HE illness of M. Jullien having, with fatal rapidity, terminated in death, it has Tbeen resolved that the donations to the JULLIEN FUND shall be applied in the manner which would have been most in consonance with the wishes of the deceased, had it been permitted him to express them, viz., to the relief of his widow and family, who, by his loss, are left totally unprovided for. Committee for the distribution of the Jullien Fund. Mr. John Mitchell; Mr. W. R. Sams; Mr. Thomas Chappell; Mr. W. Duncan Davison; Mr. Jules Benedict; Mr. A. Blumenthal. Honorary Treasurers. Mr. John Mitchell, 33, Old Bond-street; Mr. Thomas Chappell, 50, New Bondstreet; Mr. W. R. Sams, 1, St. James's-street. Bankers, Messrs. Coutts and Co., Strand; Heywood, Kennards, and Co., Lombard-street; London and County Bank, Hanover-square-who, as well as the Honorary Treasurers, have kindly consented to receive subscriptions. NOTICE. THE MUSICAL WORLD may be obtained direct from the Office, 28, ance. ... 2s. 6d. Os. 6d. THE MUSICAL WORLD. LONDON, SATURDAY, APRIL 14TH, 1860. DOES legitimate Italian opera border on dissolution?—is a question which must have presented itself frequently of late to those who regard the subject as one of no little importIf Italian opera goes, the art of singing, distinguished from that of vocal declamation, must go with it. There are some who maintain that such a catastrophe would in no way affect the interests of music in an intellectual sense, and that the great masters would retain their influence just the same if the vocal art, from the earlier Italian point of view, were irretrievably lost. We cannot agree either with their 160 premiss or deduction. s. d. 0 16 0 0 16 6 0 16 6 1 12 0 The return of country subscriptions has not yet been received, but will be shortly advertised. ONE SHILLING SUBSCRIPTION. It is notorious that those who have been nurtured in the Italian school of singing are also the best interpreters of the classic German models, and equally so that the voices of the 1 18 Italians of the last and preceding generations were more enduring, and preserved their vigour and freshness far longer, than those of the present age. Not to travel, however, from our own time, compare Alboni's execution of the airs in Figaro and Don Giovanni with that of any singer whose youth and adolescence have been chiefly devoted to the operas of Signor Verdi. The one is even, flowing, wellbalanced, natural, and expressive-artistically faultless, in a word; while the other, with here and there a fine point, springing from the successful embodiment of a happy impulse, is unequal, anti-rhythmical, strained, and conThe existence of such manifest disparity between singers, perhaps equally endowed by nature, leads to a consideration of its origin. Why does Alboni sing "Batti, batti," "Voi che sapete," all the airs, in short, of Zerlina and Cherubino to absolute perfection, while Madame or Mademoiselle with real genius, artistic fire, and a voice Books to receive names are now placed at Mr. Hammond's (late Jullien's), 214, Regent-street; Messrs. Cramer's, 201, Regent-street; Messrs. Baily Brothers, Cornhill; Messrs Parkins and Gotto's, 24, Oxford-street; Mr. Pask's, Lowther arcade; Messrs. Keith. Prowse, & Co's., 48, Cheapside; Mr. Bignell's, Argyll rooms, Deposit Bauk, Leicester-square; Sunday Times Office; Messrs. Boosey & Sons, Holles-street; Mr. Austin, St. James's-hall; Duncan Davison and Co., 244, Regent-street; and at the principal music shops throughout the country. The doors open at eight, the Opera commences at half-past eight o'clock. First appearance of Malle. Csillag, Thursday next, April 19, will be given as a Subscription Night in lieu of the last Tuesday of the season, on which occasion will be performed, for the first time these five years, Beethoven's celebrated opera, FIDELIO. Leonora, Mdlle. Csillag (her first appearance in England. Tuesday, April 17th, and during the week, will be performed a favorite English Opera, supported by the following eminent Artists:-Miss Dyer. Miss Emma Heywood, &c., &c. Messrs. Henry Haigh, Melchor Winter, Salvie, Borrani, Thompson, and Charles Durand, and a Band and Chorus of 100 performers. success, the performance will conclude each evening with a petite ballet comique by Flexmore. entitled THE SPANISH DANCERS; or, Two too many. In the course of the bailet, pas by Mdlle. Auriol and Mr. Flexmore, and the grand corps de ballet; Bolero, Malle. Auriol and Flexmore; Valse, by the Spanish Dancers; Zapateodo, by Mdlle. Auriol and Flexmore, and the corps de ballet of this Theatre. Conductor and Musical Director, Dr. JAMES PECH. In consequence of its great Stage Manager, Mr. James Martin; Ballet Master, Mr. Flexmore: Treasurer, Mr. Lewis. Reduced Prices.