with such copiousness that the organ in question shall be plunged which it is absolutely compelled further to communicate what it has received to the whole faculty of feeling-can, if he wishes to enchain this organ continuously, only degrade and blunt it, by rendering it to a certain extent forgetful of its endless power of reception or else he completely renounces its endlessly realizing co-operation, he abandons the fetters of its sensual participation, and employs it again only as a slavish, dependent bearer of the immediate communication of the understanding to the understanding; which, however, is as much as to say: the poet renounces his intention, he ceases to write poetry, he simply excites in the receptive understanding that old element which was already known to it, and previously presented by sensual perception, to a new combination, but does not itself communicate any fresh object. By merely elevating spoken language into rhymed verse, the poet can do nothing more than compel the receptive hearing to unsympathetic, childishly superficial attention, which is incapable of extending inwardly for its object, the inexpressive word-rhyme itself. The poet, whose object is not simply to excite such unsympathetic attention, must end by completely turning away from the co-operation of the feelings, and by endeavouring to dissipate completely his fruitless excitement, in order again to be capable of communicating undisturbedly to the understanding.

We shall now be capable of perceiving more in detail the only manner in which this state of very highest excitement of the feelings, endowed with strength for production, is to be realized,

as soon as we shall have examined in what relation our modern music stands towards this rhythmical or finally-rhymed verse of the poetry of the present day, and what influence such verse has been able to exercise upon it.

(To be continued.)

ORIGINAL CORRESPONDENCE.

NATIONAL OPERA.

To the Editor of the Musical World.

SIR,-You will, I hope, excuse me trespassing on your valuable time, as the subject on which I am about to write is one of great importance to that portion of the English public which, through your valuable paper, you represent. That England has no National Opera you will readily admit, and that the absence of such an establishment is a disgrace to the country every one must acknowledge. On the continent, it is not only the principal cities that possess an opera, almost every small town in the provinces in possession of a theatre has also a good though small band, and generally a decent troupe of singers, who perform all sorts of operas, from Guillaume Tell down to the newest little opéra comique, more or less well. If, then, the small provincial towns of France, Italy, and Germany can support an opera, cannot London-the largest and richest metropolis in the world-do the same? That it can, there is not a doubt; but why it does not is a mystery which remains to be solved. It cannot be supposed that the English nation is unmusical; it cannot be affirmed that the musical taste of the English public yields in the smallest degree to that of any other people; it cannot be argued that we have no first-rate singers, whilst we number amongst our countrywomen Madame Clara Novello, Madame Albertini-now Madame Bauchardé, who is already celebrated in Italy-Madame Fiorentini, Miss C. Hayes, Miss Birch-whom, by the bye, the French acknowledged, as far as voice was concerned, to be superior to any of their countrywomen when she was in Paris some

years ago-Mrs. Sims Reeves, and several others whom it cannot be

denied are worthy of a place in any lyrie establishment; nor, furthermore, can it be said that we have no native composers, for we have a great many excellent musicians, whose names are at least as worthy as those of Adolphe Adam and Louis Ciapisson, of the French Institute, and who, if they had a chance, would soon show that they are by no means inferior to some of the "renowned" foreign composers of the present day.

For a very long time I have been forming plans for the most effectual mode of establishing a permanent National Opera-not one so disre putable to England as a musical country, and so wretchedly conducted as that to which the London public has been accustomed of late at Drury Lane, the Surrey, and elsewhere-but a first-rate establishment, at which singers, band, chorus, and everything else should be first-rate.

This, I am certain, is the only way of ever establishing a real English Opera, as the London opera goers will never listen to anything secondrate, and in this I must say they are perfectly right.

And now, sir, before I proceed to lay before you the resolutions that I have taken, I must beg of you to consider this letter quite private and not intended for your journal.*

I have determined, if possible, before my death to see a regular national opera established in England; and as, in a short time, I hope behalf of that art, which unhappily is so undervalued by the greater to be in possession of a certain fortune which I wish to spend in part of our countrymen, I think I cannot better employ it than in opening a large lyric establishment in London, or keeping it going, if I may use such a word, until that time when the English nation will be too proud of it to let it fall to the ground for want of support. And now, Mr. Editor, I must ask you to be so very obliging as to give me, through the medium of your excellent paper, a few hints as to the improvement of the following propositions, and also to answer me those questions which inexperience obliges me to trouble you with. I propose:

1. That Her Majesty's should be fixed on as the most suitable theatre for an English opera house.

2. That the season should last eight months, beginning in December and ending in August; thereby enabling the artists to assist at the great provincial musical festivals.

