ber it was suspended. I think the subject, however patriotic, is an unwise one, as reviving old sores uselessly; and I said so at the time, and thought the Emperor had acted on my advice, in ordering its withdrawal. Perhaps the piece has been modified and rendered harmless. I trust so.

THE MENTAL HISTORY OF POETRY.*
BY JOSEPH GODDARD.

"To search through all I felt or saw,
The springs of life, the depths of awe,
And reach the law within the law."

Tennyson.

In the early ages of Poetry it is represented as having been recited by bards in celebration of certain gallant deeds of war or chivalry; in honour of chieftains, victors and heroes, or in praise of virtue and beauty. In its latter exemplifications-as the general nature of man rises, as his observation becomes deeper, his intellect clearer, his imagination purer,-Poetry may be observed to be elicited through sensitiveness to less palpable and physically striking, but deeper and purer embodiments of beauty and worth, such as the varied aspects of Nature, illustrations of the personal virtues, the charm with which the mind enrobes youthful or other associations endowed with the deep interest attaching to the grand passes in life's path, the natural and mental halo of loveliness surrounding country and native locality.

may

be

Now emotions aroused with reference to objects of contemplation such as these will always, more or less, tend to partake, and in some phase or other, of a character of admiration. It admiration fraught with a joyful or sad complexion; it may be an ardent and impulsive issue of that feeling, or an emotional current, still and pensive, and calmed into reflection. Yet, whatever be the circumstances that sober or stimulate its course, that brighten it as with the noon-day sun, or that deepen it as with the pensive hue of eve, the emotion arising from the contemplation of the above order of influences will always, in a high degree, be charged with a character of admiration.

Although these observations are here made with particular reference to Poetry, still, so far as they have been carried, they apply equally and fairly to art-phenomena generally, for we have up to this point only considered a certain inward emotional state preceding all external art manifestation. The state of the breast thus described is only the latent preliminary condition for the exemplification of art generally. It is the internal preparation of Nature for the exhibition of art-creation. In the outward expression of this condition is it only where art becomes visible, and where it assumes form and distinctive character.

Doubtless, regarding it from a chronological point of view, Poetry would appear the primeval art, the first feature that the general art-effluence ejected into form, and without departing from the direct path of our inquiry, this truth will in due course be observable.

Reverting to that general principle governing the action of all human demonstrativeness, in circumstances where admiration is the emotion craving expression, which was laid down in our general definition of Art-that the first spontaneous tendency of this emotion will be to conjure up, to reproduce, the original influence, the natural incentive that aroused it, we have now to consider how far this process is visible in Poetry.

Even from a first and general glance it is clearly perceptible that all intelligible forms of moral or physical nature into which the whole field of Poetry resolves itself, are, more or less, æsthetically modified reproductions of objects and influences of general human admiration, be they the moral charms shining through the vista of humanity, or the beauties and splendours of the universe. Even by this brief retrospect we are led to perceive that in Poetry there is a continual reproduction of some influence worthy of admiration; we see that it is, for the most part, in the warmth, vividness and enthusiasm of this feeling, in which it is written, and that its continual aim, tendency and main purpose is the repro

* Continued from page 87.

duction, through description, and all the powers of suggestiveness furnished by language, both that suggestiveness which ensues directly and obviously, and that which works through a deeper and more circuitous labyrinth of the mind-of the original provocative of this emotion.

We may again remark that up to this point our observations, though applied prospectively to Poetry, refer just as directly to all other forms of art, for this reproduction of an original influence of admiration, though tending immediately to the assumption of palpable embodiment, is still the process which produces the form of all art. It is the manner of this reproduction which gives to art its special character and distinctive order. It is the manner of this reproduction in the circumstances of Poetry which immediately constitutes Poetry, and which we shall in the next place consider.

In the old historic warlike eras and ancient chivalric times, when actions, and those not of the most productive or discriminating character, were more in vogue than thoughts, and before music existed even as a moderately developed art, or the scientific knowledge necessary to painting had been gathered, there were still not wanting powerful appeals to the imagination and high incentives of admiration. Much of this mentalorder of influence might have been furnished in the brilliant vicissitudes of war and chivalry, and in the striking and restless circumstances attending religion. The circumstances of the crusade, for example, contained almost an unparallelled combination of elements which, in the phase of human intellect incident to the epoch in question, were even singly calculated, in the highest degree, to influence the above faculties. For here the stern animal-idea of war was chastened and sublimed by that of religion, and both were tinged with the vivid splendour and ideal spirit of chivalry. Neither in those days were there wanting other and softer influences than these, tending, in their very nature, to kindle highly the imagination and invoke to a far action the appreciative instincts of man.

