again into a piano. Furthermore, all sfp'a in the second episode (page 36 et segg):—

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P *f.

The matter becomes most apparent in softly melodic portions in the adagios; when, for instance, in the remainder of the theme of the funeral march of the Eroica the first crotchet of the sixth bar is marked sf but the whole, except the pp, sotto voce, also; no one, we presume, will ever take it into his head to change the emphasis upon a flat into an outburst of sound, while such an outburst, even as the force in the stringed quartet shows, is quite appropriate in the last bar but one at the end of the march, with the same mark n/in the wind instruments.

Opposed to accentuation, we find in Beethoven, as a new means of expression, not employed by any composer before him,or, at any rate, not to the same extent, the system of non-accentuation, the absence of accent, and of everything like light and shade, resulting from increased or diminished strength of tone. This peculiar kind of execution occurs only in the piano and pianissimo, which are, furthermore, provided with a warning beacon in the shape of the word sempre (always). The great point, in the execution of such passages, is the avoiding even of a scarcely perceptible crescendo.

In the first movement of the Eroica, there are only two passages requiring a perfectly equal, we might almost say, indifferent, style of execution, firstly, the eighteen bars at the conclusion of the development in the second part (pages 46 and 47), and, secondly, the sixteen bars (pages 65—68), where, after the fortissimo of the first two bars of the theme in C major, the second violin takes it up pianissimo, until the return of the episode in F minor.

The scherzo, on the other hand, affords one of the most remarkable instances of the unaccented style of execution, devoid of any gradation of light and shade, of very long periods in continuous piano. The sempre pianissimo and staccato are retained, in the first place, for ninety-one bars, then for twenty-eight, and, in the repetition, for ninety-four more! That the marked minims here (pages 128, et segg.) :—


(To be continued.)

(addressed To His Brother.)

Prabury (Hungary), April 27, 1830.

Herr Brother !—Ringing of bells, drumming and music, carriage upon carriage, men running hither and thither, on all sides, picturesque crowds, that is the state of things about me here, for to morrow is the coronation of the king, which the city has been waiting for since yesterday, and praying the heavens to clear up and become pleasant for—for the grand ceremony, which should have taken place yesterday, had to be put off because of the continued and tremendous rain. But now since noon, the sky lia) become blue and serene; the moon is shining quietly upon the boisterous city, and to-morrow, as early as possible, the crown prince is to take his oath (as king of Hungary) upon the great market-place; thence he goes with a long procession of bishops and the nobles to the empire of the church, and finally proceeds on horseback to the Kiinigsberg (King s hill), which is hero directly before my window, there upon the banks of the Danube to ware his sword towards the four cardinal points, and so take possession of his new kingdom.

In this short journey I have gained the knowledge of an entirely new country; for Hungary with its magnates, its Obergespann,* its oriental luxury, side by side with barbarism, can be seen here, and the streets offer me a sight all unexpected and new. One really finds himself nearer the Orient; the frightfully stupid peasant Sclaves ; the land of gipsies ; the servants and coaches of the nobles overloaded with gold and gems (for they themselves are at best to bo seen through the open windows of their carriages); then to the strangely saucy national costumes, the yellow complexion, the long moustachios, the soft, foreign speech—altogether it makes upon one the motliest impression in the world. Yesterday morning I rambled the streets alone; there came a long train, of jolly soldiery upon their lively little horses; behind them was a troop of gipsies with music; then a lot of Vienna elegants with spectacles and gloves, talking with a Capuchin monk; then B squad of those small, half savage peasants, in long white coats, the hat down over the eyes, the black, smooth

; , • The Counts of hifbest rank.—Tn.

hair cut in a circle round their heads, skins of a reddish brown, exceedingly lazy in their motions, and having an indescribable mingled expression of utter indifference and wild stupidity; then a pair of fine, keen-looking alumni of theology, walking arm in arm and clad in long blue coats; Hungarian owners of estates in the bine-black national dress; court servants; travelling carriages just arriving, covered over and over with dirt. I followed the multitude as it moved slowly hill-upwards, and so came at length to the ruined castle, whence one sees the entire city, and far away down the Danube ; and everywhere from the old white walls, and from the towers and balconies above the people were gazing down upon the scene ; in every corner boys were standing and inscribing their names upon the walls for the benefit of posterity ; in a small room (perhaps it was once the chapel or the bedroom of somebody) a whole ox was roasting, slowly turning upon the spit, while the people hurrahed in concert; a long line of cannon stands before the castle, ready to thunder in due form at the coronation; down in the Danube, which here rushes madly along and flies through the bridge of boats with-arrow like quickness, lies the new steamboat, which has just arrived, beladen with strangers; to all this add the view far away out over the level, the bushy country over the meadows which the Danube overflows, the dikes and roads all alive with human beings, the hills planted from top to bottom with the vines of Hungary; all this is foreign and strange enough. Add, moreover, the pleasant contrast, that of living with the pleasantest and friendliest people, and to find with them the new, doubly surprising —these were, indeed, more of those lucky days, dear Herr Brother, which beneficent Heaven has so often and richly conferred upon me.

