bar-andante, moderato, allegretto, allegro, and presto was sure to be a gallimanfry. I could never get my first finger far back enough for F. Over and over again for hours, until my arm ached, my violin thumb benumbed, and my fingers inflamed, my head swimming, and the notes before me as Sanscrit-over and over again, I could never transit from the first string to the second without a hideous scratch. I could not take the third E in the bar with the fourth finger, so that my bow kept hopping about as if I were playing a saltarello; and so sure as I got into the second portion, as sure was the music to resemble Wagner's or Berlioz's sans tête ni queue. I can't say how long I kept up this fun, but I soon discovered that it was time to go to bed, for my candle was all but out in a few more minutes I should be in utter darkness. I gobbled down a portion of my supper (bread and a pickled herring), and throwing the rest to Fanny, had just one more try at Kreutzer. It was useless-F F, and when I got over that it was B in the second bar. Disheartened, angry, and with tears in my eyes. I gave a deprecating look to Paginini on the wall, extinguished my light, and threw myself on the bed. Cold as it was, I was in a violent perspiration. The wind was blowing in fitful ruffianly blasts, as if it had a mission that night to frighten people out of the hiccoughs. Bang! it came, and immediately subsided into a low whistle in consecutive fifths. Ten or twenty bars' rest. Bang! bang! again, and off up to the weathercock on the top of the church, and giving him a twitch o' the nose to the east, making him squeal

He was dressed in rusty black, and his clothes were made by contract, I should think; he must have bargained with his tailor that the less they fitted, the more he would pay for them. The collar of his coat was worn on the left side quite shiny. The inside of his left wristband was threadbare; about the middle of his waist, was a spot worn as polished as a looking-glass, as also under the right elbow. His sallow face looked as if it were made of yellow parchment, and made up into a tolerably good imitation of a skull-but an animated skull, for there were in it two eyes that would have scorched up mountains of snow. Eyes that spoke poems! Universe! Infinity! Chaos! Rhabdomancy!.

one look at him convinced me I had

and lay enthralled on my couch as in a fearful nightmare. The note increased to intense sonority. The walls vibrated with it, and threw back echoes in thirds, fifths, and octaves. I heard it as the peal of a powerful organ, and it had the same effect on me as the first church music had, which I heard after the death of a dear relative: it made me weep bitterly. Never until now had I imagined what music there was in one note. The room grew luminous with sound. I saw every object about me as if it were standing in brilliant sunshine; the figure before me was transparent as crystal, and rich colours were chasing one another in it, as on an opal. The brilliant eyes were closed, and the features were playing in smiling yet painful ecstacy. With a suasive legato he glided up to Bb on the same string and intoned an Adagio religioso. Was this music learnt in Paradise? was it a prayer this poor spirit was offering? .... with such pathos, with such agonising beseechfulness? . . . . on my knees I joined in his prayer, and in hysterical sobs repeated some of those words, which caused my heartstrings to tend to snapping. . . . I understood how poor penitents could heap ashes on their head flagellate their loins with knotted cords, and lick the dust from off the ground. I felt my littleness, my weakness, and all the awful sublimity of the Creator, when such a voice could sing so sublimely to Him. My heart was swelling and nigh bursting in my bosom, my brow was throbbing painfully, and I was about to swoon, when the melody broke forth in a Maestoso in the major key, which revived me and gave me hope! arpeggios recalling the minor melody smorzando, gracefully, tenderly, soothingly, gently augmenting, growing, rising and with a brilliant trillo breaking out with the clic-ti-clack of a Tarantella-the first notes half restrained, gradually increasing in 'speed, until, worked up to frenzy, it burst forth as a savage Bacchanalian dance-wildly reeling, voluptuously writhing

