Mr. Editor,—As grumbling is John Bull's prerogative, I often find myself indulging in sundry discontented notions, when I think of "the days that are gone," as regards musical affairs, considering that in some points we have retrograded.

We are entering on another "season," as the migratory influx at this time is termed. We shall have the usual round of concerts, two, and sometimes three, being crowded into one day. Now have you any interest, direct or indirect, with the beneficiaires or those who assist them? If so, can you prevail upon them to infuse a little novelty into their programmes, and then regular concert goers will not listen with such apathy to the fare which is dished up season after season. I attribute this sameness to the indolence of professionals, who, having "got up" a few things, endeavour to force them into the ears of every audience they come before, until the public become so satiated that the performance is little else but an infliction. However great the talent of the artist, scarcely one is exempt from the charge. If we often dined with a friend who had a variety of excellent wine in his cellar, we should not like to be presented with a bottle of the same port, with an occasional glass of Cape sherry; yet we are heated with this sort of fare, in a musical sense, week after week, by our first artists. Beethoven's Adelaide is, we know, a lovely composition; but why Adelaide, ad nauseam, particularly if encored with "Pretty Jane," or "Come into the garden, Maud "? It is in theatres and our large music halls where this practice mostly prevails, where the taste of the galleries is consulted, and where a few obstinately vociferous frequenters often succeed in obtaining

a repetition of some hackneyed song, which the rest of the audience are obliged to sit out with apathetic impatience. Several years back I heard Weber's "Ocean, thou mighty monster," by one of our concert singers, and I will not tell you how many concerts I have attended since, where I have heard the same song by the same lady, even at three successive benefit concerts given by the same person. I recollect when every aspirant came out with "The Soldier tired," that being the pièce de resistance of the day, and the rapidity with which she sang the triplets prevented the public from distinguishing whether they were sung in or out of tune; and if she could reach the D in alt at the close it was considered perfection. Many singing-masters finished their pupils with it, and the latter took care not to forget it or allow the public to lose sight of it. There are many specimens of the old masters that we expect to be occasionally introduced. All lovers of music are pleased to hear "Che faro," and many other pleasing reminiscences of the old school; but a continued presentation of " Che faro" betokens a lack of industry and an indifference that approaches to something like laughing at us for being good easy souls, who will put up with anything from an artist with a good voice. How we were dosed with "Robert toi que j'aime" a few seasons back! We were afraid to look at a concert bill lest we should see the word "Robert." Then every young lady who could sing it, or could not, was attempting it in private, her master not daring to deny her learning it after a miserable fashion, and so it became our "John Jones." But I need not continue an enumeration of instances of this nature. Instrumental performers are not such great sinners in this respect, because they are not so sparing of their trouble yet it requires more preparation to perfect one of Beethoven's or Mendelssohn's concertos than is necessary for " Bonnie Dundee " or " Home, sweet home," which class of composition we continually notice in the programmes of concert after concert. I find one source of congratulation, that is, we are getting rid of the disgusting tremolo that many singers indulged in. It was a French importation, though freely bestowed upon us by some of the Italians, some of whom have so addicted themselves to this voce di capra that they cannot sing a pure note. When Madame Mara was told that Miss "Šuch-a-one" was a fine singer, she generally answered, “Can she sing three good notes in succession?" And a very sensible reply. Signor Ferrari, in his excellent singing tutor, says, that as the street organs imitate this execrable introduction, it can sink no lower, and this may have influenced the perpetrators, in some degree, as il n'y a rien qui tui comme le ridicule.