-Stalls, 48.; dress circle, 3s.; first circle, 2s. 6d. ; pit, 2s.; upper boxes, 1s. 6d,; gallery, 1s.; upper gallery, 6d.; private boxes from 10s. 6d. upwards. The box office, under the direction of Mr. Nugent, open daily. vulsive. as beautiful in quality, and wealthy in tone, as it is extended in register, comparatively fails? The only inference to be drawn is, that one has learned to sing by the proper method, and has exercised herself in the proper music, while the other, with all her magnificent endowments, has done neither. The method was the Italian method, the music, the music of Rossini and his immediate predecessors. So that even those one-sided thinkers, who refuse to see the extraordinary musical merit of Rossini's purest Italian operas, must perforce admit that, as a means towards a most desirable end, they are indispensable. Rossini's florid music has done the same thing for Italians as Handel's bravura songs (which have as frequently been condemned by prejudiced critics) did for our own greatest singers, from the time when Handel wrote Italian operas to rivalled excellence is attributable to his constant practice in that of our own Sims Reeves, a great part of whose unHandel's florid airs. But where did Handel obtain this particular secret of his art ?-during his travels in Italy, of course, and from the Italian singers whom, from time to time, he brought over from Italy, to aid him in that enter prise which, though it resulted in his temporary commercial ruin, was a powerful auxiliary towards the attainment of that excellence which ultimately left him without a rival. We must be careful, too, while rejecting altogether one side Rossini's art, not to fall into the error of Herr Wagner, whose Art-work of the Future supports the paradox that music cannot exist independently. If we are never to look for anything in vocal music but the natural expression of words (as in a great measure did Gluck), we clip off one of its wings. Music can be occasionally a minister, but never a slave; and it may be accepted as certain that one reason why Gluck set up his intolerant theory was a consciousness within him of not being sufficiently a master to invent such music as would delight on its own account, without reference to words or even to situations music conceived and realised exclusively of all conditions but such as regulate its own plan, development, and symmetrical proportions as independent art-work. Whether this privilege of creating absolute forms and varieties of forms for itself should be denied a composer for the voice, while it is unanimously (the dogma of Herr Wagner is an exception which the more firmly establishes the rule) granted to a composer for instruments, is worth an argument. We hold such a binding of the musician to his words to be as cruel and tyrannical as the fastening of Ixion to his wheel. It is also unnatural, inasmuch as it prevents the free play of the musician's fancy, and thus deprives the world of one-half the rich gifts he would have it in his power to bestow. There is a great difference between violating expression and multiplying its resources. Mozart might have set "Una voce poco fa" in a very different style from Rossini, and yet both have been truly natural and expressive. We will go even so far as to say that the florid mode of expression, when skilfully used, is just as legitimate as any other; and that Handel, when he set "Rejoice greatly," set it in the florid style, as most appropriate to the sentiment of the text he had to illustrate. And if the voice is to be deprived of this peculiar medium of display, why accord it to instruments? Why tolerate "passages" (socalled) in concertos and sonatas, for the violin or pianoforte? When Beethoven lays out an ordinary chord, in arpeggios, from one end of the keyboard to the other, it is quite true that what he has to say would be all expressed if the harmony were simply struck at once; but his aim was to convey it in a brilliant and peculiar manner, and this was only to be effected by the device to which he had recourse. Mozart, too, in many of his airs (for example those awarded to one of the supernatural personages in Die Zauberflöte-Astriaffamente, Queen of Night) resorts to the same appliance with similar consistency and the like success. Half the art of early Italian vocalists consisted