3. That the days of performance should be Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, so as to interfere as little as possible with the Italian Opera. 4. That those works most fit for the English stage of the great foreign masters, should be performed as well as those of British

composers.

Well, sir, supposing that these rules were scrupulously adhered to, and that the prices of admission were fixed at about the same rate as at the Grand Opéra at Paris, do you really think that a permanent National Opera might be established? Will you also inform me, sir, if the undernamed principals, with the usual staff of seconde donne, etc., a first rate band, and a thorough good chorus, would be sufficient to make a beginning with?

Prime Dorne.-Madame Clara Novello, Miss Birch, Mdlle. Nau, and Mrs. Weiss.

Contralti.-Madame Amadei and Miss Fanny Huddart.
Tenori.-Mr. Sims Reeves, Mr. Swift, and Mr. St. Albyn.
Baritono.-Mr. Weiss.

Bassi Profondi.-Herr Formes and Mr. Henri Drayton.

By this list, you will see, sir, that the principals are English, with long way with the greatest part of the public. Though I daresay there only two exceptions, which, unless I am very much mistaken, goes a are many persons in England who have great objections to a National Opera, I think it must be generally admitted that it would be of great good if it had in view no other end than that of affording such singers as Clara Novello and Sims Reeves an opportunity of displaying their talents in a theatre worthy of them-of giving employment to a certain number of poor fiddlers and half-starved chorus-singers, and last, though by no means least, that of making known the works of many very excellent British composers. And now, sir, I will trouble you no more; pray excuse me having trespassed so much too far on your valuable time, and with my sincere thanks for the obliging manner in which you have always replied to my former enquiries,

S. A. C.

I remain, sir, your obedient servant,
Chambéry en Savoie,
October 18th, 1855.

P.S., Oct. 21st.-I was on the point of sending this to the post when a friend of mine here handed me the Musical World of the 6th inst., bringing the most unexpected intelligence that there is a prospect of an English opera. Such being the case, I have been doubting for the last possibility of the National Opera Fund turning out a failure, I think I few days whether I ought to send you this letter, but as there is just a may venture to trouble you with my prattle.

S. A. C.

[We see no reason for keeping the above communication private. It directly interested, on the establishment of an English opera. With is merely the expression of the honest opinions of an individual, no way large, and would be too expensive. Second.-We see no objection to regard to the queries, we answer: First.-Her Majesty's Theatre is too the disposal of the season. Third.-The days fixed for the performances entirely meet our views. Fourth.-The introduction of foreign as well as native works is inevitable. Fifth.-The list of principals is a good list, but capable of improvement.-ED. M. W.]

* Why then write it? We could not think wasting so much good matter.-ED.

RACHEL AND THE MARSEILLAISE. MADEMOISELLE RACHEL could not resist the universal call of a nation-at least a nation's heart; the metropolis, New York, cried to her with an earnest voice, and appealed to her with an imploring look to sing the "Marseillaise Hymn." She at first refused, on the natural grounds that she was not quite so strong as when she first made the attempt at the Théâtre Français, and that the execution was, at any time, too much for her, and calculated to interfere with her health. Brother Jonathan, however, had heard so much of Rachel's singing of the famous "Marseillaise" that he could not comfortably forego such a treat; and so he went on coaxing and bewailing, until, finally, the great tragédienne was lured into doing that which no amount of money could have induced her to do, and consented to sing the "Marseillaise Hymn."

The singing of the "Marseillaise" by Mdlle. Rachel, as may be imagined, was likely to produce an effect altogether unprecedented, especially at the present moment, when America is, for the moment, indulging in flights of liberality and freedom, too lofty and daring, even for the reddest of red Republicans. This has gone so far, that, in some instances, exceptions are taken to Mdile. Rachel's singing the hymn, on political grounds.

"In the theatrical world," says a New York correspondent, "everyone is influenced by Rachel's singing of the 'Marseillase.' Looking at the fact in a moral point of view, or even in a high artistic point of view, the deed may be held altogether doubtful. Representing the art of a country under the successful sway of an Emperor, is Mdlle. Rachel entitled, even in a republican country, to give vent to those impassioned strains which have broken on the ears of thousands, whilst the blood of the brave and good, of the conspiring and wicked, have flowed in streams? Mdlle. Rachel is the greatest and best embodiment of French art. What is French art without government patronagewithout the fostering finger to raise it, and the smile of regal or imperial approbation to sustain it."

per

This is not quite clear to us; nor can we see why Rachel's performance of the "Marseillaise Hymn" should not be viewed in a purely artistic light, entirely irrespective of political considerations. Should not an audience have faith in the artist and look only to the "immediate" motives of acting? Was not Macready equally inspired with the aristocratic haughtiness of Coriolanus and the democratic humility of Brütus, when he sonated these characters; and must it be assumed, that, because Rachel sings and looks like one inspired while uttering the words and notes of the French hymn, she must, therefore, be a red republican at heart? She may or may not. Her expression on the stage has nothing whatsoever to do with her every-day feelings. It is the effect of genins to enable its possessor to pass from himself into another person, and participate for awhile in all his feelings It was this power that enabled Shakspere to depict Lear and Dogberry in such equally vivid colours; and which renders Rachel so terribly in earnest in such opposite characters as Phèdre and Adrienne Lecouvreur.