The 28th, about 1 p. m. The king has gone through the ceremony." It was heavenly beautiful. Why should I make any long description? In an hour we all journey back to Vienna, and thence I go on my way. Under my window is it deadly tumult, and the city guards are hurrying together, but only to shout " Viva." I made my way alone into the crowd, while our ladies saw all the proceedings from the windows, and the impression made upon me by nil this incredible magnificence is ineffaceable. On the great square of the Brothers of Mercy, the people rushed together like mad, for it was there the oath was to be taken, on a tribune covered with cloth; this cloth the people had the right afterwards to appropriate to make themselves clothes; hard by, too, was a fountain, spouting red and white Hungarian wines; the grenadiers could not keep the crowd back; an unlucky hackney coach, which stopped for an instant, was in an instant covered with people climbing up the wheels, lodging themselves on the roof, on the driver's seat, making a great ant-hill of the vehicle, so that the coachman, not to commit murder, had to stop there and wait quietly until all was over. When the procession approached, to which all heads uncovered themselves, it was only with the greatest difficulty that I could get my hat off and hold it up over my head; this cut off the view of an old Hungarian, who stood behind me; he, however, at once devised a way, seized the hat, without saying, "by your leave," and crushed it at a stroke so flat that it was hardly as large as a cap; then they yelled as if transfixed on spits, and almost tore one another to pieces in struggling for the cloth; in short it was a mob—but my Hungarians! The scamps look as if they were born only to be nobles and do-nothings, and as if they were very melancholy about it, and ride like the devil. When the procession left the hill, first came the embroidered court servants, the drummers and trumpeters, the heralds and other menials, and then suddenly, in frightful leaps, pleine carriire, a count on horseback sprang down the street like a madman; the horse is bridled with gold; the rider is completely covered with diamonds, real heron feathers, and embroidered velvet (you see he had not yet donned his richest costume, because he must ride like one possessed; Count Sandor, the mad man is called); he carried an ivory sceptre in his hand, and pricked his horse with it, and every time the horse sprang and made a powerful leap; when he had cooled down, comes a file of some sixty other magnates, all in like fantastic magnificence, all with beautiful coloured turbans, jolly moustachios and dark eyes; one rides a white horse which he has covered with a golden net; a second, a grey, with diamonds all over the bridle; a third, a black, bedecked with purple stuff; one wears sky-blue from head to foot, thickly embroidered with gold, a white turban and a long white doliman; another is all dressed in cloth of gold with a purple doliman, and so each seems more parti-coloured and richer than his neighbour, and all ride so boldly and recklessly that it is fun to see it; and now, at last, the Hungarian guard, Esterhazy at the head, dazzling the eyes with brilliants and embroidery of pearls; how can all this be described? One must have witnessed all this splendour to conceive it, as the procession arranged itself in the broad square and stood still, and all the precious stones and variegated colours, and the lofty golden Bishops' mitres, and the crucifixes sparkled in the brightest sunlight, like a thousand stars I

Now then, to-morrow, God willing, I shall go on. Here you have a letter, Herr Brother; write one also and soon, to me, and let me know how life goes with you. You have had on uprising in Berlin, also, and indeed, from journeyman tailors; what was the affair?

To you, your parents, and your brothers and sisters, I say once again a farewell in leaving Germany; now I leave Hungary for Italy, and thence I will write oftener and more quietly. Be in good spirits, dear Paul, and push forward bravely; rejoice in all that's joyful, and think of thy brother, who rambles about the world. Farewell. Thy Felix.

'Dcr Konlg ware unter die Haube sebracht."