in their florid exhibitions; and though often, we are aware, absurd, or employed illogically (and therefore ineffectively), they have as often revealed to us what the musician had to conveys by means of his art, far more completely than could have been accomplished through any other expedient. That the sentiment belonging to the verbal text of "Una voce or "Di piacer" could have been more felicitously expressed than by Rossini we are wholly indisposed to admit. In their way these songs are just as perfect as those of Zerlina and Cherubino. But if this one side of Rossini's art had only tended to educate singers (like Handel's florid music), and enabled them to continue singing, year after year, without disparage. ment to their voices, it would possess sufficient claims not merely to respect but to admiration. These things it has effected; and what is more (as we have hinted), by giving the singer a ready and invariable command of his resources, has made him a more thorough master of styles, from the florid bravura to the simply expressive, than he could otherwise possibly have been. With these strong convictions we are disposed to view with alarm the phase through which the Italian vocal art is passing (a phase of transition we may hope-but transition to what better state?) The art of singing is no longer taught in Italy; and now even in this vast city of London, where the Italian Opera has flourished for a century and a-half, it seems impossible to obtain a company of Italian singers, or to compose a repertory of Italian music. Look at our two great houses, this year. On the first night, at Her Majesty's Theatre, the opera was by a Russian composer, the prima donna was a German, the seconda donna a Belgian, and the primo basso (why do we employ the Italian idiom?) a Frenchman; at the Royal Italian Opera, on the same occasion, the opera was by a German, while the prima donna and primo basso-barytono were both French. What is threatened at Her Majesty's Theatre in a short time, is more extraordinary-viz., Semiramide, the most essentially Italian opera seria by the most essentially Italian composer, with four out of the five principal characters sustained by non-Italians: Semiramide, by a German (Fraulein Titiens); Assur, by a Belgian (M. Evrard); Ìdreno, by a Spaniard (Senor Belart); and Oroe, by a Frenchman (Monsieur Viallette). still Nevertheless, though vita brevis, ars longa est, and, as Cardanus was not the first or the last to say, it " moves in a circle." PANURGE, whom we left inside a terrestrial globe, rolling about the gardens of the Royal Grecian, in the City-road, had not been heard of for several days, and Pantagruel was consequently in a state of great uneasiness. For, in spite of those accessions of violence that, on account of his enormous strength, were productive of great inconvenience to his friends, Pantagruel was really the tenderest-hearted creature in the world. at the "Edinburgh Castle," with Epistemon; and the two At about ten o'clock one evening, he was sitting in a box exchanged their lamentations in such dismal sort, that John the waiter swore that he felt as melancholy as if he were witnessing the comic business of an ordinary Christmas pantomime. "Why have I lost thee, dear dreg of humanity?" cried Panurge. "Foul blot on the sphere of blotting-paper that men call earth! why art thou effaced?" wailed Epistemon. "Vile fount of platitudes!" murmured Pantagruel. "Base spoiler of Latinity!" groaned Epistemon. "Worthless alike to thyself and to everyone else! why dost thou belie the proverb, which teaches us that 'nought is never in danger'?" sighed Pantagruel. While they thus bitterly bewailed the loss of their friend, who should pop into the room but Panurge himself, looking marvellously fresh and well-favoured. Placing himself in the middle of the room, with both his arms a-kimbo, and his hat cocked a little on one side, he at once fired off the whole of an English version of the second elegy of Propertius:Why dost thou, dear life, thus adorn thy hair? Why that flutt'ring Coan garment wear? Why upon thy head pouring Syrian scent, Near the river's bank, where her father died- When she lur'd her Pelops to the race, (In Apelles' girls the hue we see). These sought not the love of a flatt'ring crowd, Sparkling gems of wit decorate thy speech, The above infliction having come to an end, much to the relief of Pantagruel and Epistemon, Panurge proceeded: "And now, how art thou, most worshipful of masters? and thou most detestable of companions?