The effect produced by Rachel in her singing is thus described in the New York Daily Times :

:

But

"The Marseillaise Hymn' followed the tragedy of Les Horaces, which, for some managerial reason, followed the farce. If the hymn had preceded the tragedy, Madile. Rachel would have had time to recruit her energies in the earlier scenes, where little passion is required. coming, as it did, after the immense physical and mental strain of the denunciation in the fourth act, we can only wonder that Madile. Rachel's strength held out as it did. What shall we say of the hymn itself? Imagine a pale, beautiful woman, quivering with excitement, clasping the tricolour in her nervous hand, and crouched in weakness beneath its sacred folds. Imagine this woman delivering a word-picture. Every suggestion of the language is reflected in her countenance, or visibly telegraphed by her hands. Imagine this in connexion with the words of the Marseillaise,' and you have the best idea we can give you of the performance. Madile. Rachel sings the music of the hymn thoroughly. The effort appeared to cost her some labour, and, doubtless, much of the enthusiasm that would have been elicited under other circumstances was damped by the palpable fatigue of the great tragédienne. At times it was almost painful to witness. If there were any Frenchmen among the great concourse of people who thronged to the Metropolitan last night, they must have blushed to witness the enthusiasm which she

aroused by her inspired tones, when they remembered that this national Frenchmen dared to be free, is proscribed in their native country. It hymn, the only living evidence left that there was once a time when was a genuine triumph for Rachel; and if she could so excite the passions of an American audience by chaunting this glorious hymn, we can well understand the fury of enthusiasm which she caused when she first startled the Parisians, in the height of their revolutionary movements, by her singing of their only song of freedom."

Another journal, if not so complimentary to the vocal powers of Mademoiselle Rachel, is equally forcible in its phraseology, and decided in its opinion, as to the transcendent genius of the actress:

"What was it? Singing? It was nothing less than it was. A hoarse voice, broken, incapable of sustaining the melody of the simplest romance, and utter want of skill in vocalism-such are Rachel's gifts as a songstress. But what could melody have added of that inspired chant of liberty? Melody would have made it a different thing; but how far from being a better? It seemed as if centuries of wrong had turned liberty from an angel to a demon, and that she was possessed of it. She quivered and cried out as the spirit worked its will with her, and made her utter its fierce hatred and fiercer hopes. Death flamed from her eye, and the frantic wave of her hand was like a call to vengeance which millions must rise and answer."

Another extract from the American journals, and we have done. It is from the Tribune, and rushes even into a loftier strain of eulogy than any of its contemporaries :

"The fire of enthusiasm had scarcely subsided, when the curtain rose, and Rachel slowly advanced to the footlights. The tricolor stood on the stage. Silence pervaded the house. In Rachel's simple white classic dress and modesty of attitude there was a touching solemnity. She gazed silently on the audience for some minutes, during which her countenance changed gradually from an expression of melancholy to one of withering scorn. Then suddenly the face was lit up with a look of terrific wrath. A glowing fire of revenge burned fiercely in her dark eyes. From the modest maiden she had sprung into the inspired goddess of liberty, inciting enslaved men to noble deeds. The opening words, 'Allons, enfants de la patrie,' she sang with deep intensity of passion, and beautiful was the touching change in the expression of her countenance from scorn to compassion, as, with one hand pointing to the far distance, she chanted in slow, measured tone, Ils viennent jusque dans vos bras égorger vos fils, etc. But her stature seemed to grow, her veins to swell with blood, as she addressed the imaginary tyrants loudly and boldly in the words,-

Tremblez, vos projets parricides

Vont enfin recevoir leur prix.'

"We can fancy the madness of passion which such an ode chanted by such a woman must have roused in the hearts of the Paris popu lation in the days of revolution. Here it lacked the occasion to give it effect, and did not create so high an enthusiasm as the closing scenes of Horace. It can scarcely be called a song. It is a scene of musical declamation, in which the meaning is conveyed less by power of voice than by intensity of feeling and eloquence of gesture. But, whether we call it song or declamation, it is Rachel's sculptural grace and concentrated power of utterance which keeps us spell-bound."