and terminates his glorious career by the marvel called William Tell.

It might have been thought that all the grand combinations of dramatic music were exhausted, and that after Rossini and Weber, so profoundly different from each other, a new transformation of the lyric drama was impossible. But such reasoning fails to take into account the inexhaustible fecundity of nature. Then was seen to appear a man patient, of profound genius, endowed at once with a powerful imagination and a rare delicacy of mind. German in origin, and, by the sound musical education he had received, become a little Italian by a sympathy and inclination, he is French by the logic of his eminently dramatic understanding. After several years of trials and doubts, of partial successes that give him some appreciation of his powers, he comes to Paris whither the diverse tendencies of his nature attract him, and reveals himself to the astonished world in a work Robert le Diable, which produced an immense excitement. The Huguenots, the Prophète, and l'Etoile du Nord extend and fix his reputation. I know all that an exclusive and partial taste can say of the style and often complicated manner of Meyerbeer. We have ourselves arrived at a complete understanding of his work, only through a strong desire of equity, believing, as Poussin says, that our appetites alone should not judge of the beauties of art, but our reason also. Because we are naturally inclined toward that family of delicate and harmonious geniuses, who purify reality by the ideal, and temper power by grace, the chaste, restrained, and truly divine geniuses who are called Virgil, Raphael, Racine, Mozart, shall we fail to recognize the manly and robust geniuses, who rejoice in the expression of grandeur, in the painting of vigorous characters and complicated passions, like Michael Angelo, Shakespeare, Corneille, and Beethoven ?

Is not the first quality of a judge or a critic impartiality? I mean that impersonality that forgets for a moment its secret affections, its natural predilections, so as to see that only which is submitted to its judgment, and the better to comprehend the work and the artist that do not belong to the order of ideas and sentiments with which it easily sympathises. What a poor spirit would that be, which, educated in the admiration of a Titian or an Andrea del Sarto, could not comprehend a Rembrandt, that mighty colorist who loves the contest of lights and shadows, great contrasts of chiar' oscuro, types more vigorous than noble, and scenes of bourgeoise life, whence he causes to spring a profound thought and a dramatic interest.

Such are likewise the qualities of the works and genius of Meyerbeer. He excels in rendering the contrasts of extreme situations, the mêlée and shock of diverse passions in a powerful whole, in creating vigorous types, such as Bertram, Marcel, and Fidès, who engrave themselves on the imagination of all, whom no one can forget, and in filling his immense canvass with tumult, life, and light. In what modern drama can be found a finer female character than that of Valentine in the Iluguenots, or a more touching scene than the duo of the third act with Marcel? Does a more pathetic air exist than the "Grâce" in Robert, or a tableau more poetic and novel than the act of the Nuns in the same great work? I say nothing of the fourth act of the Huguenots, one of the finest pages of dramatic music in existence; but the divertissement and grand scene in the church, of the Prophète as well as the military scene in l'Etoile du Nord, are these not the production of an imagination more supple and more various than it is supposed to be? Meyerbeer is reproached with being wanting in melody. Certainly he has not the melody of everybody, those commonplaces that travel through the streets, and which the old troubadors love to repeat to the accompaniment of their cracked guitars. A dramatic musician above all, Meyerbeer could say, with Gluck, to his critics, "If I have succeeded in pleasing the theatre I have attained the end I had in view, and I assure you that it concerns me little that my music does not please in a concert or in a saloon" (Life of Gluck, by Auton Schmid, p. 426). A great tactician, a colourist full of relief, Meyerbeer could also add these words which the author of Armide said to a friend, "You should know that music in its melodic part possesses very few resources. It is impossible by the mere It is impossible by the mere succession of notes that form the character of melody to depict certain passions." This is what album composers and the makers

of canzonets do not understand; but the public, that for thirty years has applauded the works of Meyerbeer, listens only to the emotion it experiences, and leaves to journalists the smartness they lay claim to in denying the brightness of day, and the power of so great a master.