-also, John the Blond— in short, how are ye all, mes bons averlans? I have something to tell ye that will provoke more mirth than an Easter burlesque-which, by the way, is not saying much. Listen, attend, and be edified." Hereupon Pantagruel and Epistemon assumed an attitude of the deepest attention, each placing his two fists so as to make a sort of tower on the table, resting his chin on the one that was above, and compressing his lips to the utmost. John, on the other hand, kept his mouth wide open, as though wisdom was rather imbibed by the gullet than by the ears-an hypothesis by no means untenable, when we consider the number of dull dogs, who become so many jets of wit and learning as soon as their intellects have been bathed and refreshed by distilled liquids. Clearing his throat, with much pomp, Panurge began thus: "There is what they call leads" "Now, by the sausages of Bigorre, Longaulnay, la Bresse, and Ronargue, whereon my grandfather Grandgousier used largely to feed," said Pantagruel, "that is the vilest beginning of a discourse I ever heard." "There is what they call leads!" ejaculated Epistemon, with disgust written on his face; "I' faith I hold thy verse in the greatest contempt, but it is a thing of surpassing beauty, a perfect chrysolite, when I compare it to thy prose. Thou makest a pretty hash of Propertius; body o' me! what would'st thou effect didst thou undertake the translation of Tully? Read the Theatrical Journal I say, man-read the Theatrical Journal, and improve thy style." "But," argued Panurge, "if I said balcony I should be wrong" "Then abstain therefrom," said Pantagruel. "Who the devil wants thee to say balcony?" "It is a word," remarked Epistemon, "that affordeth no particular joy to the ear." "Seeing," persisted Panurge, "that it is not a balcony, but only a leads." "A leads!" shouted Pantagruel and Epistemon in a common chord of indignation. "Pardon, me, gentlemen," observed John the waiter, stepping forward with great humility," but I think that ‘a leads' is quite right. We often say in our business that a party has taken a wine-vaults; so I don't see why another party mayn't walk upon a leads." "Thou hast high authority in thy favour, Master Panurge," said Pantagruel. "Proceed." "Well," resumed Panurge, "I found myself this evening on the leads of a large house, where I could stroll at my ease, and peep through the windows of the first-floor." They call that eaves-dropping," observed Epistemon sternly. "Do they? Then they call it wrong," pertly rejoined Panurge, "for there was no dropping and there were no eaves. Now, in one of the rooms, Amphitryon was giving a dinner to divers high and honourable persons. I should forewarn thee that there is not in the world a better or more good-natured fellow than this same Amphitryon, nor any one who more delighteth to scatter joy and contentment around him. Hence, though he is a man deservedly prosperous, his prosperity is a cause rather of rejoicing than of envy, which in this unloving world is saying a great deal." "I know whom thou meanest," said Pantagruel, “and truly I wish him success in his new undertaking." With these words he raised his tumbler to his lips, in which action he was imitated by Epistemon. "Well, there was Amphitryon at the head of the table," continued Panurge, and there were the three Anabaptists, and there was Septimius Acer, and there was the Mingrelian Ambassador, and there was Lud the son of Porrex." "A goodly society in truth," said Pantagruel, with great admiration. "And goodly viands were set before them," replied Panurge, licking his lips. "I verily believe I should have been tempted to burst through the window, and partake, uninvited, of the repast, had I not armed myself against the unruly solicitations of appetite, by filling my pockets with periwinkles.” "I have often thought," observed Epistemon, "that the periwinkle was given to us as a fortress against the intrusion of carnal affections. For, look ye, your periwinkle may not be irreverently and carelessly devoured. Held firmly between the thumb and forefinger of the left hand, it must be coaxed craftily yet resolutely from the recesses of its shell; for it is a retiring creature, and often, by its very coyness, eludeth the vigilance of the dainty. I have seen a student of the Green-coat school-a promising student, too-throw away two or even three periwinkle-shells on the supposition that they were empty, whereas, as I myself afterwards discovered, to my own infinite profit and enjoyment, the periwinkles had merely