LOVE'S TRIUMPH. In Love's Triumph Mr. Wallace has ventured on ground he can hardly be said to have trod before, challenging comparison with the masters of the Opera Comique headed by M. Auher, who, as a musician so worthily represents the genius of his country. The book with which Mr. Planchc had supplied him, no doubt suggested, if it did not positively necessitate, this metamorphosis—or perhaps, to speak more accurately this ultimate settling down into a style towards which, even in his romantic operas, the composer of Maritana has always betrayed more or less tendency. The plot, the situations, the dialogue, the dramatis personae, and everything else, even to the laying out of the " scenario," are eminently and exclusively French. Nay, in his departures from the piece, upon which his libretto is founded (Le Portrait Vivant of MM. Melesville and Laya, produced at the Theatre Francais in 1842), the English dramatist has, if possible, given a still deeper French colouring to his work, by a freer use of that element of improbability upon which French authors of the Scribe period, imbued with the spirit of Scribe, just as French composers of the same period are imbued with the spirit of Auber, so much delight to exercise their invention. Whether he has done well to heighten the perplexity of the audience by bringing that visibly before them which the original leaves to their imagination is questionable. But, even admitting the English version to be, in this particular respect, an improvement, we cannot think otherwise than that the manner in which the new incident is handled leads to the extreme verge of absurdity. We may accept as legitimate in a theatrical portrayal of life the fact of a French Princess Royal and the daughter of a Dutch burgomaster bearing so close a resemblance to each other in every physical attribute as to deceive not only a father but even a devoted lover, but when they are brought so near together that the one retiring from the stage becomes the signal for the other to appear, and vice versa, the improbability of the situation overtaxes the credulity of the most easily convinced spectator. Thus the third act, which might have been rendered the most interesting in the opera, stands out conspicuously the feeblest. The position of Theresa, the Princess's "double" (the " living portrait"), and her lover, Adolph de Savigny, whose first interview takes place while the Princess is concealed behind a pedestal, overhearing what passes between them, is imagined with singular infelicity. It may be stated here that Adolph, rejected by Van Groot, Theresa's father—who, unmindful of his daughter's inclination, has affianced her to Canillac, a dissolute nobleman attached to the Court—has come to seek employment in the army, hoping to drown his grief in the active perils of a soldier's life. Presented to Mademoiselle de Valois by the Marquis de Pons, Chief Equerry, indebted to his father for certain important though hitherto unrequited services, Adolph is at once confounded by the resemblance of that Royal lady to his own beloved Theresa, and behaves in such a manner as at first to attract the curiosity of the Princess, and gradually to awaken B profounder interest. Meanwhile, appointed to a place of honour near her person, Adolph accompanies his Royal mistress to the chase, and is fortunate enough to save her from imminent danger,—a wolf, made furious by a gunshot, having sprung upon her horse from behind. Our hero kills the wolf and restores Mademoiselle de Valois to her friends, but in the scuffle drops a miniature, which, being placed in the hands of the Princess, she, with ill-suppressed emotion, beholds the very couuterpart.of herself. Persuaded now of the real object of her young champion's admiration, the feeling that agitates her breast augments in intensity. Just at the point, however, when Mademoiselle de Valois is about to forget her high station and the duties imperatively attached to it, Mynheer Van Groot, the father of Theresa, most opportunely arrives. He, too, is perplexed with the likeness to his daughter; but his strange conduct at first partially opens the eyes of the Princess, and then—with the aid of a duplicate miniature, which Van Groot has intrusted to the Marquis de Pons—wholly dispels the allusion, so fondly and secretly cherished, that the object of Adolph's distracted passion was really herself, and not some humbler Dulcinea. With self-denial more than princely she straightway resolves that such true devotion shall not go unrewarded ; and, having the power, no less than the will, she speedily vanquishes all obstacles, and—by expedients, of which the spectator must be left to judge—brings about the union and the happiness of the lovers. This leads us back to the pedestal, and the pretty games of " each-cache," played by the Princess and Theresa, who—both impersonated by Miss Louisa Pyne, and alternately taking possession of the stage at very short intervals—are expected to be looked upon by a bewildered audience as two different personages. Endowed with the curiosity as well as the magnanimity of a genuine woman, Mademoiselle de Valois longs to witness unperceived an interview between the lovers being not yet quite convinced, moreover, that her own charms have not in some degree obliterated in Adolph's breast the impression of his first attachment. She has her wish, Theresa, arrayed in the mantle and coronet of the Princess, taxes Adolph with having found her portrait; Adolph declares that the likeness is not hers, but that of

one, Bo marvellously resembling her, "in feature, form, and voice," that it is difficult for him to believe it is not she herself whom he is addressing, and " whose accents thrill his very soul;" the Princess at these and suchlike declarations lets fall a rose from one of the vases on the pedestal, the preconcerted signal at which Theresa is to declare herself and ultimately has the enviable privilege of listen.'n* to the raptures of Adolph and the triumph of the Burgomaster's daughter—Love's Triumph, of course, though, taking Mademoiselle de Valois herself, by far the most interesting character, into consideration, Love's Sacrifice would have been even a more appropriate name.