*

Another vice has unfortunately been gaining on us during the last twenty years, viz. the rapidity with which pieces are performed, unless absolutely marked largo. With few exceptions, every orchestral symphony or overture is a match against time, and we beat the continentals hollow in this race. I suppose it will be admitted that any composition ought to be played in the time the author intended, but conductors nowa-days fancy they know better what the time should be than the composer did. When Weber came to this country to superintend the bringing out of his Oberon he conducted some concerts at Covent Garden, and was the first who used the bâton in England, though a musical reviewer in The Times, a few days back, says that Mendelssohn was the first to introduce it. As soon as they began the overture to Der Freischutz (that is, the allegro movement), he stopped them, and inquired if that was the time they had been accustomed to. On being answered that it was, he replied that it was by no means the time he intended, and made them begin it a third slower. Haydn also, when he visited this country, and composed the symphonies for Salomon, complained of the same thing. Dr. Crotch, who told me this, was present at the time, and said that the little man was very wroth to find them galloping away with his minuets. Many of your readers must know that Spöhr made the same remark when in England. The present fashion for excessive rapidity does not allow the ear to follow or the mind to grasp one passage in ten, consequently the performance becomes, to the generality of hearers, an unmeaning succession of rapid fiddling passages; nevertheless, if it be something by one of the great masters, it is considered quite correct to pronounce it "magnificent," "superb," 39 66 splendid," and

so forth; they applaud the conductor, he makes a gracious bow, and endeavours to merit their laudations, by getting it done if possible a little faster. In my twilight musings by the fireside the other day, I pictured to myself Haydn, Mozart, and Weber returning to Elysium after a furlongh for a few days to the metropolis.

Weber, log.-"Well, Michael, what do you say to the manner in which they play your symphonies. Do they give the exact time that you intended when you wrote them for your old friend Salomon ?"

"My dear Carl Maria, I have no heart to talk about it. Perhaps the best answer I can give you is, that there is a word much used in England

* Mendelssohn's in G minor is becoming pretty well worked.

for which they are indebted to the Americans; it is 'go-a-head;' and signifies a reckless haste to effect any object, without regard to consistency or ultimate gratification. This appears to be the leading principle as regards musical performance. The English have become a great musical people, and can collect at a few days' notice, as you must have perceived, a powerful orchestra and a chorus of from 500 to 2000 voices very fairly drilled. Our best compositions are becoming well known to the musical world, but from their being so frequently repeated, the performance becomes a mechanical operation on the part of the orchestra, the time becomes insensibly accelerated; expression and harmonious effect being secondary considerations. The conductor, who never plays a note himself, thinks that the faster he can flourish his stick the more talent he displays, so the whole affair becomes a ridiculous display of manipulation. Ah! those conductors; I swear by the ring of the Emperor Frederick, that I shall look out when Charon brings over two or three of those fellows, and whisper a word in the ear of Rhadamanthus, before he hears what they have to say. What say you Wolfgang?" Conductors they are called, are they? Assassins is my word for them. Die Lumpe. I saw one of these geniuses giving the time to my Zauberflöte. Oh how I longed for the power to become mortal, that I might have banged about his head the bâton he was brandishing to and fro. Nobody who did not know it by heart, could have followed the orchestra so as to understand what it meant, and it was nothing but a mockery. Have you seen Beethoven since your return? He would not like to hear his Choral Symphony as they scramble through it. I heard his Septett in E which was nicely massacred, merely because the orchestra were able to play in the time. The parts they played the best were the pauses; one could breathe now and then. I passed him just now, while he was asking Handel if it would have entered his mind to write oratorios, had he not quarrelled with his opera singers, Bononcini and his patrons. That was a lucky thought of our friend George. He saw that he would secure an audience for sacred music, though it were performed in a theatre. But either he or the singers of that day were very irascible, as he soon quarrelled with his solo performers, to which circumstance we are indebted for Israel in Egypt, as in that oratorio he rendered himself independent of them. You talk about their manner of playing Beethoven; I should not like Ludwig to hear some of his andantes, particularly those in. They are often done in the same time that you intended for your minuets. They do not take these liberties with sacred music. Your Creation was very nicely done at a place called Exeter Hall; the introductory chaos was perfect. I would give half a dozen of my masses for that one page. I must tell you that at this Exeter Hall everything operatic is, if possible, excluded (except the singers), so that a primo tenore may come from a rehearsal of a comic opera straight to Exeter Hall, but he is expected to compose his mind in the state for changing the character of Don Giovanni or Figaro for that of Joshua, Obadiah, or the archangel Gabriel. The orchestra is composed of many of the same individuals at one place as at the other. The principal difference is, that there is no canvas or foot-lights. Is it not true, Weber?' "Perfectly correct, Wolfgang. It is true as the repetitions from your Idomeneo."