withdrawn themselves from the reach of his weapon. Nor, when thou hast removed that little particle of shell, that is so uninviting to the eye, and firmly lodged thy harpoon in the head of the fish, or as G. H. Lewes would call it, the mollusc, is thy reason for solicitude at an end. If, intoxicated with the pride of thy victory, thou drawest out the prize with a sudden jerk, ten to one but thou secureth the head only, which is a tough flavourless morsel, and leavest behind the tail which is a feast for Apicius.' "Ay," interposed John, approvingly, smacking his lips, and winking with the air of a profound connoisseur. "As I said before," continued Epistemon, "the periwinkle must be coaxed craftily yet resolutely from its shell. Hence, when you learn that a man is a great eater of periwinkles, you may infer that he is also a man of purpose and circumspection. It is clear that the intricate process I have essayed to describe, demands that mental abstraction which renders extremely difficult the intrusion of irrelevant desires. Therefore, were I a painter (which, thank heaven, I am not, for your great painter is the most obtuse of mortals)—and did I take for my subject the Temptation of Saint Antony, I would certainly represent that great ascetic extracting a periwinkle with a pin. More over" "Shut up thy d―d twaddle, and let him get on with his story!" thundered Pantagruel, with such vehemence that Epistemon shrank into the semblance of the mollusc whereon he had been discoursing. "Well," proceeded Panurge, "before the party had got through the first course, poor Amphitryon felt so much indisposed that he quitted the room, [Here Pantagruel and Epistemon both groaned with sympathy.] "Good," exclaimed Pantagruel, "thy very dull and pointless tale, which I thank the gods, has reached its conclusion, showeth how thou hast passed the present evening. But what hast thou done with thyself since the moment when I first, in my just indignation, hurled thee from the window, encased in a terrestrial globe? "Ah! my master," said Panurge, with a heavy sigh, "thou referrest to a wonderful and sublime secret whereon there should be no light discourse. What I thought and what befell me while I was shut up in that strange sphere, and how I got out of it, shall be told in some secret place, to which the ears of the profane have no access. Truly thou hast not heard anything so pregnant with deep meaning, since the date of those incidents that were embodied by Augustus Mayhew and Sutherland Edwards in the Goose with the Golden Eggs." WE have not, for years, written an article on that once favourite subject the decline of the drama, and we have a great mind to write one now. The theories about the said decline are of course well known, but so are plenty of other things that are reproduced from time to time in the newspapers. A few authors who can always get their pieces accepted, a few actors who are never without an engagement, a few successful managers (there are not many) settle the question by saying that there has been no decline at all, and remind us that a large proportion of our dramatists have always gone to foreign sources for their plots; and that even in the days of Kean and Kemble spectacular pieces, and of a very absurd kind, drew more money than the finest tragedies of Shakspere. Then, the decline being admitted, there is the pleasant dispute as to whether we might not reasonably expect to have a higher class of dramatists if we had better actors, or rather better companies of actors; or whether it is not simply because we have no great dramatic authors that our players find it impossible to interest the public in the higher kind of drama. Moreover, there is the lateness of the modern dinner-hour to be considered, which, if it scarcely allows the subscribers to the Royal Italian "Aye," said Epistemon, "as Montaigne remarketh, 'Nous Opera to get to their boxes by half-past eight without rensommes mieulx en la compagnie d'un chien cogneu, qu'en celle d'un homme duquel le langage nous est incogneu.'" "leaving the party in a strange state of anarchy-for the Mingrelian Ambassador could only discourse in one of the Caucasian dialects-the three Anabaptists talked exclusively to one another, indulging in bursts of mirth, expressive of no hilarity but their own-and Lud, the son of Porrex, was neither versed in Caucasian lore, nor had he been initiated into Anabaptistic mysteries. Therefore you may conceive that the departure of Amphitryon was as the removal of the sun from the solar system-a