These are the materials out of which Mr. Wallace has built his first veritable comic opera. That he should look at them almost wholly from the point of view of modern French lyric comedy, and treat them accordingly, was by no means surprising; but that he should for the most part have accomplished his.task so well says no little for his readiness, tact, and general ability. Indeed, the omission of one or two of those conventional ballads, which are the Nemesis of our dramatic composers, would make the work as complete as it is spirited and engaging. Mr. Planche" with the experience of an old practitioner, has supplied a set of characters highly favourable to contrast, and in the true poetic vein has written verses distinguished in an equal measure by clearness, elegance, and pleasing variety of rhythm—verses as sinsible throughout as they are polished and well balanced. The prose too, is as honest as the rhyme, and inclines us to overlook improbability and weakness of construction in uniform healthiness of language. No favourable point for genuine effect has escaped Mr. Wallace. Abundant in melody, like all his operas, Love's Triumph in marked decision of style, if not in ambitious aim, surpasses any of them. The overture, introducing several themes afterwards recurred to, is airy, brilliant, and in keeping; and though the choral introduction to the first act cannot be compared with so elaborate a piece as that which follows the orchestral prelude to The Amber Witch, it is fresh, genial, and equally to the purpose. Here, in the chorus, "Long life to her Highness," which brings on the Princess (with a solo), and in the capital hunting song, " Mount and away" (for chorus with quartet of " principals"), the business of the scene is admirably kept up. All is well contrived and effective on the stage, the orchestral accompaniments imparting with lively earnestness the requisite tone and colour—true forest music, in short, picturesque, vigorous, and well sustained. The other important concerted piece of this act is the finale, where the Princess describes^in a phrase of striking melodiousness, her providential escape from the wolf*:—

"Carelessly cantering down a lonely dell,

"Where, through the tangled branches, scarce a sunbeam fell **—

and where the consignment of Adolph's lost minature produces such agitation in the bosom of its supposed fair owner as to arrest the attention and excite the curiosity of those immediately about her. The conflicting emotions here involved—the confusion of the Princess; the passion of Adolph, though sorely perplexed, still dreaming of bis Theresa; the sly malice of the page.Henri de Venneuil, who, with page like rapidity, detects the secret of his mistress; the jealousy ot toe courtiers, Cadillac and Durettte, who regard with instinctive apprehension the sudden favour into which an unknown stranger has been lifted—are skillfully combined and forcibly depicted, the acclamations of the chorus in praise of Adolph's gallant deed, and their signal-notes of departure, the hunt being ended, endowiug with extra animation a scene of the most animated. This first act also comprises a dance of villagers, the music of which, in the style of the media;val romancKa, with variations and limitations, is quite perfect in its way. and in the clever treatment of the second theme, by means of what musical theorist* term "double counterpoint," reveals a praiseworthy emulation of the elder masters—some of whom were nothing if not "contrapuntal." While speaking of the purely orchestral music, we may mention the interlude between the first and second, and second and third acts, both highly interesting, the first including a solo for clarinet, with florid coda, built upon the theme afterwards sung by Theresa at the end of the last act—a solo written, no doubt, with an eye to Mr. Lazarus, and, as the result has shown, with an intimate appreciation of that gentleman's remarkable talent The second act is terminated, even more effectively than the first, by a finale which, affording still larger and more marked diversity of material, has been planned and accomplished with proportionate success. In this finale, as in the first, allusions to prominent phrases of the overture carry on the orchestral under-current, to which, in the opera of Love's Triumph, Mr. Wallace has striven—if with occassional over-eagerness, On the whole with undeniable felicity— to impart unceasing musical interest. It also contains a part-song—

*' Corln, for Cleora dying,

"Wastes his life- away lu sighs "—

a delightful inspiration, with a genuine smack of the old English fltvour, both in its tune and its harmony. There is nothing at all "French" in this, nor, indeed, in any part of the concerted music that follows, where the dialogue is supported by an accompaniment of the orchestra, in the time and style of the old minuet, with an ingenuity that cannot fail to win the hearty praise of musicians. But the predominant features of the Second finale are the arrival of Mynheer van Groot, the sensation he creates among the courtiers, the impression he produces on the Princess, and the effects of the inebriate condition in which he presents himself, or rather is presented by the Count de Canillac, his intended son-in-law—the ultimate result being considerable hilarity and very general confusion. The cosmic power of Mr. Wallace in the treatment of this situation is most favourably exhibited; and it is difficult to imagine anything more animated, or, in a musical sense, more happily contrived, than the whole scene, from the laughing chorus (" Ha! ha ! ha! he is quite delightful"), to the end, when van Groot, having made himself eminently ridiculous, escapes from the midst of his pitiless tormentors. No wonder that, night after night, this should evoke an uproarious summons for the composer—and, let us add a hearty demonstration in favour of Mr. H. Corn, who is every inch a Dutchman, and very drunk to boot. The third and last act contains no important piece in which the chorus plays a part; but it introduces an accompanied lertet—