"Gently, gently, Carl; I have been twitted with the same remark by Daddy Haydn. It is well known that I was in love at the time I wrote Idomeneo, and that inspired me to produce what I found would bear repetition. I could find a few passages in his quartetts that are repeated more than once or twice, to say nothing of the poverty of the first half-dozen. However, there is one thing that should console us; the English honour our memories by bringing forth some of our compositions at every concert of importance. But the man at present in Vogue is called Verdi. You should see the music he writes for his sopranos. See it, not hear it, for there are passages enough to spoil lungs of iron. Did you hear any, Michael?

"Yes, and was quite out of breath, expecting that the singers would be, every line, in the same state, as I looked for nothing but a break down. Rossini and Bellini are more consistent; their melodies more original in the bargain. I went to the Hanover Square Rooms, where I had often sat at the pianoforte when my symphonies were performed; but I did not then intrude on the functions of the leader. Now, the leader's occupation is gone; yet the music went quite as well in the days of François Cramer or John Loder. All the orchestra distinguished his sonorous fiddle, and the firmness with which he led a heavy band nothing could surpass. There was no musical Jack in the box with a truncheon. Viotti, and many others, would have died of a broken heart to have been thus displaced. Why not put the leader in front of the orchestra, that he may appear at his true post, instead of appearing a mere repieno? But my spirit strolled into the suburbs, and would you believe it, at the tea gardens and dancing booths, each little knot of musicians has its conductor, who flourishes a stick for even a set of quadrilles or a polka."

Moz. "What is a polka?"

"I discovered by the performance that it is a movement in ?, with a slight accent on the 3rd quaver to accommodate the step of the dancers. It is danced like our waltzes, except that there is a little more of the allegro appasionato between the couples, therefore very much patronised. Did you hear one of your operas, Mozart, while among the mortals?" "Yes, I heard Don Giovanni. Donnerblitz! how it was galloped through. When they came to Non piu andrai' I could stand it no longer. In Spagnoletti's time (and Weichsel's before him), it was a treat to hear the descending passages of semiquavers staccato as I had expressly marked them, but no violin player could bow them staccato in the way it is sung now. I could hear no more. I am surprised that the conductors succumb to a vitiated taste. In the minor theatres of course they ape the conductor mania, and, accordingly, stick somebody up in the middle of the orchestra, though it must be a decided waste of money on the part of the manager, as the light kind of music heard at these theatres makes the conductor a fifth wheel. As this functionary is often absent, his post is filled by the 1st violin, who jumps up in his place, and from that moment considers it derogatory to his dignity pro tem. to be really useful, so commences waving his bow as if he were giving the time to my Jupiter. This frequently takes place where there are three 1st violins, so the farce is kept up at a decided sacrifice of effect, for the brass and drums then have completely the best of it. Managers in general know as much about music as of Sanscrit, so are led by the nose by some one whose interest it is to throw a little dust in their eyes. Did you notice anything of this sort, Weber ?"

"Plenty, my dear Mozart, and was highly amused; but there was another feature that predominates with the English at present, the taste for large masses of performers, some would say a taste for noise. This is much encouraged by a company who have built an immense glass house they call a Crystal Palace, and make a good speculation by collecting large choirs and commemorating the birthday of some celebrity. Handel has had two days, Schiller has had his fête, and the managers have jumped over you, Mozart, Haydn, and even our revered Beethoven, to celebrate his greatest imitator, Mendelssohn; but Mendelssohn is in fashion now, so it becomes a more profitable speculation. I am glad to see that the profound harmonist Spöhr has had a kind of recognition; but it is not to be expected that the best of his works can be appreciated by any but musicians. But good bye, for here comes Corelli, and I would rather not tell him that his solos are out of date, except for those who are practising the violoncello. I would rather meet Lully, as they continue to put variations to his Au clair de la Lune; or even Palestrini, he being now and then called to remembrance by the Glee and Madrigal Societies. Au revoir." A VETERAN.

[We shall have a word or two with "Veteran " in our next.-ED.]