removal that would not only cause darkness, but destroy that centripetal attraction which binds the system together. Truly I was affected almost to weeping, when I saw the Mingrelian Ambassador and Lud, the son of Porrex, sitting opposite to each other, full of high thoughts and sublime aspirations, and yet wholly unable to exchange them because they had neither community of speech nor philanthropic dragoman to hurl down the barrier by which they were separated." "That is going too far," said Panurge; "for as I have said before, the food and the drink were of the best, in every way worthy of the known hospitality of Amphitryon, and he who could not talk might solace himself with his plate and his glass. But to proceed; one of the Anabaptists, prompted by ambition, seized for a while on the throne left vacant by the departure of Amphitryon, yet so little pleasure did he find in the task of government, that he also retired, though all were perfectly content with his sway, and there was not the remotest prospect of a revolution. Afterwards departed Lud, the son of Porrex, having discoursed with no living soul, but having remained immersed in his own meditations on the instability of human governments. Then departed the Mingrelian Ambassador, whereupon the two remaining Anabaptists, refreshing themselves anew with costly drinks and expensive cigars, discoursed at such amazing length about the Eleusinian mysteries and the deities of Samothrace, that Septimius Acer, who is of a smart and lively temperament, wished them at all the devils. While things were in this state, an orange flew out of an adjoining window and hit me so smartly upon the head that I fell from the leads into the street, whereby my power of observation was brought to an end, and I betook myself hitherto." dering them liable to an attack of indigestion, would not permit the same class of persons to reach the Haymarket Theatre at seven except on condition of going there with empty stomachs. Again, if we proposed to write an article on the present state of the drama in England, we should have to say something about the superior attractiveness of opera as compared with all other theatrical entertainments, and we should probably point out to the reader that the three largest playhouses in London are at the present moment devoted to operatic performances. Perhaps, too, we should reply, by anticipation, to a curious fiction invented a few years since about the revival of the British Stage at the large theatres of Whitechapel and Shoreditch, and the advent of theatrical stars from the East-end; and we should show that there, also, the drama has already found a formidable rival in Opera and that at the Pavilion and the Standard the works of English and even of Italian composers have been presented with remarkable success. Having agreed with our readers as to the fact that opera finds more and the drama fewer patrons every year, we should inquire into the causes thereof; and one of these, which lies on the surface, we will now proceed in a straightforward way, and in as few words as possible, to indicate. It is simply this: At the Opera two tenors and two prima donnas, each and all of the highest preten sions, and of genuine merit, consent without hesitation, and, as a matter of course, to appear in the same work; whereas at a dramatic theatre two tragic actors or two tragic actresses could not, under any circumstances, be induced to appear together in the same play. At the opera this truly artistic principle appears to be recognised—that in a masterpiece, such as Don Giovanni for instance, no part is great or small, but that all are admirable and worthy of being impersonated by singers of the highest genius. If actors would also understand this, anyone who was present at the performance given a fortnight since at Covent Garden for the benefit of the Dramatic College must feel that there would be no difficulty in arranging such perfect representatives of our finest plays that the trouble would be not to fill the theatre at which they took place, but simply to find places for the audience Whatever may be the true cause or causes of the decline of the drama, we have to thank Messrs. Sams, Creswick and Jerwood, for proving very clearly, by the number of excellent performers they succeeded in bringing together within the walls of Covent Garden, that it at all events cannot be attributed to a sheer want of histronic talent. ROYAL ITALIAN OPERA. THE theatre re-opened on Tuesday evening, with a very different aspect from that