Love is a passion which has left its traces, graven by the red finger of crime, or blooming and fraught with fragrance in the perennial flowers of virtue, in all regions and all times. Although it is a natural emotion, although it is the emotion, it is still an exceptional one; for it is the only single natural emotion that is composed of both personal and abstract feeling-that, whilst glowing in its instinctive warmth, fosters simultaneously almost to its brightest pitch the imaginative fire. Ambition, religion, love of nature or the ideal, are all emotions which are evolved through, and, in fact, which could not exist but for the developing light and warmth of imagination; these, however, are abstract emotions, not ordinary personal and natural feelings, like affection, pity, hope, or joy. But the passion of love unites all the individual earnestness and intense poignancy of the latter emotions with the grandeur, breadth, soaring tendency, expansiveness and nervous spirituality of the former.

At the epoch of which we are speaking also, although the intellect had scarcely penetrated to the perception of any of the philosophical beauties, natural, moral, or scientific, there were still minds not insensible to those displays of devotedness, disinterestedness, self-sacrifice, honour, virtue, affection, faith-those "deeds that shall not pass away"-those rare and mostly hidden, but still living and blooming, flowers of the human plain, which, happily, are never altogether undiscoverable on the fitful track of man.

Amidst all these general, and at the same time powerful, incentives of admiration, and in those natures so formed where it would converge into such a focus as to seek that expression which in the present day would distribute itself over the various demonstrative outlets of art-in these circumstances, and in these times, how was this internal rapture of the mind and heart to assume expressional form-for natures such as those above alluded to must have existed then as now. That inner fertility of nature in man, that appreciative warmth, discriminative keenness, and the original and striking faculty of demonstrativeness incident to genius,-is undoubtedly fraught with the general constitution of man. The laws which produce it are part of the permanent laws of his being, and must have always prevailed. The efficiency, doubtless the very fact of their palpable manifestation, is a matter of circumstance, is materially affected by knowledge

and cultivation in short, is sympathetically related with the general march of the mind. But the original conditions of such a manifestation which exist in the breast, the natural fervour of fancy and imagination, the keen sense of beauty, the susceptibility to grand or delicate impressions, the strong and earnest flow of nervous energy, the broad consciousness of the varied emotional pulsations, all combined with a special endowment, a vigorous faculty of demonstration, may exist totally without reference to any particular mental stage, and must have frequently been developed in the times in question. But, to take up the thread of our inquiry, in natures such as these, whereon beamed all those striking and varied influences of admiration we have enumerated, and in the times of which we speak, how was this high emotional afflatus to attain palpable expression?

The inner principle on which this expression would manifest itself would of course be that which is exemplified in the general tendency of the emotion of admiration to reproduce the influence that created it. But in what particular outward medium would this reproduction be couched; in what æsthetic material would its lineaments be wrought? In colour, sound, or symbolie?

We shall preface the reply to this proposition by entering for a brief space into that difficult question --as to the cause of the different species of genius which arises applicable to the different orders of art. What makes one mind a great and original painter, another a great creative musician, and another a great poet, since the main and general conditions underlying all these endowments are the same? All involve that imaginative scope, susceptibility of impression, fullness of emotional nature and vigorous power of demonstration, mentioned in the last paragraph but one, all are animated by the same strong determination to wreak the state these qualities involve upon expression, and all (with some reservation as regards Music)* consummate this expression in abeyance to the same principle-that of reproducing the immediate outward influence that invoked them to action.