In an age of great revolutions, of universal renovation, in which politics. poetry, science, and the arts have extended the horizon of life and enlarged the bounds of the universe, music, and especially dramatic music has also renewed its forms, vivified its colours, and multiplied the number of its characters. Between Weber and Rossini, who have a manner of proceeding so unlike, and whose immortal works express a world of ideas and sentiments so opposite, Meyerbeer has succeeded in creating for himself a profound and original personality. The opera of the Pardon de Ploërmel, far superior to l'Etoile du Nord, is in our opinion of all his works the most simple, the most agreeable, and the most freely melodious of the author of Robert and the Huguenots.

ORGANS AND ORGANISTS,-CHURCHES AND

CLERGYMEN.

Ir is rather a remarkable thing that in England, where of late music in its variety of style has been making such progress, the mass of the community should still remain so deplorably ignorant. And not only does this epithet apply to the least-educated portion, but we regret frequently to notice how many otherwise classically-taught members of society are so totally deficient in all musical knowledge. We should like to have the opportunity of putting a few questions to those people who are in the habít of looking down upon their organists as inferior members of society. Fancy, for instance, a poor curate of £100 a year considering it infra. dig. to be seen speaking to the organist of the church in which he officiated; the latter, in all probability, enjoying three times the income and intellect of his surpliced and fancied superior. This is a state of things which certainly ought not to exist; but we fear that until a change has taken place, such as time and education can only materially effect, this unhappy state of things must call forth more pity than anger. The deplorable changes which take place in the various churches are mainly due to the absurd interference of persons who fancy they know a great deal more about music than the man whom they pay to instruct them. An organist will sometimes substitute an adaptation from one of the masters for a response which has no music or anything else in it; the consequence will be that he has an anonymous letter from some crochety old party who has never had his unhappy soul edified beyond the Old Hundredth drawled out in the most heartrending manner. And, of course, frequent occurrence of this kind of thing is sufficient to dishearten the most impervious character. A man perhaps of classical knowledge and refined musical taste is subjected to this sort of thing; which we know is only too often the case. He throws the whole thing up, even if it next door to ruined him, rather than bear the ignorant attacks of people who were not even endowed with sufficient sense to leave alone what they would probably never have the intellect to fathom and enjoy. How many would add their evidence to this? But, happily, musicians as a body know how to resent this sort of thing Contempt inflicts a deeper wound than words. Like a summer cloud that passes over and for a moment obscures the beauty of the landscape, so the discomfort of the musician is dispersed by the love for his art and his callous indifference to the opinions of those who grovel in a world below. As an instance of this sort of thing:-I knew a man who played at a church a few miles from London, who was peculiarly sensitive in this respect; and on one occasion he was performing a concluding voluntary, the nature of which required him to employ the full power of his instrument at times. One of the officials (curate or rector, no matter) passed behind him as he sat at the organ, and administered a violent thrust in the back, at the same time exclaiming, "You'll kill us!" I'll leave you to judge what sort of impression this would be likely to produce. Of course he immediately resigned the position; but a very humble apology, I believe, caused him to reverse his decision.

One great disadvantage which organists have to contend with is

the amateur element-so many young men play sufficiently well to conduct a service, and who at the same time do not derive their living by it; the consequence is, that a great many churches are supplied from this source, and for several obvious reasons. In the first place, the amateur will play for the glory very often, and then the officers of the church can twist him round their thumbs, the consequence being that the musical part of the service sinks to a miserably slow state of things, such as a short journey in almost any direction will furnish you with. We could enumerate many of the large metropolitan churches as instances. Every church should set apart a portion of its income for a choir;-an organ is of course a sine quà non, but is intended chiefly as an accompaniment-no service in the Church of England can be efficiently performed without a choir-and the choir should be instructed by an organist who is a musician, and practising the noble art of which he is the representative, should command respect and admiration. We sincerely hope the age is becoming more enlightened. Let our haughty curates and rectors who know not music look upon Germany and Italy, and blush! Let them visit the foreign cathedrals and listen to the choirs, and see with what respect the organist is treated, and they will perhaps know how to value talents which are only especial gifts. No earthly toil will draw music from a soul born dead to harmony.-A. C.