ELIJAH.

given, the first time for two years, at Exeter Hall." I find that the last SIR,-In your last No. you say, "On Friday, 1st June, Elijah will be performance by the Sacred Harmonic Society was on the 3rd February, 1859, on the occasion of the 50th anniversary of the birth of the Composer; and in your No. of 5th February, 1859, you give an account of the performance; so you will perceive a slight error is made in your last No. I have the volume for last year before me, and I was at the performance named, so you will find I am correct. The moment I saw your statement in the Musical World, I was certain that Elijah was performed last year. I remain, Sir, yours, &c.,

N. B.

ROYAL ITALIAN OPERA. ON Saturday Il Barbiere was repeated. On Tuesday I Don Giovanni was given, with Madame Grisi as Donna Anna; and on Thursday Il Trovatore.

La Gazza Ladra will be produced to-night, with Madame Penco as Ninetta (her first appearance in this part in London), and M. Faure as Fernando (first time of performance), with Madame Nantier-Didiée as Pippo, and Signor Ronconi as the Podesta.

The new Floral Hall, brilliantly illuminated, has been opened on several evenings of late after the performance, affording the visitors an opportunity of enjoying a delightful half-hour's promenade, and hearing some popular music played by the band of the Coldstream Guards.

HER MAJESTY'S THEATRE.

THE part of Maffeo Orsini, in Donizetti's Lucrezia Borgia, is one of subordinate rank, and, indeed, was never accorded any importance here until sustained (in 1847, at the Royal Italian Opera) by the distinguished singer for whose first appearance in London since 1858 it was selected on Saturday night. It has been suggested, and not without reason, that the company engaged by the new lessee of Her Majesty's Theatre exhibits an embarras de richesses" almost unprecedented; that he has, in short, so many sopranos, “mezzos," and contraltos, tenors, barytones, and basses at disposal, as to be somewhat at a loss how to dispose of them all for the advantage of the establishment and the gratification of its patrons. Nevertheless, were Mr. Smith twice as wealthy in vocalists of every denomination, and of every grade of talent from the highest to the lowest-the addition of Madame Alboni to the list would be none the less unanimously welcomed by frequenters of the Italian Opera, inasmuch as she worthily represents Italian art in its highest degree of refinement. While vocal excellence continues to hold the sway which has been its privilege since music was in its infancy, and while the human voice is still pronounced by general consent the most absolutely perfect of instruments, although the most difficult to control with address, the peerless organ and consummate proficiency owned by this lady will never lose one atom of their legitimate influence. If a beautiful voice, even untrained by early and assiduous study, can delight the majority of hearers, how much more potent its charm when so entirely under command that the nicest inflection is invariably true, the most delicate turn as just as a mathematical axiom, and the subtlest gradation tempered with such discretion that no mechanical contrivance could surpass it, need hardly be insisted on. Join to these purely artistic acquirements the graces of style, a taste rarely at fault, and expression that, while always genuine, never verges on exaggeration, and we have briefly summed up those qualities which impart to Madame Alboni's singing the attraction it exercises, and to which it is indebted for the recognition it universally obtains among those most competent to judge. In the music assigned to Maffeo Orsini only one phase of Madame Alboni's talent has a chance of being completely revealed; but as this is probably the phase most readily appreciated by the mass, there can be no reason to wonder at the popularity it has enabled her to win. The instant her well-known figuredraped in that singular tunic (if tunic it may be called) which her excessive "embonpoint" compels her to wear-was detected, mingling with the crowd (in the first scene of the opera), a burst of applause from all parts of the house proclaimed the satisfaction of the audience at seeing their favourite once more. recounted by Orsini to his friends brought forth in all their beauty The legend those pure contralto tones which have so often charmed the public, and-sung, as usual, to perfection-elicited the warmest demonstrations of approval. The "triumph," however, was of course reserved for "Il segreto per esser felice"-which Madame Alboni never gave with more spirit and vocal facility, the incomparable "trillo" (shake-to employ our own less elegant vernacular) preceding, in each couplet, the resumption of the genial melody to which Donizetti has allied the words exciting the accustomed marks of admiration. It is almost superfluous to add that the brindisi was enthusiastically redemanded, and repeated with undi

minished effect.