Now all these varied conditions are common conditions of the general order of Art of which we speak-high creative art. The outward varieties of type which arise from these common conditions must, therefore, be caused more by external circumstances than through any inherent divergence in the inner stream of inspiration. The reason then of this variety in the outward forms, put forth from the common burthen of genius, lies in the different forms which the expressional instinct involved by Genius-assumes-through the difference and variety in man's demonstrative faculties. One may possess a faculty of wielding, with peculiar power and facility, all the suggestiveness and resources for effect dwelling in language. Another may be able to bear in his memory, with remarkable and minute distinctness, vivid images of all the forms and effects in Nature. Another may possess that fine aural perception, that retentive aural grasp, that deep gift of realising effects of sound in the mind-all its delicate shades, and all its impressional resources, and thus attain the faculty of conceiving original tonal designs. In each of these cases it will be observed that a chance perfection in some almost purely physical sense, a concurrent excellence in a few of the ordinary and general physical endowments of man, begets alone a distinct art-faculty. In the one case, the art-faculty and gift born purely of excellence in physical endowment, is that of Colour and objective form-the fine visual endowment of receiving and retaining faithful impressions of this order of natural effect begetting the faculty of demonstrating these impressions. In another case, the art-faculty born of material more than mental parentage is that of Language; and, in the remaining instance, it is that of Sound. Now these external circumstances alone are amply sufficient to produce, and without doubt do produce, in the cases of those whom they invest, respective exponents of the different branches of fine art in question. These circumstances alone suffice to make poets, painters, or musicians; but all the art which thus, and thus only, ensues, will be, in the case of Painting, merely imitative art, and with respect to all the orders of art involved generally, mostly but that whose figure is wrought through diversions on the surface of the art-material-as in Music, in simple melody and pleasing superficial effect. And here is the explanation of the remark made at the

*The deviation of Music, in its mental production from this principle, is explained in "The Philosophy of Music."

commencement of this paragraph, that it is high creative art which is in this inquiry generally treated of, for it is only when the possession of the external art-faculties of which we have just been speaking are allied to those deeper and wider moral conditions before specified, whence the exalted phenomenon of creative art ensues. It is only when these essential physical endowments are combined with that grand and rarer general moral susceptibility and intelligence, which we have previously dwelt upon, and described as the primary condition underlying all art, whence can ever issue the spectacle of high creative art-the art which embraces deep thought, which moulds forms out of the shadowy sphere of the abstract, and which grapples with the Infinite. In preparing an answer to the proposition now under consideration of the way in which the art-tendencies of ancient times would most consistently attain expression, it is desirable to consider somewhat further the subject of that external art-endowment which has been already to some extent investigated. It was remarked of all the several outwardly demonstrative artfaculties, that they followed from purely physical antecedents, that they were the results of certain combinations of physical excellence. This being the case, it will now be perceived that they must consequently be amenable to that general influence of progress and development which almost wholly determines the condition of a physical faculty-cultivation. This is particularly the case with reference to those faculties which produce Music and Painting, involving the senses of the eye and the ear respectively. Both of these arts demand a special training and education of those faculties before even the language through which they speak is mastered, and not only a training with respect to the individual, but through long periods of time involving generations. comparatively forcible example of either of these arts, any moderately important specimen assuming to fairly represent them, will always be found to involve an education of the above faculties over a great space of time. Again, these two arts of Painting and Music demand also, in an important degree, that which can only be the result of protracted practice-manual skill. Beyond this there enters largely into a portion of the demonstrative process attending both, that marrow of all knowledge and progressscience; and this is a condition of the availability of these two arts which involves not a particular but a general and high stage of advancement in the human intellect.

Any

But in the case of the art of Poetry, it is apparent that, in the process of this art's assuming expressional form, scarcely any of the many conditions just enumerated with respect to Painting and Music surrounds it. So far as its physical conditions are concerned, it involves and demands but the knowledge and power of language, the wielding of which requires no separate faculty, such as trained eye or ear or manual skill; neither does Poetry demand for any portion of its constitution the embodiment of scientific knowledge.

(To be continued.)

Letters to the Editor.

MISS THIRLWALL.

SIR,-Last week I went to hear the Puritan's Daughter, and having seen the name of Miss Pyne in the advertisements and bills, was grieved to find that our brilliant songstress was suffering from indisposition. Still more grieved was I subsequently to learn that the talented lady had been ill, and not singing for nearly a fortnight. The "kind indulgence" of the audience was therefore claimed for Miss Thirlwall, who both sang and acted the part of Mary Wolf in a manner which showed that she had no need to ask any "indulgence" although her task would have been more grateful if one or two of the ballads had been retained. The management should be proud of a remplaçante capable of sustaining the post of prima donna with such genuine ability. C. H. W.