11 In mystery shrouded
The future still lies"—

which would atone for a multitude of ballads (here there are no more than two), and, is in the fullest acceptation of the word, masterly. The principal characters are further developed in certain duets and trios, more or less meritorious, from which we would specially single out, as sterling dramatic music, the trio (" A simple Cymon") where the Marquis de Pons brings Adolph de Savigny under the notice of the Princess, furtively ridiculing his pretensions, while he openly affects to intercede (Act 1.); and that for Van Groot, Cadillac and the page (" Welcome, I am all on fire," Act 11.), ending with the exhilarating brindiii, "For me if you would garlands twine," in which Bacchus is apostrophized with more than ordinary enthusiasm. There is also an unquestionably comic vein in the duet between the Marquis and Adolph ("My poor young friend," Act 1.), where the wily courtier pretends to undertake the fortunes of his unpaid creditor's son; genuine expression in that where the Princess, unseen by Adolph, watches, with womanly anxiety, the effect produced upon him by the miniature, the common likeness of herself and Theresa ("As in a dream I wander," Act II.) ; and vivid dramatic movement in that where the Marquis gives Mademoiselle de Valois the miniature he has obtained from Van Groot ("To the secret of our Cymon," Act Ill.), which, regarded simply as a piece of abstract music, is the most interesting and skilfully conducted of the three. Of the solos incomparably the best is the grand scene of the Princess (" O rank, thou hast thy shackles," Act 11.), which comprises two slow movements of such genuine beauty, so thoroughly expressive and appealing, as not only to redeem the somewhat commonplace brilliancy of the last part (a bravura), but to charm on their own account. The first air of the Marquis ("Patience, prudence") is sufficiently bustling and lively; that of Canillac (" Wayward fortune")—in the style of a polacca somewhat vague in its relation to the personage from whose lips it is made to proceed ; that of Henri de Venneuil ("I'm a model page"), pretty and in good keeping, if not over-refined; that of Van Groot (" I have brought my daughter/Act 11.), quaint and original— in short, another bit of unaffected humour. Of the ballads we prefer "Those withered flowers" (Theresa), being not deeply touched either by that allotted to Adolph in the first act ("Though all too poor"), styled romaraa, nor by that in which Canillac sacrifices Theresa, "Lovely, loving, and beloved." The slow introduction to the finale of Theresa (" It is not in the summer tide"—identical, as we have hinted, with the theme of the clarinet interlude), in spite of its showy coda, in which the flute (Mr. Prattcn) largely participates, is inferior to another excerpt from the overture, first recognized in Adolph's ballad, "Night, love, is creeping," and subsequently as the familiar ■train by which Theresa, in the dress of the Princess, convinces her lover of her iudentity. Much more might be written about the music of Love's Triumph, did space allow of our entering into details; but enough has, we think, been adduced to show that in treating a new kind of subject, Mr. Wallaco has successfully proved the versatility of his powers. On his many admirable qualities as a dramatic composer we have already dwelt more than once and we are glad to recognize their easy adaptability to the expression of light comedy. Love's Triumph, if here and there exception may be found, will add at any rate to its composer's well-earned reputation, as the result of serious thought and well-directed labour, combined with rich fancy and disinguished talent.— Times.

Kablsbche.—Ferdinand Hiller's new opera, Die Katakomben, was given with great success on the 14th instant. The talented composer had previously been stopping here for some time to superintend the stage rehearsals.

PROVINCIAL. From the Halifax Guardian we glean the following particulars of a concert which was given by the Haley Hill Choral Society in the Odd Fellows' Hall, Halifax, on the 10th instant, in aid of the distress in Yorkshire:—

The Haley Hill Choral Society has done a good thing at a good time. In giving a performance of sacred music for the relief of the suffering operatives in the cotton districts, its performing members (who are chiefly working men) have done their duty. And in limiting the relief to Yorkshire distress, they have wisely obeyed the golden rule that " Charity begins at home." There is no doubt that in the Yorkshire vallies bordering on Lancashire there is as much real distress as in Lancashire, and no doubt it is the duty of Yorkshiremen first to stave want and distress from Yorkshire doors before they open their purses to relieve a neighbouring country. The performance on Monday last was the oratorio Judas Maccabeus. Criticism was entirely disarmed by the goodness of the cause which all came forward so readily to aid; but making due allowance for the youth and relative inexperience of some of the singers, there was little that called for r e- mark. Mr. Frobisher conducted and carried with him throughout tin whole evening the 64 vocalists and 87 instrumentalists (18 wind, 18 string, and one percussion), who enrolled themselves under his baton. The vocalists were Miss. Tankard, Mrs. Empsall, Misses Leach. Turner, Tushton, and Messrs. Carter, Briggs, Peace, Mitchell, Townsend, Hoyle, Stork, and E. Sladden. Between the parts E. Akroyd, Esq., president and patron of the Haley Hill Society, briefly thanked the performers for t heir gratuitous Services, and the audience for their attendance. We understand that upwards of £70 nett will be realised by the performance.