We need not recapitulate the many fine points that make the Lucrezia of Mademoiselle Titiens one of that lady's most striking and admirable performances; nor dwell upon the characteristics of Signor Mongini's Gennaro, which wants only a little softening here and there to be as irreproachable as it is earnest and impulsive. The merits of these and of Signor Vialetti's very careful impersonation of the Duke have been more than once discussed. On the present occasion the interest naturally centred in Maffeo Orsini, and at the conclusion of the opera, when Mademoiselle Titiens and Signor Mongini had been summoned before the curtain, there was a general call for Alboni, who, after some delay, made her appearance, and was honoured by such a greeting as is never accorded but to artistes standing highest in public esteem. The house was crowded in every part, scarcely a vacant place being perceptible in gallery, boxes, pit, or stalls.

Madame

On Monday, an extra night, the Trovatore was given for the Azucena, allotted in the two previous representations to Madame third time; on this occasion Madame Alboni taking the part of Borghi-Mamo. The great reputation achieved by Madame Alboni in the gipsy-mother, not, we may be assured, any shortcomings on the part of Madame Borghi-Mamo, induced the management the policy nor wisdom of this bandying about of character from to make the transfer, although, we must confess, we see neither one artist to another. An extra-night, of course, may be pleaded remark that Mulle. Titiens was as powerful as ever in Leonora, in extenuation. Of the performance generally we need only Alboni's Azucena cannot be forgotten by those who have seen it. and that Signor Giuglini never sang more delightfully. The great artist first undertook the part in 1856. The effect she produced in the character in Paris, coming after Madame Viardot and Madame Borghi-Mamo, was echoed in London; and at last everybody allowed that the incomparable contralto-soprano added intensity and passion to her many other excellencies. Better Madame Alboni's performance of the gipsy on Monday. It was still than in any former year, in point of energy and force, was really powerful acting. Of Madame Alboni's singing we need not hazard a word. It was as exquisite, as perfect as ever, as full of beauties, as sympathetic-a model, in fact, of pure and simple vocalization, and from which any living singer might receive a lesson. Azucena, in fine, is one of Madame Alboni's most remarkable performances.

On Tuesday Semiramide was performed for the first time at Semiramide, Mdlle. Titiens; Arsace, Madame Alboni; Idreno, Her Majesty's Theatre for several years. The cast was as follows: Signor Belart; Assur, Signor Everardi; and Oroe, Signor Vialetti. lavished all the florid graces of his melodic invention, and which The character of Arsace,-upon which Rossini has in one sense stands apart from every other personage in the lyric drama-affords the practised vocalist ample opportunity for display. It was in Arsace that Madame Alboni (at the opening of the Royal Italian Opera, 1847) first elicited the admiration of the English public, and since that memorable occasion it has always been regarded as one of her greatest, if not, indeed, her very and richness as of old, it has gained in other respects, being now greatest performance. If the voice has not quite the same depth may be compared to a crystal without a flaw. For mellowness so equal in volume and quality throughout the register, that it ceeding each other with such natural fluency, that it is impossible and even suavity of tone it is wholly unrivalled, the notes sucthus perfected enables the singer to articulate every phrase and to detect a weak place or single out a "break." An instrument passage set down with such unvarying ease, that any idea of diffiis realised to the letter. culty never presents itself to the hearer, and the ars celare artem ency than the two airs-"Eccomi alfine in Babylonia," and "In More faultless examples of vocal efficisi barbara sciagura"-as sung by Madame Alboni, could hardly be belonging to the first, or than the duet with Semiramide (Act II.), cited; or purer specimens of vocal declamation than the recitative including the delicious slow-movement, "Giorno d'orrore." It would have been worth reviving Semiramide-even were the music with which Rossini has galvanised the effete drama of Voltaire less gorgeous and magnificent-for the sake alone of such singing Italian art in its perfection, and to show that legitimate exhibias that by means of which Madame Alboni enables us to judge of tions of skill are still calculated to rouse the enthusiasm of an audience.