TWENTY-SIX LETTERS OF JOSEPH HAYDN. THEODOR GEORGE VON KARAJAN, second in rank of the officials in the Imperial Library at Vienna, and one of the most distinguished of Austria's living scholars, has recently published a paper in the Jahrbuch für vaterländische Geschichte, entitled Joseph Haydn in London. It is made up mostly from the well-known authorities, Dies and Griesinger. But not entirely; for several letters, hitherto unknown, written by Haydn from London, have afforded some new materials, and give us new insight into their writer's personal characteristics. The correspondence begins, however, two years before Haydn's visit to London, and affords a valuable addition to our knowledge of his position and condition during those last of his thirty years of service as Prince Esterhazy's chapelmaster. As the prince advanced in years, his annual visit to Vienna appears to have become shorter and shorter, until at length a few weeks in winter was all the opportunity which Haydn had of moving in that musical circle to which Gluck, Mozart, Salieri, and so many other great men belonged, who had been or still were making Vienna the musical capital of Europe a circle in which Haydn could move as loftily and worthily as the best. It is true that for many years Haydn could have found in all Europe no position more to his taste or more to his advantage, in so far as his artistic development was concerned, than that which he held as Prince Esterhazy's chapelmaster in Eisenstadt and Esterhaz (or Estoras, as Haydn writes it). He said, many years after, to Griesinger: "My Prince was satisfied with all my compositions. I received applause as chief of the orchestra; I could try experiments; observe what increased and what weakened the effect; could therefore correct, add to, leave out, weigh. I was cut off from the world; nobody was at hand to lead me to doubt my own judgment and plague me with advice; so I had to become original." "On the other hand," says Karajan, "one can easily perceive that such a life, extending over a period of thirty years, in a small town, and part of the time in a solitary chateau, must at last become insupportable to a man of Haydn's talents." Yes, indeed, after a lapse of twenty-five years, during which the peasant waggonmaker's son had quietly but surely elevated himself to the foremost position in the world as composer of instrumental music; -when his "sound had gone out into all lands;" when the multifarious duties of his office, a pleasure to the young man, had be come a burden to the man of nearly sixty years; when he had already begun to long for rest and leisure to work out still grander ideas than those on which his fame was formed; when the feeling of exile at Esterhaz was made doubly painful by the thought of Mozart and a new generation of musicians in Vienna, and by the sudden and glorious development of operatic, chamber, and orchestral music there, from all of which he was cut off; then, indeed, the spirit of Haydn began to pant for freedom from the thraldom of his official routine; and this finds expression (for the first time in any published documents) in these letters. It must not, however, be thought that Haydn's condition was in any, even the smallest, degree, that of a dependent upon a hard or tyrannical master. It was love for his old prince that enchained him-gratitude for long years of kindness- it was hard that he must so rarely and for such short periods be in Vienna; but to desert his old master, that was impossible! Death at length separated them, and gave Haydn his freedom-nought else could have done it.

Karajan's article, which has also been printed separately, begins with a short description of the large building, hard by the Schottenthor (Scotch gate) on the north side of the city proper, known as the "Schottinhof," as it appeared seventy years ago. In this building, in the second story, lived, at that time, a famous physician, a Dr. Geuzinger. "Here was a place," says Karajan, “where on Sundays men like Joseph and Michael Haydn, Mozart, Dittersdorf, Albrechtsberger, were always welcome to the hospitable table of the doctor-where they played their newest compositions upon the pianoforte to a company of friendly critics-now getting together a quartet, and now producing a symphony-in short, affording enjoyment to a cultivated circle of citizens, which, occasional public performances excepted, as a rule was only to be found in the palaces of the nobles."

Geuzinger had, earlier in life, been physician to Field-marshal the Prince Nicolaus Joseph von Esterhazy, had, in this capacity,

been much in Eisenstadt, and thus acquired an intimacy with Haydn, which ripened into strong and lively friendship. Hence, in later years, whenever Haydn was in Vienna-that is, so long as he continued in the active service of Esterhazy-he was expected to dine every Sunday at Geuzinger's. The Doctor's wife, a Von Kayser by birth, was, at the time this correspondence begins, near her fortieth year (born Nov. 6, 1750), and had been married about seventeen years. They had five children: Josepha (the Peppi of sons, Franz, Peter, and Joseph, of 15, 9 and 7 years. Mad. the correspondence), 16 years of age, and Salvina, 4, and three Geuzinger, a woman of fine culture, was eminently so in music. She read full scores with ease, and arranged them for the pianoforte. That these arrangements were of real value is proved by the request of Haydn, in one of the letters, that she should send him a complete symphony thus arranged for publication in Leipzig.