Tempo di Tarantella

"With the boom zi zing of the tambourine
And the clack ta clack of the castagnette'

and slentando, perdendosi, suavely into a little pastoral movement
breathing cool breezes, refreshing shady bowers and furtive nooks,
where amoroso some shepherd breathed con anima his love tale: so
sweetly, despairingly and persuasively, that nought but that soft rap-
turous velvety voluptuous melody could have followed .
And he swept over the strings with amazing rapidity—trillando,
the four strings in tutti, staccato, pizzicato, unisoni, soave, sciolto,
presto, prestissimo, furioso e con amore sempre, tempo di ballo, pomposo,
saltarello, smorzando - delirious, soothing, trio, duo, flutes, violins, and
mandolinas linnets and nightingales. I heard all this-he plunged
me down into the deepest depths of hell, where demons howled fear-
fully; he wafted me on high in heaven, where angels whispered
around me. He made me weep; he made me love; he made me
feel tyrannical, charitable, ambitious, drunk, meek, saucy, religious,
serio comic, tragic, melodramatic buffoon. He made me shed tears,
he convulsed me with laughter-when-he suddenly stopped and
looking at my fiddle, exclaimed, "Per Bacco! è cattiva! cattiva!
cattiva! dashed it to the ground, and smashed it to atoms! . .
This was too much of a joke! ... Fanny (who, strange to say, had
remained silent during the whole performance) began barking furiously,
and sprang from the bed, followed by me. The room was pitch dark!
. . . . I struck a light, and, sure enough, there was my vielin on the
ground, with the neck off and otherwise damaged ! I looked
under the bed, in the cupboards and found nobody. The door was
double locked-.
I had had a delicious dream, I had heard
Paginini. The tail-piece of my violin (which was standing on the
mantlepiece) had given way; the instrument had fallen to the ground,
and caused the fracas which awoke me.

The violin was soon mended, and a few days after, Fanny and myself treated the neighbours to the following duo

FAN.

Any key, any time, any number of flats and sharps and ad lib.
Con anima.

nothing but a skeleton before me, and I could not make out where
I had seen this personage before. Well, in walked this tall serious
suffering-looking figure. My violin, which was standing upright on
the mantlepiece, instantly left its place, and flew to his hands. In
its transit I distinctly heard the first string rise from Eb to E, and
the fourth descend from G half sharp to G of themselves. He
quietly put the violin under his left arm, and proceeded to look about
the apartment. He first observed the picture of Paginini over the
mantle piece--and as he stood near it, it struck me the picture was
somewhat like him. After having examined it for several minutes he
gave a slight contemptuous smile, and looking at himself in the look-
ing-glass, passed his hand through his long raven locks with a little
look of fatuity I thought. He next noticed a piece of bread on the
floor, and picking it up, put it carefully upon a plate, mumbling some-
thing sotto voce about Pané and Dio. He was looking at my Kreutzer
with a naïve smile on his face, and playing the first one pizzicato with
his left hand only, when the church clock of the Béguinage began to
strike twelve!
He raised the violin to his chin-his whole body
became distorted his left elbow covered that part of his coat which
I had noticed so much worn-his left hip appeared as an unsightly SELF.
excrescence. His long bony fingers curved nervously over the strings,
and raising his right hand with the bow in it over the violin, at least
a foot from it, he brought it down on the string simultaneously with the
last stroke of the bell-he struck the same note, so precisely and with
such percussion, that the note from the instrument and from the bell
sounded as but one. It was D which he took with the third finger
on the fourth string, in that very position which always puzzled me so
much. The vibrations of the note reached me in about the third of a
second-they rarified the atmosphere around me-I gasped for breath,

