ONE SHILLING SUBSCRIPTION. Regent-street; Messrs. Cramer's, 201, Regent-street; Messrs. Baily Brothers, Sona, Holles-street; Mr. Austin, St. James's Hall; Duncan Davison and Co., 244, HE ER MAJESTY'S THEATRE.-This evening (Saturday), first appearance of Malle. Marie Brunetti in RIGOLETTO; also the eminent danseuse, Mdile. Clavelle. On Tuesday next will be performed for the first time, between the acts of the opera, a new and original ballet, in three tableaux, by Signor Borri, and produced under his personal superintendence, entitled SCINTILLA. Principal characters by Mdlle. Pocchini, Malle. Moncelot, Mdlle. Morlacchi, Mdlle. Bioletti, M. George, and M. Durand. On Thursday next, SEMIRAMIDE. Arsace, Madame Alboni (her first appearance this season); Assur, Signor Vialetti; Idreno, Signor Belart; Oroe, Signor Vialetti; and Semira mide, Mdile. Titiens (her first appearance in that character). Conductor-Signor Arditi. Box-office open daily from 10 to 6. HER MAJESTY'S THEATRE-First Night ROYAL ITALIAN OPERA, COVENT GARDEN. Night of FRA DIAVOLO. On Tuesday next, May 15, for the second time this season, Auber's Comic Opera FRA DIAVOLO. Principal characters by Madame Miolan-Carvalho, Mdlle. Corbari, Signori On Thursday next, May 17, for the second time this season, Mozart's opera Principal characters by Madame Grisi, Mdlle. Csillag, Madame Penco (her second appearance this season), Signori Gardoni, Ronconi, Tagliafico, Polonini, and Mario. First Night of LA GAZZA LADRA. First appearance of Mdlle. Didiée. LA GAZZA LADRA. Ninetta, Madame Penco (her first appearance in that character); Lucia, Madame Tagliafico; Pippo, Mdlle. Didiée (her first appearance this season); Podesta, Signor Ronconi; Fernando, M. Faure (his first appearance in that character); Fabrizio, Signor Tagliafico; Isacco, Signor Lucchesi; Georgio, Signor Polonini; Antonia, Signor Rossi; and Gianneto, Signor Gardoni. Conductor-Mr. COSTA. The Opera commences at half-past 8. Pit tickets, 7s. ; amphitheatre stalls, 78. and 5s.; amphitheatre, 2s. 6d. A GRAND MORNING CONCERT will take place in the New Floral Hall, on Wednesday, May 30, commencing at 2 o'clock. Full particulars will be duly announced. NOTICE. ... ... ... 2s. 6d. THE MUSICAL WORLD may be obtained direct from the Office, 28, THE MUSICAL WORLD. LONDON, SATURDAY, MAY 12TH, 1860. THE cantata of Christmas (produced for the first time at the last concert of the Musical Society of London*), will undoubtedly add to the high reputation already enjoyed by its composer, whose May-Day (originally produced at the *Wednesday, May 9th. Bradford Festival of 1856) created so lively an impression 2nd Choir."The trees lift up their branches bare Through the keen and nipping air, For spring's return they seem to cry, About them sadly moan." Whereupon the advocates of the frosty period retort :- They dart their light from every tree, The At the conclusion of this Penillion-like contest, the opponent minstrels chime together-in song, at least, if not in sentiment : 2nd Choir.-" Come in, and closely shut the door Of frost and snow we'll think no more, 1st Choir.-"Rush out from every cottage door, A madder throng ne'er met before, Than those who now have come together." The music expresses with great felicity the contending feelings suggested by the words-the strains allotted to the proselytes of winter being as energetic and jovial as those in which its detractors give vent to their antipathy are lugubrious. This fine choral introduction is succeeded by a recitative and romance for soprano, "Welcome blest season' -an apostrophe to Christmas, the general tone and purport of which may be gathered from the opening lines of the second division: "Christmas comes; and friends that long have parted Gladly seek the old familiar door." The soft and soothing character of this piece is in thorough keeping, and rarely have the endearing associations connected with the subject been wedded to more graceful melody. The romance gives way to the famous old English "carol,” first given in unison by the chorus; then with harmony, on which two sections of the choir are engaged, while the other two sing the tune; and lastly, in combination with a new subject, in a different measure, allotted to the orchestra, the theme of the "carol" being sustained by the entire choir as The effect of all this is as fresh and vigorous a plain song. as the contrivance is masterly. The next division consists of a "Christmas tale”—for contralto solo, with chorus— "A bleak and kindless morning had broke on Althenay, duced a most effective and exhilarating climax to a comWhere, shunning Danish foemen, the good King Alfred lay." This is built upon the story of King Alfred, on the eve national sense; the thoroughly English