and superb, at times constrained, and therefore less entirely Mdlle. Titiens, as Semiramide, is unequal at times dramatic satisfactory. her acting in the finale- where the shade of Nino appears to Some parts of her "Bell raggio are admirable; telligence; and the duets with Assur and Arsace are replete frustrate the designs of the Assyrian Queen-is full of inMadame Grisi's impersonation of Semiramide, more perhaps was with striking points. But with the remembrance, still vivid, of expected than we had a right to expect from a foreigner unacquainted with its traditions. At any rate, no one since Madame Grisi has looked the character so well, evinced a readier physical means to its technical illustration. That further exinsight into its histrionic purport, or brought more splendid

perience will enable Mdlle. Titiens to place her Semiramide on the same footing as her Lucrezia, Valentine, and Leonora (to say nothing of her steadily progressing Norma), there can, we think, be little doubt. The only competent representative of Assur whom the present generation of opera-goers can cite is Signor Tamburini; and in saying that, on the whole, Signor Everardi does more with the very arduous music assigned to the part than any other artist who, for many years, has appeared on the boards of Her Majesty's Theatre, we are only rendering strict justice to an artist of decided talent, and still more decided promise. On the other hand, to deny that much is wanting to render his performance irreproachable would be evading the truth to little purpose. The small tenor part of Idreno, intrusted to Signor Belart, is made more conspicuous than usual, owing to that gentleman's marked ability as a singer in the florid style. As Oroe, the high priest, Signor Vialetti leaves nothing to desire. The orchestra and chorus are by no means valuable auxiliaries to the singers before the footlights; and yet one would imagine that the music of Semiramide, from the overture to the end, ought by this time to be familiar to every instrumental performer who has served his apprenticeship.

On Thursday Rigoletto was repeated, when Malle. Brunetti confirmed the favourable impression she created by her first performance of Gilda.

BIRMINGHAM. (From an entirely new and original correspondent) A very agreeable Musical Entertainment was given here on Thursday evening April 26, at the Assembly Rooms, Dee's Royal Hotel, by Mr. H. Phillips, entitled "the Music of various Nations." He was assisted by his daughters Florence and Alice, and by Miss Hawkins, his pupil, a promising soprano, who made her début on this occasion. A fashionable and numerous attendance was the result, and a most agreeable evening was enjoyed. The Programme included characteristic music and melodies of various nations, Scotch, Irish, Chinese, Italian, the melodies of the Holy Land, German, American, Welsh, and English. Each nation was faithfully represented, and the peculiarities of its music cleverly illustrated, from the répertoire of the talented and agreeable Mr. Phillips, on whose shoulders the ever-green mantle of his compeer, John Braham, appears to have fallen. The capabilities of this gentleman appear to be inherited by his daughters, whose performance on the present occasion was above all praise, and elicited frequent and genuine plaudits. Alice the contralto, bids fair to fill the gap which will doubtless ere long be caused by the retirement of Madam Sainton Dolby. Speaking of Miss Phillips, a local professor of the first standing says, "she possesses an extraordinary voice, singing with great power down to the lower E, is an excellent musician, good pianiste, and both herself and sister have received a liberal education in France. Her father is now instructing her in the School of Sacred Music, in which she bids fair to take the highest position. She is but fifteen years of age, her declamatory power, which is, by the way, the leading feature of her singing, is of the very highest order. She sings as she speaks, without the least apparent effort, and yet perfectly articulate, -a rare feature in the present day. Florence her sister possesses a good soprano voice, and is a brilliant pianiste for her age, which is eighteen. It is intended that her musical studies will be completed under the direction of the great Chopin, in Paris."

[Will our entirely new and original correspondent furnish us with his name.-ED.]

MOZART-CHILD AND MAN. (Continued from p. 321, Vol. 38.)

92.

The Same to the Same.

Milan, December 22, 1770.

On the 19th occurred the first rehearsal on the stage. The preceding one on the 17th was gone through in the assembly room of the Ridotta. Heaven be thanked all went off well. Yesterday there was a rehearsal of the recitatives. To-day there will be a second rehearsal on the stage, and on Monday a full rehearsal.