Mr. Charles Salaman has been giving two "Musical Lectures" in the city of Northampton with signal success. The Northampton Mercury thus writes of them:—

Mr. Salaman gave two excellent lectures, morning and evening, at the Lecture Hall, in Gold-street, on Monday last. That in the morning was entitled—" A Morning with Beethoven," and consisted of a most interesting and comprehensive, though brief summary, of the principal events in the life of the great "Tondichter"—poet of sounds— and a very clever analysis of his works and of the character of his genius. The lecture was amply and admirably illustrated by Mr. Salaman on the pianoforte, and by Miss Eliza Hughes, who sang with purity and chasteness the song from Wilhelm Meister, "Knowest thou the Land," Goethe's joyous Song of May, Marcelin's song from Fidelia —" What joy were mine," and the "Kleino bltlmen." Mr. Salaman goes through his task con amore, and the attention of his audience in consequence never flags. The evening lecture was entitled—" An Evening with Weber," and in plan was the same as that of the morning. It opened with a very agreeable sketch of the life of " the great artist and good man," as he truly styled the composer of Der Freischulz, including criticisms on his operas, accompanied with illustrations vocal and instrumental. In the first part the selections were wholly from Der Freischutz. Miss Hughes sang the popular " If a youth should meet a maiden ;" the cavatina, '• Though clouds by tempests may be driven;" the ghost story, " My aunt, poor soul," and the rondo, "Let not sorrow," with excellent taste and feeling, and Mr. Salaman concluded with a selection from some of the most popular melodies on the pianoforte, the famous " Jager Chorus," the "Drinking Song," Le. The second part included selections from Prcciosa—the overture, the cavatina, " Lo, the star of eve is glancing;" the animated gipsy chorus "The stars that above us are shining;" from Euryanthe "' Tig May, sweet May;" and the finale to the 1st Act; and from Oberon, the recitative, " Haste, gallant Knight," and air, " Yes, my Lord, my joy, my blessing;" the mermaid's song, " O, 'tis pleasant to float on the sea." In his lectures, as well as his musical illustrations, Mr. Salaman evinced a taste and conscientiousness and a respect for his art which was gratifying to witness. We can imagine nothing more delightful than " an evening" such as Mr. Salaman can give, nothing more beneficial alike to our tempers and our tastes.

Mannheim.—The following notice has been issued by the Committee of Deutsche Tonhallo: "No sufficient majority of votes (in conformity with the" laws of the Society) has been arrived at, by Herren Franz Lachner, Ueiuricli Neeb, and Joseph Swauss, who were duly chosen as arbitrators, with regard to the sixteen four-part settings for male voices of the prize poem of Dr. K. A. Mayer, which were sent in, conformably to our public notice of October, 1861. The work of Herr F. Lux, of Mayencc, obtained, however, one vote for the prize and one " honorable mention;" that of Herr V. E. Becker, of Wurzburg, obtained two " honorable mentions;" while the works of Herren Ed. Guth and Eberhkuhn obtained each one. "Those competitors who desire their works to be returned, are requested to make application to us for them within the next six months, as we cannot be responsible for the said works beyond that period. 23rd October, 1862."








GRAND SEPTET, in E flat, Op. 20, for Violin, Viola, Clari net, Horn, Bassoon, Violoncello, Bad Double Bui

(by desire)

MM, Joachim, 11. Webb, Lazarus, C. Harper, Hulchins, C. Severn, and Piatti.

BONO, "Ave Maria." Cherublni.

(Clarionet obbligato, Mr. Lazarus.)
Miss Rodcn.

NEW BONO, with Vloloncollo obbligatn. Signer Plattl Piatti.

Mr. Santloy.

SONATA, in G, Op. 29, No. 1, for Pianoforte solo (No. 16 of

Hallo's edition) Beethoven.

Mr. Lindsay Bloper.


SONATA, in B flat, for Pianoforte and Violin Dussek.

Mr. Lindsay Bloper and Herr Joachim.

SONG, "Cease your funning." (Beggar's Opera.)

Miss Rodcn.


major, for Violin alone J. S. Bach.

(Repeated by desire.)
Herr Joachim.

SONG, " Oh! moon of night." A. Manns.

Mr. Santley.

QUARTET, in E flat, Op. tl, No. 3, for two Violins, Viola,

and Violoncello Haydn,

MM. Joachim, L. RIes, II. Webb, and Piatti.
Conductor - MR. BENEDICT.

To commence at Eight o'clock precisely.

Sofa Stalls, 6s.; Balcony, M. ; Admission, is. Tickets to be had at Messrs. CHAPPELL & COW" 50 New Bond Street.

TO CORRESPONDENTS. A Professor Of Music At Oxford should send his name and

address before we can publish his letter. A. D. X.—Mercadante is alive and living in Naples. We thought

everybody knew that he was a composer of music.