tone which he has position that does him equal credit in an artistic and a of a victory over the Danes, relinquishing his last loaf of maintained from first to last-while only interpolating one bread in favour of a mendicant pilgrim-and is so admirably existing melody (the "carol")-being no less worthy of treated in the poem, that had we space we should be tempted admiration than its abstract musical beauties, or the ingeto cite it in extenso. We must be content, however, to add nious contrivance and successful treatment for which it is that the music is worthy of the poetry, and that in the in- everywhere remarkable. A question might be legitimately troductory recitatives the imitation of the old English style raised as to whether, when-the subject-matter being national of melody-which, by the way, is a prevalent and character--the aim of a composer is to preserve a strictly national istic feature of the whole cantata-is here most signally feeling, the point of view should be, invariably and as a successful. The burden, at the termination of each verse,sine quá non, taken from the English melody of between two The heavenly King who reigns on high and three centuries ago? No one will deny that the Bless him who hears the poor man's cry," Italians, French, and Germans, have a national style of music at the present time; and yet Rossini, Auber, and Weber-who may fairly be accepted as types of their respective nationalities-have little or nothing in common with their harmonious ancestors of ages back. Christmas is as appropriate to the nineteenth as to the sixteenth century; and Mr. Oxenford might with quite as much justice have parodied the vernacular of Spenser and Jonson as Mr. Macfarren the melody that prevailed in the time of Elizabeth, or during that which succeeded the Restoration. We are bound to add that in Christmas this imitation of the elder melody is not slavishly done, and that several numbers-instance the romance (for soprano), the song about King Alfred (for contralto), and the charming duet for women's voiceswhile quite as English as the rest, are the unquestionable inspirations of an Englishman, by the side of whom even Sir Roger de Coverly would figure as an ancient. But in his Nothing can be more unaffected and spontaneous than the choruses, Mr. Macfarren seems to have considered it indismusic to which Mr. Macfarren has wedded this duet. The pensable to seek his tune at the same well as his forefathers. finale-in chorus throughout-represents a festive celebration Were we not convinced that this gentleman is one of the of the Christmas day's amusements, the various incidents few capable of writing music, neither Italian, French, nor that makes up the sum of its substantial cheer and innocent German, nor even a mixture of the three, but purely English, sports being successively portrayed in brief and appropriate and at the same time English of the period in which we terms. The mistletoe, with its envied privileges, is, of course, indeed from any critical objection, satisfied with awarding live, we should have refrained from these remarks, and not overlooked. Here the chorus again assumes the anti-well-earned praise to a composition of distinguished merit phonal form, the first choir giving a (useless) warning: first delivered by the solo voice, and then echoed, in full harmony, by the chorus-has something analogous to the response of the people in Mendelssohn's Elijah (Part I.), when the prophet petitions for rain, the serene loveliness of which, however, it modestly emulates, without in the slightest degree being open to the charge of plagiarism. An exquisite little duet for women's voices-"Little children, all rejoice"agreeably contrasts with the foregoing. The words remind us that to manhood the enjoyment of to-day may be checkered with anxious thoughts for the morrow, while, to childhood, the happiness of the moment is all in all, tempered by no sad experience, weakened by no conflicting doubt. The contrast is well presented in the last four lines : "There is not a joy so true, But we dread its change to sorrow; Having days without a morrow." "Nay, be cautious, gentle maid, And he'll keep it, we're afraid." To which the second choir emphatically retorts by repudiating And when they fail how merry is the shout! Urchins sit-an anxious crew; Dainties rich the bold invite, While from the fire the timid shrink with fright. "Tis merry now in the vaulted hall. The mistletoe is over head, The holly flaunts its berries red, The wassail-bowl goes gaily round, Our mirth awakes the echoes round, All eyes are bright, all hearts are gay, and originality. The performance on the whole was remarkable-considering that the work had only the benefit of a single rehearsal (a fact, by the way, of which the Musical Society of London, while professing so much, has no reason to brag). Sainton were all the composer could possibly have The principal singers-Madames Lemmens Sherrington and desired, both in their solos and in their duet. The band, too, under Mr. Alfred Mellon, as usual, did wonders; but the chorus was by no means as efficient as might have been wished on such an occasion as the first public trial of a new and important work by an English composer. The audience, however, thoroughly delighted with the music, were not merely indulgent but enthusiastic in their applause. There is, indeed, every reason to believe that this performance will prove the forerunner of others, and that Christmas is destined to add one more to the brief catalogue of lasting musical works which our national repertory can bcast. Ir was exactly a quarter past ten by the clock of the Edinburgh Castle, when in walked Panurge, with a thick book under his arm, looking so wondrously important, that even Pantagruel involuntarily touched his hat at his approach, and Epistemon bowed his head with reverence. In setting this concluding scene, Mr. Macfarren has pro- for John the Waiter, he executed an Oriental salam. As "I am going," said Panurge, "to write a comedy.” Oh, is that all," said Pantagruel, cocking his hat on one side, and looking as insolent as possible, to compensate for his involuntary act of humility, while Epistemon took a pinch of snuff, and John the Waiter perked up his head, as if he thought himself a great deal better than his company. "And mark," proceeded Panurge, not a whit daunted, "my comedy shall be original-ay, British original,-and it shall have a title such as no one hath ever devised. Yes, my comedy shall be called Borough-English; or, last come first served." Truly," said Pantagruel, restoring his hat to its normal position, "thy title is recondite and conceited." "I like the humour of it much," observed Epistemon," while John the Waiter took up an empty tumbler, and, slowly cleansing it, listened to Panurge with almost idolatrous attention. "Look ye, how I fashion my fable," continued Panurge, I have a designing Yorkshire mother." "Hast thou, indeed ?" said Epistemon. "I mean I introduce such a personage in the play," said Panurge. "Now this designing Yorkshire mother contriveth that her daughter, Callirhoe, shall be engaged to the eldest son of a wealthy man of Kent, deceased before the commencement of the fable." "Then she hath her way," observed Epistemon, "and, snapping her wicked fingers to the multitude, she may say :Populus me sibilat; at mihi plaudo, Ipsa domi; simul ac nummos contempla in arca,' or she may place her thumb on her nose and extend her little finger, a form of mockery that, as perhaps thou knowest, correspondeth to the antique indignities enumerated by Persius, when he saith: 'O Jane! a tergo quem nulla ciconia pinsit, Nee manus auriculas imitata est mobilis albas, Nec linguæ, quantum sitiat Canis Appula, tantum.'" Ay, ay," cried Panurge, "but this vile woman of Murcia, whom I pelt with the whole first satire of Horace, having first reduced the same into peas of wit, to be shot through the shooter of intellect,this base Yorkshire mother shall find the truth of that sound maxim of Publius Syrus (the pet author, as thou knowest, of the Entr'Acte) 'Cito improborum læta ad perniciem cadunt." "Which,” remarked Pantagruel, with much affability, "is thus Hellenized by Joseph Scaliger: · ὡς εἰς κακὸν πίπτουσιν αἱ κακῶν τύχαι.” "For mark you," resumed Panurge," when she hath irrevocably bound her daughter to the man of Kent, she shall discover that the lands of the aforesaid man are subject to the ancient law of gavelkind, and that therefore he is compelled to divide his estate with his thirteen brothers." "Gavelkind," murmured John the Waiter to himself, with intense respect, while a conveyancer's clerk, who had been devouring a chop with much vulgar noise, moved his jaws quietly, that he might the better attend to the discourse of Panurge. "Her second daughter," continued Panurge, his cheeks swelling, and his eyes brightening with infinite pleasure, "she marrieth to the eldest son of another great family, which owneth half a county, and when the wedding is over she shall discover that the estates are all held by the tenure called 'Borough-English,' by virtue whereof they descend to the youngest son, to the exclusion of his seniors. Yea, and she shall be further mortified by the marriage of the younger son, whom she hath missed, with an humble girl, of whom she hath refused to purchase a ha'porth of lucifers." "Thou dost grandly indicate the solemn tricks of the Goddess Fortune," remarked Epistemon, "whom thou reverently clothest