"I FEEL, in common with every other Welshman, a warm interest in a
society which, like the present, has for its purpose the honour and pros-
perity of my country; and I shall therefore, before proceeding with
my adjudication on the manuscript submitted to me, beg leave to offer
a few remarks on the position of music as connected with these meetings.
Among other traits in our national character, is the great love for
music, so enthusiastically exhibited by all classes of our countrymen.
Nor can this surprise us if we think how very rich we are in native
melodies. These are so numerous, and yet so full of character, of
energy and musical beauty, that I may safely assert, without exaggera-
tion, that in respect of musical treasures, we are the richest people in
the world, and I wish I could make the same remark on the wealth,
which is of a less poetical nature. To direct attention to our native
melodies, and at the same time to encourage the growth of musical
education, are among the higher purposes which these societies have in
view. Nor must we fail to acknowledge, that whatever our claims may
be to musical progress, we owe it in a great measure to the influence of
meetings like the present. To say that they are still defective, and
require many improvements, is simply to say they are human. They
have already affected much good, and will, I am sure, do still more, in
raising our position as a musical nation. But to do this effectually we
must get out of the circle in which we have so long moved, or otherwise
our proceedings will be an illustration of the Blind leading the blind,'
for musical intentions, unless they are directed by musical knowledge,
are of very little value. Now what is familiarly called a 'musical ear,'
is by itself an unsafe guide, if unassisted by a musical head. If we bear
these things in mind we shall be justified in looking for encouragement
from those who wish Welshmen success, not merely because what they
attempt is Welsh, but rather, because it is really good; and, if we forget
this, we must not be surprised if we are still open to censure. In order
to carry out more successfully the work of musical advancement, we
must endeavour to 'elevate the standard of the musical productions
brought forward at these festivals; if not, we cannot expect to obtain
the notice of the public in general, or to claim the approbation of those,
who, in questions of art, we acknowledge to be authorities. If the
purpose of these societies were merely to afford an opportunity to listen
to some pleasant songs, or to performances on the harp, I should deem
it unnecessary to say a word; but as I believe that these societies have
higher objects in view, and that they are desirous of extending the
knowledge of music in Wales, I consider it my duty, as a Welshman, to
make these observations. Many unjust and illiberal remarks have been
made at the expense of these associations, which, from time to time,
have been favoured with a very considerable amount of wilful misrepre-
sentation. We are told that they only serve to keep alive useless
traditions a language without a literature and music only fitted for
a half-civilised people. The language of Wales requires no defence at
my hands, and I may therefore safely leave it to those who are well able
to take care of it. But the musical portion of these meetings require
another word or two, - we are told, that notwithstanding all the efforts
of these societies, they have as yet failed to produce either a Mozart or
a Beethoven. This may be perfectly true; but then it must also be
borne in mind, that precisely the same remarks may be applied to
England, which with all its vast improvements in every branch of
musical knowledge, and though it has produced many eminent men of
undoubted skill in music, still, to the present moment, England, like
Wales, has not yet given birth to any composer of original genius, since
the days of Purcell, Whatever difference of opinion there may be then
as respects the language of Wales, there can be none as to the excellence
of its national music, which has at all times been a source of admiration,
not to Welshmen alone, but to musicians of every country - and not
only for their intrinsic worth as melodies, but also for the skill with
which they have been constructed; and this seems most marvellous
when we call to mind the remote period in history, when many of them
were produced; a period so remote, that even art itself, according to our
ideas of it, was a thing unknown. Among the many great composers
who have shown their admiration of our Welsh melodies, we may men-
tion the illustrious name of Handel, who has not only admired but
employed them in his own works, of which the introduction of the air
'Codiad yr Haul' is a memorable illustration. Among other causes for
congratulation is the decided improvement in musical knowledge in all
parts of the principality. And this remarkable progress has elicited the
surprise of every one who watches the changes which are hourly taking
place around us, and more especially of those who compare the past
with the present. My excellent friend, the Rev. Chancellor of St. Davids,
in his eloquent address at the last Carmarthen Eisteddfod, calls attention