The letters of Haydn are printed by Karajan, from the originals; those of Mad. Geuzinger from the first drafts, presented by her, with Haydn's. To convey, in an English translation, the odd quaintness of the Austrian-German, which makes many passages in these letters very amusing, is not possible; but in other respects - -save that the high-flying complimentary terms in the addresses and signatures are usually omitted, together with the compliments to the Doctor and others-our translation is as literal as may well be. The customary "Euer Gnaden "-still almost as common as in Haydn's day, especially among the lower classes to all of higher social position, is necessarily translated "Your Grace," although it has not the technical value of the English expression. What are we to do in English with such an address as this, "Hoch und wolhgeborne — hochschätzbahrste, allerbeste Frau v. Geuzinger!" (Literally, "High and well-born Mad. most-highly-treasured, all best Frau von Geuzinger!") beginning thus, or in similar terms, and usually closing with a The reader will then be pleased to imagine each letter of Haydn postscript to this effect: "My most devoted respects to high your Herr Spouse and entire family and the Pater Professor."

now to the letters.

me.

(No. 1.)-MAD. GUEZINGER TO HAYDN.

And

Vienna, June 10, 1789. Most respected Herr von Haydn!-With your kind permission, I take the liqerty of transmitting to you a pianoforte arrangement of the beautiful andante of your composition, which is such a favourite with I have made this arrangement entirely myself, without the least assistance of my master, and I beg you to do me the kindness to correct anything in it which may not meet your approbation. I hope that you find yourself in the best condition, and have no stronger desire than to see you soon in Vienna, that I may give you new proofs of the respect which I cherish for you.-I remain, with sincere friendship, your most obedient servant, MARIA ANNA EDLE VON GEUZinger, Born EDLE VON KAISER.

(No. 2.)-HAYDN TO MAD. Geuzinger.

Estoras, June 14, 1789. High and well-born-gracious Frau!-In all my correspondence up to this time the surprise of having such a beautiful letter and such kind

expressions to read is the most delightful, and still more do I admire that which came with it-the capitally transcribed adagio, which is so know whether your Grace has arranged it from a score, or whether you correct that any publisher might put it to press. I should only like to have been at the astonishing pains of first scoring it yourself from the parts before making the pianoforte arrangement; for in the latter case the compliment is really too flattering, and one that verily I have not deserved. Most excellent and worthy Frau v. Geuzinger, I await but a hint as to how I can do your Grace some sort of service. Meantime I send the adagio back, and confidently hope from your Grace some commands to which my small talents may be adequate, and am, with extraordinary and most distinguished respect, &c.

(To be continued.)

MAYENCE. According to general report, Herr Richard Wagner will ere long fix his permanent residence either here or in Wiesbaden. He wishes, it would appear, to be near the celebrated house of Schott and Sons, who publish his more recent works. The" Musician of the Future" is at present engaged on the composition of a comic opera, to be entitled Hans Sachs. (Query, are not all the operas of Herr Wagner more or less "comic?")

[FEBRUARY 15, 1862

respect all other societies, it might perhaps not be difficult to indicate. Of course, its principal power is to be traced to the gratuitous support it receives from the choral memalone would never have placed it in its present lofty position. The appointment of Mr. Costa to the conductorship gave the Society a prestige it had never before enjoyed. Even more, however, is due to Mr. Robert Bowley, the most energetic and enterprising of "organisers," who, during the whole term of his office, has left nothing undone that could conduce to the advancement and prosperity of the Society.

It is gratifying to know that the Sacred Harmonic Society was never in so flourishing a condition as at this present moment. All true lovers of the grandest kind of music, the Sacred Oratorio, the true musical epic, will be deThe twenty-ninth annual meet

Stalls, 5s.; Balcony, 3s.; Admission, Is.

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

NOTICES.

TO ADVERTISERS.-Advertisers are informed, that for the future the Advertising Agency of THE MUSICAL WORLD is established at the Magazine of MESSRS. DUNCAN DAVISON & Co., 244 Regent Street, corner of Little Argyll Street (First Floor). Advertisements can be received as late as Three o' Clock P.M., on Fridays-but not later. Payment on delivery.

Terms { Two lines and under

Every additional 10 words

...