with a judicial wig. This amalgamation of destiny with Coke upon Littleton is new." "Panurge," said Pantagruel, "thy work is pregnant with sound morality. I respect thee as I never respected thee before. If thou studiest hard-if thou plungest deep into the comedies of Aristophanes, Plautus, and Terentius, feeding thy fancy with fragments of Menander, thou mayest in course of years write a play like the Goose with the Golden Eggs." "Nay, nay," said Panurge, "I attempt not such sublimities. But I have not yet done. The designing mother marrieth her third daughter to the only son of a man who is possessed of two-thirds of a county, and whose estate is entailed." "Egad!" cried Pantagruel, "thou hast well guarded thy astute Murcian against further freaks of fortune. She may burn Littleton with a fire made of his own coke. Ha! hal blind goddess, what has become of thy Gavelkind and thy Borough-English now?" "Yet," said Epistemon, "if the Yorkshire-woman triumpheth thy moral will be bad, and thou wilt have ill served the cause of virtue." But she will not triumph!" shouted Panurge, while John, the waiter, rubbed his hands in a furor of expectation. "No, the entailed estate is limited to the issue of the father by his first marriage, which produced no increase to the population. The son is the result of a second marriage, and therefore will not touch a square foot of ground-beyond so much as is required for his burial-the father being what the jurists call a tenant-in-tail, after possibility of issue extinct, which is virtually the same thing as a tenant for life." At this announcement Pantagruel and Epistemon, rising from their seats, gave a deafening cheer, in which they were joined by John the Waiter and the conveyancer's clerk, and after which, they (with the exception of John the Waiter), sat down. Panurge, "I pour at once on the head of the Yorkshire "All these three vials of black-letter wrath," proceeded mother in the third act; but that the audience may not be too violently shocked and startled by the simultaneous explosion of Gavelkind, Borough-English, and possibility-of-issueextinct, I break the fall, as it were, by the distribution of scraps of legal learning over the entire play. In every act a barrister shall come on, and read apposite portions from the second volume of Blackstone, winking, meanwhile, at the audience, and pointing to the crafty female." "I think," said Pantagruel, reflectively, "that on the appearance of that barrister I shall retire for a while from the theatre, and take beer." "The skeleton of the play is marvellous," said Epistemon. "I could say it is an exceedingly well-boiled skeleton; it is so amazingly dry. But with what flesh dost thou purpose to clothe it?" "Here is flesh enough," exclaimed Panurge, opening the big book he had carried under his arm-"here is flesh enough to stock Leadenhall-market. This book containeth a vast treasury of phrases, which apparently combine the pungency of the jest with the virtue of the moral precept, and yet convey no meaning whatever. Thus do I take the shape "I will liken thee to a boy," said Epistemon, "who lustily playeth at whipping-top without the top." "Give us a taste of thy tragical mirth," said Pantagruel. Why, for instance," said Panurge, turning over his book, "a man shall say in a pointed manner, Virtue is like a gooseberry; the soundness of the pips doth not prevent the exuberance of the bristles.' To this another shall retort, 'Then compare it rather to the green gooseberry than to the red, for virtue is more allied to the verdure of innocence, than to the crimson of wrath.' Then a lady shall interfere and say― Rather let virtues be compared to currants, for they grow on one stalk-and happy is the gardener who knoweth the position of the root. These be my playful conceits-but at times I will speak doctrinally. Thus my philosopher shall say: 'Love can no more exist without animosity than propinquity without fortitude;' and on another occasion, he shall remark :-'The universe is so balanced, that though vice kicketh the beam, the index trembleth at the ruddy glow of virtue.' But this is my crack sentence-my bonne bouche. An exceedingly venerable party shall say:-'In my early youth I heard a child cry for the moon, and I exclaimed, Fractious innocent, thou knowest not how soon the moon may cry for thee.'" ་ "Set down this in thy book," said Pantagruel, "Although the clock of the Edinburgh Castle seemeth to go backwards, when reflected in the looking-glass, yet need we not, on that account, send for the clockmaker." "Add this," said Epistemon; "Those who open a book upside down, must not be astonished if they find the titlepage at the end." "Perhaps you will condescend to add this," suggested