to this fact. He says: "I hail the growing taste among my countrymen as an auspicious indication of increasing civilisation, and I am old enough (he remarks) to recollect the Eisteddfod, or Bardic Congress, held half a century ago, under the presidency of Dr. Burgess, then Bishop of St. David's; and in no respect is the contrast between that meeting and the present more marked than in the diffusion of musical science in the Principality during the interval that has elapsed since that Eisteddfod, unless it be the immense preponderance of numbers in the attendance this day.' These words are worthy of attention as coming from one not only remarkable for his intellectual claims, but also for his knowledge in things pertaining to musical criticism. This im| provement then in our musical education we unquestionably owe, in a great measure, to the influence of our Eisteddfodau, and in the next place to the excellent musical publications which by their moderate prices have been placed within the range of all classes of our countrymen. I hope that every encouragement will be given to the practice of choral music, and especially of that kind which includes the works of the great masters. England, in this respect, has set us an admirable example, for at this day her choral societies may challenge comparison with any in Europe; and as we possess amongst ourselves so strong a feeling for music, and an ample store of good voices, we may well look forward with hope; and let us anticipate that the efforts of men like Mr. John Thomas, and Mr. Owen, and others, will ere long effect as much for choral music in Wales, as Mr. Henry Leslie and his choir have already done for England. Our own national music is a thing of itself, and dwells as it were in a world of its own. Modern melodies, in every form and variety, are constantly springing up around us, but all these are fleeting shadows-flowers which blossom for the hour, and are soon forgotten. But our own native music seems endowed with eternal youth and beauty, and possesses a charm and a power over which the destroyer of all things, time itself, appears in vain to exercise its baneful influence. Let us then in every way continue to cherish the love of things so endeared to us by every claim of melody, and by associations and traditions which have almost made them sacred in our esteem. And as music must be acknowledged among the many blessings bestowed upon man by the Creator, let us endeavour, by every means at our command, to widen the sphere of its influence, and to take care that the power, of which it is capable, may be properly directed by education for music, unaided by knowledge, is of little value in art. I must apologise for trespassing so long on your time; my excuse must be my subject. For in the matter of Welsh music, I feel every inch, a Welshman-nor am I ashamed to acknowledge, that there is no music in the world which exercises over my thoughts and feelings so wondrous an influence as the melodies of my native land. I have received for arbitration twelve arrangements of Welsh melodies, and amongst them several contain proofs of much musical skill and knowledge of choral effects. The principal errors consist in a mistaken view of the characteristics of the tunes, which are treated for the most part, as though they were serious melodies. The combinations, which would be very effective, and most appropriate in sacred music, are quite out of place in a spirited air like the March of the Men of Harlech.'

"One writer disarms my criticism by signing himself 'Beginner,' and of which I have no reason to doubt the truth. He must not, however, be discouraged if he does not this day succeed in gaining a prize. But I trust when he next sends a composition there will be some attention to the handwriting, for the manuscript before me would almost puzzle the skill of Mr. Nethercliff himself to decipher. The best compositions are those which bear the signatures of Meirion,'' Oliver,' Croft,' and 'Welshman.' The writer who signs himself Onesiphorus' commits the grave error of altering the melody itself, and this, I need scarcely add, is by no means desirable, for a Welsh air neither requires nor admits of improvement. I recollect once seeing in an old volume an edition of the Merry Wives of Windsor, with additions and improvements by the editor; but I do not before remember an instance in which an attempt is made to alter the outline and form of a melody so full of character and tune as the March of the Men of Harlech.' Another mistake is the introduction of harmonies which are tog harsh and chromatic for the melody; and I also see strong proofs of that disposition to employ the ponderous harmonies which so often disfigure choral music it Wales, and especially the music in our places of public worship.

"The author of the arrangement signed 'A Welshman' may be complimented for the knowledge and ingenuity which he exhibits, but the prize for the arrangement of the March of the Men of Harlech' I award to' Meirion.'

"Among the arrangements of the second subject-Nos Galan'-the most meritorious are those signed 'Glandwr' and 'Roger de Lisle;' and to the last-named, ‘Roger de Lisle,' the prize is most justly due.”

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

DIE REDACTION DER NEUEN BERLINER MUSIK-ZEITUNG. We have great pleasure in rectifying a mistake we made in attributing the information on which two articles in Nos. 27 and 29 respectively of Zeitung, instead of to the Neue Berliner Musik-Zeitung. With regard to the other part of the letter from "Die Redaction," it is possible that our correspondent may not have time to attend every musical performance; and such being the fact, he cannot possibly do better than avail himself of the trustworthy reports of our respected contemporary.

the MUSICAL WORLD were founded, to the Niederrheinische Musik

{ Terms TO PUBLISHERS AND COMPOSERS.-All Music for Review in THE MUSICAL WORLD must henceforth 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.

A

The Musical World.

LONDON: SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 1862.