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

Fridaysbut no later. Payment on delivery.

T { Two lines and under 2s. 6d.

terms | Every additional 10 words 6(/

To Publishers And Composers—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.


To the Editor of the Musical 'would.

ARE there any signs of a musical season to cheer and comfort us through war and party strife? A few scattering ones, at least; some cheerful twitterings of early

birds, enough to justify the early confidence that spring is coming—the musical and social spring and summer, coinciding with the fall and winter of the natural year. Signs and beginnings there are, with notes of preparation, warranting assurance that we shall have as much and as good music during the coming winter, as we had last year, to say the least—possibly more and better. We needed it then; it wag so necessary to all peace, and rest, and sanity of mind; so impossible to endure the never ceasing strain and pressure upon every faculty and every sensibility, caused by the consciousness of the fiery trial, the new birth-throes (let us believe), through which our country is passing, without some such diversion, some such harmonizing, tranquillizing, hope and joy reviving angel influence as music. We need it Btill more now, that we are grown so weary of the protracted struggle, while the call is clearer than ever to flinch not short of the one only glorious conclusion; now while the cry goes up with intenser agony: Will the night soon pass? For health of mind and spirits, to make us feel that we are still ourselves, we must have recreation,—none so pure, so fit, so sweetly restorative as music. The want, then, remains unchanged; the means of satisfying it never yet taxed anybody very heavily, and a thousand costlier luxuries are not yet discarded. Therefore it is pretty certain we shall have it.

To begin with our own city, what beginnings are there? What signs? Such as have already risen on the field of vision are the following — small ones, perhaps, but yet significant and full of promise. We call it significant, in the first place, that we have to beginning, with the purpose of an indefinite continuation, of classical organ concertsrepresenting one important side of musical culture and enjoyment which has been too long strangely unprovided for, among us. Year after year we have been urging our clever organists to do this thing; it is so cheaply done; it serves to keep the organist in practice in the true organ music, such as finds little chance in ordinary church service, and in rapport with the lover's of such music; while it gives the public, however small at first, easy and frequent opportunity to hear, and know, and feel what real organ music is, and how inestimable the treasure bequeathed to the world by such a spirit as Sebastian Bach, if half the pains were taken to know him that are spent upon the empty triumphs of modern virtuosity. This want our young countryman, Mr. John K. Paine, has undertaken in a a modest, simple manner to supply in some degree. His two concerts at the West Church, in aid of the Sanitary Commission (one last Saturday and one to-day), are, we are happy to say, but the commencement of a series of organ concerts, which he will give at stated times, to such listeners as care enough about it to pay the very small price, and with a view, not so much of gain, as of keeping the artist alive in himself, and of keeping Art and the interest therein alive in such public as it may command. This is the motive for which the best artists in the German cities give concerts; it is seldom that they hope to make money by them.

On Saturday evening, next week, Mr. Julius Eichberg will give a soiree at Chickering's, which will have many features to interest the lovers of the best in music. Besides his own admirable violinism in the Chaconne of Bacho, and smaller pieces, he will, with Mr. Paine's assistance, present one of Bach's sonata-duos for violin and piano,—for the first time, we fancy, in our concert rooms. Also his own concerto for four violins, which has made a mark before. There will also be part-singing by the " Orpheus," and songs hv good solo talent, for still further fresh variety. Next in the field will probably be the Mendelssohn Quintet Club, who are preparing to open their annual supply of good things— quintets, quartets, trios, sonatas, &c.—on the 12th instant. It is. their fourteenth season I Among the new works in practice are a quartet by Schumann and another of the so-called posthumous quartets of Beethoven; also some modern varieties, attempts by young composers, &c, will mingle in their programmes and pique curiosity, if nothing more. Mr. Carl Zerrahn informs us that he is in no doubt about renewing his Philharmonic orchestra concerts, and at an earlier day than usual, perhaps before the present month runs out. His materials for an orchestra will be at least as good (essentially the same) as last year, perhaps with some increase of force. We shall not be suffered to forget or miss the inspiration of Beethoven's symphonies—outlive them who ever can as long as there shall be any chance to hear them? Mr. Zerrahn has imported a large and various supply of new orchestral works, overtures, arrangements, dance music, &c, of which he will doubtless give us a taste both in the Philharmonic evening concerts, and in the afternoon concerts of the Orchestral Union, which are sure to follow when the first lead off. As for oratorio and large sacred choral music, we hear of no special movements; but the old Handel and Haydn Society still lives, to which we owe all that we know hereabouts of the Messiah, and Samson, and Judas Maccabceus, and Israel in Egypt, and Jephtha, and the Creation, and Elijah, &c, and doubtless they have something good in store for us. But we need also one or more new choral societies upon a smaller scale, and somewhat different principle, to cultivate acquaintance (and diffuse it as they may have means and opportunity) with such works as the cantatas, masses, "Passions," &c., of Sebastian Bach; and with the works of Palestrina and other old Italian and Flemish masters. Such things will spring up in time; they depend on individual enthusiasm and enterprise; the fit materials may not as yet be numerous, but enough so for a small beginning which may grow.