John, "He who gives exactly a shilling, when he is served with a shilling's worth of brandy and water, can scarcely expect the gratitude of the waiter." "Thank ye, John," cried Panurge, "I will give that to my low comedian." "And thy barrister may say this," observed the conveyancer's clerk, "A tenant without a joint for his dinner may nevertheless be a joint-tenant." "But is there no probability that folks will grow weary of this discourse," asked Pantagruel. "I feel that the thought of it already inclineth me to slumber. Methinks thy play, read to Argus, would have answered the same end as the soporific lyre of Hermes." "I have provided subtle antidotes against the possible tedium of mine own wit," answered Panurge. "Thus, whenever the dialogue in my first act shall be found dull, my second young man shall accidentally set light to a window-curtain, and occasion a vast consumption of red fire. The second act endeth with the explosion-very loud—of a gas-pipe." "And the third act ?" enquired Pantagruel. "Ah, the third act will be safe enough, through the spice I shall put into the metrical tag, which will be somewhat in this fashion: 'Although our scenes of ancient tenures treat, From Gavelkind some int'rest we have sought, And pass it must, when back'd by your applause."" "On the night when thy play is acted," said Pantagruel gravely, "I will sit here, and thou shalt come and tell me of its fate." "I," said Epistemon, "shall pursue the same course as my noble master, satisfied that I cannot go wrong in following so bright an example." "And, Master Panurge," said John, "if you have any tickets to give away, let me have them for another night.' EATING is one of the pleasantest things in this world, especially when it is combined with drinking. It is certainly the first, and probably, also, the last of our enjoyments. As infants, we cry for food; as children, we fight for it; as youths we, for a time, perhaps, do not think so much of it as of less nutritious though more poetical delights; but when once the age of dreams has passed, the taste for eating reasserts itself, and does not again desert us until the banquet of life is fairly at an end, and our mouths are shut for ever. Full of these solemn thoughts, three travellers might have been observed, the Friday before last, wending their way towards St. Martin's Church cab-stand. "Hansom?" inquired five sonorous voices. No," answered the travellers, for there were three of them, "we want a four-wheeler." Joyfully, and with tolerable appetites, the trio caused themselves to be driven to the London Bridge station, where, having provided themselves with tickets, they entered a train about to start for the Crystal Palace. For three hours they listened to the solemn strains of the Elijah, and thought how much better they had heard it performed at Exeter Hall. Then there was a talk of dinner, for the three were outrageously hungry; but the least voracious of the party having suggested that it would be as well to see the statue of Mendelssohn uncovered before dining, the wished-for meal was postponed until, to the discordant accompaniment of a military band, a cloth was removed from the head of the marble Mendelssohn. The unimposing ceremony having been completed, "Let us dine!" said the three amateurs. "Let us dine!" responded each to the voices of the two others, and the only question now was, where the dinner could be procured. "It must be good!" said one, for he was not only ahungered, but was now faint and weary from much pushing, and in urgent need of a succulent and stimulating repast. "It must be particularly good," added the second, bent upon compensating himself for his long abstinence. "It must be infernally good!" exclaimed the third, whose delicate stomach was suffering from a vacuum which it abhorred. There are four categories of dining places at the Crystal Palace, corresponding more or less to the four estates of the realm; with the notable variation, however, that the presswhich all who are treated civilly by it admit to be the fourth estate-makes it a rule to regale itself in the first diningroom. The three lovers of music did or did not belong to the press, but, at all events, they determined to feast in the first or five-shilling banqueting hall, where, for a crown, you may have soup, fish, entrées, toasts, salad, ice-pudding | travel back to London, where they dined and (by the bless- "Go we," said he of the delicate stomach, "to the second dining-place, where, for four shillings, joints reeking hot, vegetables, salad, and a species of pastry may be obtained." "But no," said the more Epicurean of his two friends; "for where there is a best and a second best, the best alone is for such as we; and though Strange