which it presented during the temporary reign of English Opera. Indeed, two theatres could hardly offer more distinct appearances than Covent Garden under Mr. Gye, and Covent Garden under Miss Louisa Pyne and Mr. W. Harrison. The opera was Meyerbeer's Dinorah, to use the English title; Le Pardon de Ploërmel, the French; or, Il Pellegrinaggio, the Italian. Last year, Dinorah brought the season to a triumphant conclusion, and having been given six times only was no doubt looked for by the subscribers and the public, more especially as Madame Miolan-Carvalho was again to be the heroine. The cast differed from that of last year in two important instances-M. Faure filling the part of Hoel (vice Signor Graziani), and Mdlle. Giudita Sylvia that of the male Goatherd (vice Madame Nantier-Didiée). M. Faure was an improvement; not so, Mdlle. Sylvia. M. Faure, who succeeded M. Battaille at the Opéra-Comique in Paris, as Peters in Meyerbeer's Etoile du Nord, speedily won the favour of the public. So satisfied was Meyerbeer, that he wrote the part of Hoel expressly for M. Faure, who more than confirmed the impression made by his previous impersonation. Italian barytones being scarce, the director of the Royal Italian Opera was naturally anxious to secure the services of so admirable an actor and singer, to strengthen the cast of a work which was so eminently successful last season. Mr. Gye engaged M. Faure not merely for Hoel, but to undertake the repertory never officially represented since Tamburini abandoned the stage. That the French barytone is an accomplished artist there is no question. His voice, powerful and of unusual compass, is equally telling throughout its register. His expression is intense and varied, and his method undeniably good. He is, indeed, a greater master of his resources than most singers of his class; his shake is admirable, and his facility equal to all demands. If M. Faure's voice has not the sympathetic quality of Signor Graziani's, it is more than counterbalanced by superior acquirements as a singer and actor. A more striking performance than that of M. Faure, in Hoel, we have not witnessed a long time on the operatic stage. If we desired to be hypercritical, we might adduce an occasional tendency to exaggeration-as in the romance, "Sei vendicata assai"-which, after all, belongs to the school rather than to the singer individually. Mad. Miolan-Carvalho is more admirable than ever in Dinorah; more vocally finished-the result of having made herself mistress of the acoustic properties of the house, and adapting her voice to its requirements, and as histrionically perfect (she could not be more perfect). There is no need to describe Mad. Carvalho's performance in detail. Enough that all the old points were given with the same facility and the waltz movement of the "Shadow Song" (magnificently executed) was encored with acclamations. The new contralto, Mdlle. Giudita Sylvia, was evidently too nervous to do herself justice. That she possesses a good voice, we believe; but beyond this we can say nothing. Her appearance is decidedly prepossessing. for the female Goat-herd-Mdlle. Marai's part last season-not Another new singer, Mdlle. Ruppazini, who was announced having put in an appearance, the duet, "Sui prati tutt' in fiori,” in the last act, was omitted, by no means an improvement; while the "Pater noster" was utterly ruined by the inefficiency of two chorus singers, to whom were allotted the parts sustained last season by Mdile. Marai and Madame Nantier-Didiée. Signor Tagliafico was never at his ease in the hunter's song, that of the Mower. But these and worse drawbacks would have while Signor Neri-Baraldi was less successful than formerly in been more than atoned for by the excellence of the rest, not forgetting the absolute perfection of the orchestra, under Mr. Costa's direction. Dinorah was repeated on Thursday, and will be given for the third time to-night; and on Thursday next Mdlle. Rosa Czillag makes her first appearance as Leonora in Fidelio. HER MAJESTY'S THEATRE. the direction of Mr. E. T. Smith. Great changes and improve- Champs. The cast of the opera, with one exception (Madame In the divertissement, the goddess was Mdlle. Pocchini, one of Pleiad. With such a dancer there is a chance of resuscitating the most favoured daughters of Terpsichore-the last, not lost, the ballet, but the new lessee does not seem inclined to turn his attention that way-or will not see that further "steps" be taken. Mamo as Leonora, and Signor Everardi as Alfonso-the first |