2s. 6d. 6d. TO PUBLISHERS AND COMPOSERS.-All Music for Review in THE MUSICAL WORLD must henceforward be forwarded to the Editor, care of MESSRS. DUNCAN DAVISON & Co., 244 Regent Street. A List of every Piece sent for Review will appear on the Saturday following in THE MUSICAL WORLD.

TO CONCERT GIVERS.-No Benefit-Concert, or Musical Performance, except of general interest, unless previously Advertised, can be reported in THE MUSICAL WORLD.

The Musical World.

LONDON: SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 1862.

THE

HE Sacred Harmonic Society will have work enough on hand this year. Besides attending to its own immediate affairs, administrative and executive, it will have to devote its best energies to the proceedings of the Great Handel Festival at the Crystal Palace, and to the preparations for the musical inauguration of the forthcoming International Exhibition at Kensington. A wonderful Society, truly, the members of which, at least the majority thereof, being nonprofessional, can exercise so potent an influence and so large a sway! A very Cerberean Society at the present juncture, with three heads on one body! How the Sacred Harmonic Society reached such a height of power, overtopping in that

ing of the Society, held on Tuesday last, at Exeter Hall, John Newman Harrison, Esq., in the chair, informs us that the subscriptions for the current year are larger than for any previous year, excepting 1859. The printed statistics are somewhat confused-show a contradiction indeed. The Report affirms that the receipts for the past year amounted to £5576. 2s. 2d., and that the expenditure was £5501. 12s.lld., "leaving a balance in hand of £495. 14s. 7d.,” a result which by no mode of arithmetical calculation can we possibly arrive at. Perhaps there may be a mistake in the figures. That there is so much balance in hand, however, may be accepted as a fact. In addition to their overplus amount, the Society possesses funded and other property to the value of £7500. The liberality of the Society may be estimated from the fact, that two sums of Prince Consort Memorial, the other to the Hullah Testimoone hundred guineas each have been subscribed, one to the nial Fund, as also a sum of ten guineas for the preservation and repair of an organ in St. Bonifacius's Church at Arnstadt, of which John Sebastian Bach was for some time organist.

These acts require no comment. The musical preparations for the opening of the International Exhibition, with which the Society is now busied, is alluded to at some length in the Report. The orchestra will consist of upwards of eighteen hundred performers, of which five hundred will be selected from provincial societies and choirs. The regular band and chorus of the Sacred Harmonic Society being deducted from the remaining thirteen hundred, will leave about four hundred more choralists (query, Six? the orchestral force of the Society numbering seven hundred) to be chosen from the regular attendants at the Handel Festival Choir meetings. It is not necessary to follow the Report in the sanguine anticipation it indulges in regarding the success of the approaching Handel Commemoration in June at the Crystal Palace; and we have already spoken of the contemplated arrangements and modifications of the Society not only prospers, but is determined to strive for Great Orchestra. Enough has been said to show that the still larger prosperity. The Report, we repeat, is in the highest degree satisfactory, and musicians of every grade, professional and amateuf, must feel gratified at the brighter and brighter prospects which appear to open upon our loftiest

and most disinterested musical institution.

stage in his own country than any one else, except the author of Der Freischütz, whom he sometimes imitated, though without ever equalling. He was born on the 16th August, 1795, at Zittau, in Upper Lusatia. As is the case with nearly all children destined to become celebrated musicians, his vocation soon manifested itself. When he was six years old, he was placed under the care of a master, to be taught the piano; but, at the end of six months, the master was surpassed by the pupil. Two other masters shared the same fate. The fact is, Marschner's father did not possess the means to pay the best that could be got, and which was, no doubt, the dearest. The boy's lessons were, consequently, discontinued for a year.

Young Marschner entered the boys' choir at the Gymnasium, to sing the solos, because he was a good reader, and possessed a pleasing soprano. The then director of the choir was Friedrich Schneider, who had obtained celebrity as a writer of oratorios. Actuated by a desire to learn harmony, Marschner left Zittau and went to Bautzen, the organist of which place had offered him a situation in the choir at the church, with the promise that he should study singing and composition simultaneously. Disappointed in his expectations, the poor boy returned to Zittau; but he had lost his voice, and did not know to whom he should apply to improve himself in that art which was the sole object of his ambition. Thrown upon his own resources, he composed incessantly, and tried his hand on every possible style. A troop of dancers having paid a visit to his native town, he undertook to write them the music for a ballet. The circumstances attending the first rehearsal of his work were something similar to those of the famous concert of J. J. Rousseau, in the house of M. de Treytorens, at Lausanne. Marschner had hidden himself in a corner, to judge of the effect produced by the instrumentation; but he had no idea of the compass of the various instruments. Suddenly the horns were stopped by notes which it was impossible for them to play. It was, at first, supposed that the copyist had made the faults; but, on examination, it was found that they emanated from the author, whose emotion was so great, that he fell ill, and never heard his score performed.

