Aria, Signor Donzelli, ‘Pria che spunti.’ (Il Matrimonio Segreto)	CIMAROSA.
Overture, Oberon	C. M. von WEBER.

Sinfonia, No. XI.	HAYDN.
Aria, Mrs. Wood, ‘Ah che i giorni.’ (Der Alchymist)	SPOHR.
Quintetto, two Violins, two Violas, and Violoncello, Messrs. Mori, Watts, Moralt, Seymour, and Lindley	BEETHOVEN.
Duetto, Mrs. Wood and Mr. Phillips, ‘Come frenar.’ (La Gazza Ladra)	ROSSINI.
Overture, Demophon	VOGEL.
Leader, Mr. Spagnoletti.—Conductor, Mr. Cramer.

Sinfonia, No. I.	SPOHR.
Recit. ed Aria, Miss Masson, ‘Morirò! ma vendicata.’ (Teseo)	HANDEL.
Quintetto, MS. (composed expressly for these Concerts, and first time of performance) Piano-forte, Violin, Viola, Violoncello, and Contra Basso, Messrs. Cramer, F. Cramer, Moralt, Lindley, and Dragonetti	CRAMER.
Duetto, Miss Masson and Mr. Horncastle, ‘Bella Ninfa.’ (Jessonda)	SPOHR.
Overture, Euryanthe	C. M. von WEBER.