GENTLEMAN, who some years ago held no undistinguished place among modern popular ballad writers, a few days since sent a MS. song to a well-known music publisher, soliciting its purchase, and received the following answer by return of post:-" Sir,―There is no use of my inspecting your composition, as you tell me it is of the sentimental kind. Indeed, I have long since refrained from doing anything in the song, way that is not low and comic, as nothing now has the slightest chance of success with the public-if it be not introduced into an opera, or sung frequently by some favourite vocalist-unless it be of the Perfect Cure' or The Whole Hog or None' species."

we find such operas as Don Giovanni, Guillaume Tell, the Barbiere, the Huguenots, the Prophète, and Masaniello drawing crowds night after night, and season after season, we can only arrive at one conclusion-that the public admire them. Time was-not many years since-when Don Giovanni was given two or three times a year merely to conciliate the pit and galleries, to the manifest distaste of the subscribers and Lord Dundrearys of the stalls. Now it has become absolutely one of the most favourite works in the repertory with boxes and stalls as well as pit and galleries, and no amount of representations appears to dull the edge of its attraction. There is no doubt that taste and judgement in operatic audiences are vastly superior to what they were in the days when George the Fourth was King, and that music has made more rapid strides in England than any other art.

There is, however, a reverse to every medal. Although it cannot be denied that a large accession has been made of late years to our musical knowledge, and that the critical faculty, as applied to the art, has been exercised with a that in one respect music never held so degraded a position power it never before possessed, it must be acknowledged in this country as it does at the present moment. Whoever doubts this, let him go to one of the many so-called "Music

halls

with which the metropolis so horribly abounds, and of he will there hear things absolutely incredible in an age progress and refinement. These "Halls" are not humble concert-rooms, or places of entertainment, such as landlords of public-houses set up to entice the thirsty to continue their potations, but magnificent saloons, dazzlingly illuminated, pictured, and decorated after a costly fashion, with an orchestra and conductor provided, and a company of vocalists. At first these "Halls" were started with the additament of a song or two as collateral security for the excellence of the brandy and tobacco. The frequenters, however, 'soon progressed into amateurs, and called for Sonnambula and Verdi. But these mild stimulants could not hold their way long beside the fiery liquors and the burning weed. Legitimacy was thrown overboard, and a tumultuous cry raised for something more exciting. Comic singers came into vogue, and Sam Collins, Sam Cowell, Mackney, Stead, and other superlative artists of the nondescript kind reigned for a time in the smoky places. Alas for the fickle multitude! they roared for still further excitement. Then came to the want of ever-considerative landlords perambulators on ropes and jumpers from suspended handles, eloquently denominated the Can this be true? and, if so, how account for the intel- "trapeze." Blondin at the Crystal Palace, and Leotard at lectual progress of music in England, so broadly and univer- the Alhambra, encouraged the revolution. Fortunately for sally insisted on? If we go to the Monday Popular Con- speculators, mankind generally prefer imitation to originality, certs, and draw our inferences from what we hear and see and the followers of Blondin and Leotard flourished at the there, we cannot help feeling assured that a purer love of expense of the principals. The excitement derived from music, and a more sound appreciation than formerly, is be- straight rope walking and the trapeze feats would to a tokened in a manner not to be mistaken. The gravest and certainty have palled upon the general taste had not happily most elaborate works are heard, not merely with attention, a few accidents lent it a novel whip and spur. The fall of a but delectation, and audiences are dismissed not only not human being from a great height, attended with a broken bored, but determined to come again to hear and enjoy. At collar-bone and two or three fractured limbs, awakened the Italian Operas, too, frivolity and fashion have in a great popular sympathy in a remarkable degree, and led to a measure faded away before enlightenment and taste. We no further expectation of even a more dreadful calamity; and longer have presented on the stage such works as Meyer's in fact a death or two happened in the very nick of time, Medea, Paccini's L'Ultimo Giorno di Pompeii, Mercadante's or there is no knowing to what extremity music-halls would Elisa e Claudio, Cimorosa's Gli Orazi, and many others now be driven to keep alive enthusiasm ; and it is feared by the hopelessly consigned to the tomb of the Capulets (with, by the shrewdest proprietors, that unless something new or very way, appropriately, the Romeo e Giuglietta of Zingarelli); but terrible turns up soon, these splendid places of amusement in their stead compositions of the highest worth, the master-will, for want of sufficient patronage, have to lower their pieces of Mozart, Rossini, Meyerbeer, Auber, Bellini, and Donizetti, hold their sway, and prove eminently attractive. When

gas and higher their charges.

There are a great many public executions now taking