We shall have semi-private, social concerts, too, given to whole rooms full of friends and guests, by such societies as the "Orpheus," the "Mozart Club," &c, which rank among the most pleasant and profitable of our musical occasions. And it will be strange if out of all this movement there do not spring many occasional, individual good things in the concert line, such as were among the finest grain of last year's reaping. (For instance, Mr. Lang's production of the Walpurgis Night of Mendelssohn; Mr. Dresel's pianoforte soirees, <fec.")

New York unfolds of course a richer programme. Her large German population, and abundant supply of good musicians, make more and larger undertakings in the higher fields of music a necessity. Yet always, until very lately, in symphony, oratorio and classical quartet performances Boston has borne the palm. But New Nork has a permanent orchestral society, on a much ampler scale than ours, which has to be regathered every winter by the individual concert giver. Her noble "Philharmonic" has already had its first public rehearsal (concerts to follow in course); and the bill was good:—Beethoven's 4th symphony, an overture (Christmas Bream) by Ferdinand Hiller, Mendelssohn's violin concerto, &c.—Nor is this the only chance for great orchestral music; Mr. Carl Anschuetz, with his German Opera orchestra, is giving Sunday evening concerts, intending to bring out all the nine symphonies of Beethoven in course, besides a great variety of overtures and other works by older and newer masters, both classical and still debatable. In Brooklyn, which is but the other lobe of New York, the

Philharmonic orchestra has summoned Mr. Theodore Thomas to its conductorship, and will soon again divide attention with the parent Philharmonic on the other side. In New York they have opera—and German opera too—which looks like a settled thing, an institution, where such things are heard as Mozart's Seraglio and Zauberfiote, Weber's Der Freyschiitz, and many a good thing which we only hear about in these parts :—not to speak of the various crumbling kaleidoscope combinations of Italian Opera, chiefly shaken together out of the same old bits of glass by sharp Jew managers, and now and then a peep or two at it peripatetically vouchsafed here in Boston and the larger towns about us. Then there is the "Liederkranz," under the direction of Mr. Paur, announcing four concerts made up of some rare selections; such as: finale from Mendelssohn's Lorelyj Gade's Comala; the "Mignon-Requiem" and the Manfred (melo-drama, solo and chorus) of Schumann; the Lobgesang of Mendelssohn; eight-part choruses by Palestrina and Lotti; Gloria from Beethoven's great mass in D; and Credo from the mass written by Liszt for the Convent at Gran. Truly a tempting feast in these dry times! Of the plans of the Harmonic, the Mendelssohn, and other sacred choral societies, we are not informed. They probably will not be idle. Then there will be the interesting programme of Messrs. MaBon and Thomas's Chamber concerts, which will commence again next month, and doubtless give rich feasts of Beethoven, Schumann, Schubert, Chopin, <fec, not confined to the commonest well-known selections from their works. At least such we take to be the spirit of their enterprise.

In Philadelphia, too, there will probably be no falling off; though we are not yet informed of the intentions of the Oratorio and Musical Fund Societies of that "City of Brotherly Love." Meanwhile it is certain that the popular, in part classical "rehearsals" of the Germania Orchestra, under Carl Sentz, will be resumed on the 22nd of this month. Perhaps they (that is, their audiences) have reached the point where they may assay a whole symphony, instead of only now and then a scherzo or andante as in past years.—Mr. Wolfsohn's classical Soirees will come round again, offering such attractions as Mozart's quintet for piano with wind instruments; his trio for piano, violin and clarinet; Beethoven's trio with clarinet; some of Schumann's compositions for piano and clarinet; a septet by Hummel, &c. Other classical Soirees are announced by Messrs. Jarvis and Cross.

Such are the results of a hasty look-out over the chief points of the field. The report is by no means complete, but there is enough to show that there will be a " musical season." Whether it will be marked by real musical progress, whether the standards of true art will be borne farther forward, remains to be seen.

J. S. Dwight.

EVERY age has its special characteristic. That which more particularly distinguishes our own is the tendency to go a-head, to make use of a Yankee term. We live in precipitate times. To hurry onward in a headlong course is the endeavour of all classes in every art and every profession. To outstrip his fellows in the great race of life is more than ever the aim and object of adventurous and impetuous man. The very elements seem to conspire with his necessities and discovery to keep pace with his aspirations. The electric telegraph and steam would almost appear providential concessions to.his thirst for knowledge and his eagerness to communicate it. The epithet "fast," a modern coinage,

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