be an honest man, yet surely he is no fool, and for four shillings would not give one anything worth the eating." "Let us eat of what we can get," urged the third, piously "Men have dined for four shillings before now; besides,' he added, "we can have extras." The money-taker at dining-place No. 2, did not positively object to take their double florins from the hungry men, but as the tables were full the opportunity was not allowed him. After the second bottle, one of the three said-"I thought Strange managed the refreshment department so admirably ?" "D Strange!' exclaimed one of the others. "I quite agree with the last speaker," remarked the third; "but why," he inquired, "do they publish such things as this about him ?” And taking up an evening paper, he read aloud one of the well-known paragraphs in which the abilities of Mr. Strange, as a caterer for the public, are set forth. "I'll tell you," said the gentleman with the weak stomach; but, as the waiter at this moment made his appearance with fresh bottle, he omitted to explain. a JULLIEN'S LAST WALTZ.* WE are much in error if the publication just issued by Messrs. Boosey, under the above title, fails to cite universal interest. As we have seen the manuscript, we can testify to the genuineness of its authorship; and assuredly this last production in his especial line of one who wrote such a multitude of charming dance-pieces, deserves the attention of all upon whom this genial and attractive form of music exercises a sway. In premising that "Jullien's Last Wallz" is quite worthy of the pen that traced the Rosita Waltz, the Original Polka, the Prima Donna Waltz, the Moldavian Schottische, and a dozen more things as perfect in their way, we bring forward enough to prove that Jullien's melodic invention was as bright and happy towards the end as at any earlier period of his life. We cannot afford room for more For two shillings -no, not for twenty pounds, could the than a short extract; but let the first theme of the first unfortunate three have obtained eating-room in the dining-figure (of which we must cite the top line) speak for itself: place of the third category. Then the enemy of four-shilling dinners cried out in his adversity (for his appetite sorely troubled him), that a twoshilling dinner was good enough for the like of him, and by force of entreaty prevailed upon his not really unwilling companions to follow him to the two-and-twopenny establishment-the twopence, we must explain, being a tax levied for the special benefit of the waiter. There was now only one course open to them-to those men who longed for three courses. It was a terrible alter. native, but they had to make up their minds either to enter the eighteen-penny saloon devoted to the consumption of cold meat, and attack such beef and ham as might be within their reach, or to depart dinnerless from the Crystal Palace. Four and sixpence was paid, or rather five shillings, for here, as at the other refectories, it is found advisable to secure the waiter's fee beforehand. And the precaution is intelligible enough, for who, with a full knowledge of a waiter's incapacity, would, of his own free will, give him twopence for not being waited upon? However, the three tickets were purchased, the vendor saying politely, as he handed them to the hungry ones, "You must get your dinners as you can." The recommendation was both sensible and kind, but it was all very well to say "Get your dinners as you can;" these men could not get them at all. They admit, it is true, that after a delay of a quarter of an hour, some pieces of bread in a fossil state, two knives with blots of mustard on the blades, three pewter forks, and an apology for having no clean tankards for bitter ale, were brought to them. They affirm that ten minutes afterwards three platefuls of whitish beef were laid before them, and further aver that the said and so-called beef was in flavour by no means bovine. The three travellers having now tried in vain every possible means of obtaining a dinner, hot or cold, cheap or dear, at the Crystal Palace, had evidently nothing to do but to confound the tardy waiter and the tasteless beef and Cres. f by composer to set the feet in motion. It is as pretty, too, A more graceful, gentle, unaffected tune was never found as it is graceful, and once heard, will for ever remain a pleasant consoler, when, the heart being depressed, the mind's ear conjures it up from the hidden recesses of the memory. Poor Jullien! he should have lived to write a hundred such. He was a Strauss in his way, although those who knew him well are aware that he had that within him of which a Strauss, however gifted, could never have dreamed. * "Jullien's Last Waltz," (Boosey and Sons.) |