As regards the 26th, the day fixed for the first performance, what consoles me is that I can see the actors (recitanti), and the orchestra as well, are pleased; and I have still, God be thanked, my ears left me. During the rehearsal I posted myself quite at the back, under the principal entrance, that I might hear the effect quite at a distance. Perhaps my ears were too partial. Meanwhile we see all our kind friends rejoiced and satisfied, and all congratulating my son. The ill-disposed

are positively dumb. The best esteemed maestri of the city, Fioroni* and Sammartinit, are our true friends, as also are Lampagnani ‡, Piazza Colombo.§ On this account envy, incredulity, and prejudice against the productions of our child will have no injurious effect. At least, I hope it will not have the sad fate of Jomelli's, whose second opera at Naples fell completely flat (a terra), so much so that it is to be withdrawn for another. Yet is he a renowned maestro, about whom the Italians make a terrible noise. On the other hand it was a folly on his part, perhaps, to compose two operas in the same year for the same theatre, especially when he saw the first had no great success. Since the 16th we have been every evening, after the Ave Maria, at the opera until eleven o'clock, Friday excepted.

93.

The Same to the Same.

Milan, December 29, 1770. God be praised! The first performance of the opera took place on the 26th, with complete and universal success, and with circumstances which have never before occurred at Milan; to wit, an air sung by the prima donna was, contrary to all usage on the prima sera, repeated a second time, whereas at a first performance they never cry fuora; and in the second place all the airs, except a few delle vecchine parti, were greeted with extraordinary applause, succeeded by cries of Evviva il maestro! Evviva il maestrino!

On the 27th the two airs of the prima donna were repeated, and it being Thursday, and consequently advancing towards Friday, it was necessary to finish quickly, otherwise the duo would have been repeated also, for they were already beginning to make a noise. But the majority of the public wanted to return home, in order to have something to eat again, and the opera, with its three ballets, had lasted six good hours. To-day we give the third recita. As Hasse is called il Sassone, and Galappi Busanello, our child is called il cavaliere filarmonico.

94.

The Same to Father Martini, at Bologna.

Milan, January 3, 1771.

At the same time, Very Reverend Father, that I write to wish you a happy new year, I have to inform you that my son's opera has met with a very good reception, in spite of the cabals of our enemies and those who envied us. Before they had seen one note of the work, they spread

it about that it was impossible such barbarous music, without method and without depth, could be executed by the orchestra; and to such effect had they bestirred themselves, that they had persuaded half Milan that instead of an opera they were about to hear merely a poor compilation. They had even taken to the principal cantatrice several airs and a duo, composed by the Abbé Gasparini of Turin, and wished to persuade her to introduce them into the opera, and to accept nothing from so young a man as my son, and one so incapable of writing a good aria. But the prima donna declared herself satisfied, and more than satisfied. Notwithstanding this, the calumniators of my son ceased not to cherish the most injurious prejudices against his work. The first rehearsal with instruments, however, so completely closed the mouths of these pitiless babblers, that not a word was heard more. All the professors declared to the orchestra that the music was clear, intelligible, and easily played, as the singers had previously pronounced. The first opera of the season at Milan has generally the ill' luck not to attract many people; they always wait for the second before they come to the theatre. Up till now, however, and for the last six representations, the theatre has been always full; each night two pieces have been redemanded, and all the others vigorously applauded.

We hope, dearest Father, to receive favourable news concerning your health. I do not yet despair of receiving the Miserere which you promised, as well as the music for sixteen parts. M. Joseph Prinsechi will not fail to settle what is required for the copy, and I shall take care, as soon as I am returned home, that is to say, about Easter, to send you whatever may prove agreeable. My son kisses your hands, and I am with respect and esteem, Your devoted servant,

(To be continued.)

LEOPOLD MOZART.

*Born in Pavia, 1704; died 1779. Chapel master of Milan Cathedral, in the archives of which this learned composer's works are preserved.

† Born in Milan. Chapel master to the convent of Santa Maria Magdalena. He composed 2200 works, and has been designated the father of Haydn's style.

Born at Milan in 1706; died 1772. Wrote for the church and the stage. Born at Segni. Attached to the Pope's chapel at Rome in 1775. A good composer of church music.

Born in 1714 in the kingdom of Naples; died in 1774. More than forty operas of his are extant, and an infinite number of motets.