Instructed by his very faults, Marschner subsequently received some good advice from competent persons. At Prague, he met Weber, who then directed the Opera, but was completely absorbed in his duties. His relations with Tomascheck proved more useful to him. As his father wished him to study law, he proceeded to Leipsic, and it was there that Schicht's advice proved of great service in forwarding his education as an artist. Yielding to the vocation which attracted him towards the theatre, he began by setting to music a translation of Metastasio's Titus. In 1816, he composed a short opera, Der Kiffhauser Berg, which was played successfully at several theatres in Austria. The following year, he produced at Dresden Henri IV. und D'Aubigny, an opera in three acts, quickly followed by Saidar, which, also, was in three acts, and played at Presburg. In 1821, he returned to Dresden, where he took up his permanent abode. He wrote the introduction and interludes of The Prince of Homburg, a drama by Tieck, as well as The beautiful Ella and Ali Baba. The last two works were not well received; far from being cast down, however, Marschner felt only more resolved and energetic. He wrote The Wood-Stealer, which he intended for amateurs, but which, thanks to several excellent pieces, made its way from theatre to theatre, and from town to town.

Since 1825, Marschner had been musical-director of the German and Italian Opera, conjointly with Weber and Mor

lacchi. In 1826, he married Mlle. Marianne Wohlbruck, a celebrated singer, whose brother was afterwards his collaborateur, and wrote for him the libretto of The Vampire, one of his three best works. Weber died in June 1826, and, not being able to get appointed his successor, as first musical director at the Dresden Opera-house, Marschner threw up his post, and set out, with his wife, on a lengthened tour. From Berlin, where an attempt was made to keep him, the two proceeded to visit Breslau, Posen, Königsberg, Dantzig, Magdeburg and Brunswick. Madame Marschner having accepted an engagement at the Leipsic Theatre, The Vampire was played there on the 28th March, 1828. "This work," says M. Fétis*, "was crowned with gratifying success. Called on, at the conclusion of the performance, the composer and singers were enthusiastically received. The fame of the opera spread rapidly; such, we are informed, was the eagerness exhibited by the managers of the German theatres to produce it, that the copyists were unable to supply the demands for copies for the score. Many pieces from The Vampire became popular." Last season, M. Pasdeloup had the overture played at one of the concerts of the Société des Jeunes Artistes du Conservatoire, in Paris, when the audience were struck by the analogy it presented in its structure to Weber's chefs-d'œuvre in the same style. The Templar and the Jewess continued what The Vampire had begun so well. Another work, The Falconer's Bride, was performed at Leipsic in 1832.

career.

Marschner was summoned to Hanover as Kapellmeister to the King, and it was there he was destined to terminate his Having received in that city the libretto of Hans Heiling, sent him by Ed. Devrient, he wrote as follows: "Were it possible to compose an opera right off, I should have done so- so much was I surprised by this work, which I conceived instantaneously." Hans Heiling was represented on the 24th of May, 1833, under the direction of the composer. Two other operas, written subsequently, of which one was entitled The Château at the Foot of Mount Etna, were less successful.

When Marschner was forty-four years old, to quote M. Fetis once more, the progress of his talent appears to have stopped. "We cannot," says the learned biographer, "deny him the merit of being one of those successors of Weber who have displayed the greatest amount of dramatic feeling in their works. It is not in serious drama alone that he is successful; we may even assert that he is one among the small number of German composers who do not fall into triviality, when engaged on a comic subject. His melodies are expressive, but his manner is slovenly, and he frequently employs transitions to excess. Despite this criticism, the author of The Vampire, The Templar, and Hans Heiling, will leave no common name in the history of art." Marschner was also known in Germany as a composer of instrumental music by a considerable number of works for the piano. He died at Hanover, on the night of the 14th-15th December, 1861, a year more than usually fatal to public