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LONDON: SATURDAY, AUGUST 4, 1860.

MUSICIAN whose works present many points of analogy with those of the composers mentioned by us last week as the heads of the German Romantic School is Hoffmann-far better known by his tales than by his Miserere, his Requiem, his airs and choruses for Werner's Crusade of the Baltic, or his operas of Love and Jealousy, The Canon of Milan, and Undine, which last production has always been regarded as his masterpiece. Indeed, with Undine, Hoffmann obtained his one great musical success, and it is easy to account for the marked favour with which that work was received in Berlin. In the first place, the fantastic nature of the subject was eminently suited to the peculiar genius of the composer. Then he possessed the advantage of having an excellent libretto, he possessed the advantage of having an excellent libretto, written by Lamothe-Fouqué, the author of the original tale; and finally, the opera was admirally executed at the Royal Theatre of Berlin. Probably not one of our readers has heard Hoffmann's Undine, which was brought out in the music enjoyed for a time considerable popularity, and 1817, and we believe was never revived, though much of the composition as a whole was warmly and publicly praised by no less a personage than Karl Maria von Weber. On the other hand, Undine, and Hoffmann's music generally, have been condemned by Sir Walter Scott, who is reported not to have been able to distinguish one melody from another, though he had of course a profound admiration for Scotch ballads of all kinds. M. Fétis, too, after informing us that Hoffmann "gave music lessons, painted enormous pictures, and wrote licentious novels (where are Hoffmann's licentious novels ?), without succeeding in

making himself remarked in any style," goes on to assure us, without ever having heard Undine, that although there were "certain parts" in which genius was evinced, want of connexion, of conformity, of conception, and of plan, might be observed throughout;" and that "the judgment of the best critics was that such a work could not be classed among those compositions which mark an epoch in art."

Weber had studied criticism less perhaps than M. Fétis, but he knew more about creativeness, and in an article on the opera of Undine, so far from complaining of any "want of connexion, of conformity, of conception, and of plan," the "This work seems really to author of Der Freischütz says: have been composed at one inspiration, and I do not remember, after hearing it several times, that any passage ever recalled me for a single minute from the circle of magic images that the artist evoked in my soul. Yes, from the beginning to the end the author sustains the interest so powerfully by the musical development of his theme, that after but a single hearing one really seizes the ensemble of the work, and detail disappears in the naiveté and modesty of his art. With rare renunciation, such as can be appreciated only by him who knows what it costs to sacrifice the triumph of a momentary success, M. Hoffmann has disdained to enrich some pieces at the expense of others; which it is so easy to do by giving them an importance which does not belong to them as members of the entire work. The composer always advances, visibly guided by this one aspiration-to be always truthful, and to keep up the dramatic action without ceasing, instead of checking or fettering it in its rapid progress. Diverse and strongly marked as are the characters of the different personages, there is nevertheless something which surrounds them all; it is that fabulous life, full of phantoms, and those soft whisperings of terror which belong so peculiarly to the fantastic. Kühleborn is the character most strikingly put in relief both by the choice of the melodies, and by the instrumentation which, never leaving him, always announces his sinisif not as destiny itself, at least as its appointed instrument. ter approach. This is quite right, Kühleborn appearing, After him comes Undine, the charming daughter of the waves, which, made sonorous, now murmur and break in harmonious roulades, now powerful and commanding, announce her power. The arietta of the second act, treated with rare and subtle grace, seems to me to be a thorough success, and to render the character perfectly. Hildebrand, so passionate yet full of hesitation, and allowing himself to be carried away by each amorous desire, and the pious and simple priest, with his grave choral melody, are the next in importance. In the back-ground are Bertalda, the fisherman and his wife, and the duke and duchess. The strains sung by the suite of the latter breathe a joyous, animated life, and are developed with admirable gaiety, thus forming a The end of the opera, in which the composer displays, as contrast with the sombre choruses of the spirits of the earth and water, which are full of harsh, strange progressions. if to crown his work, all his abundance of harmony in the double chorus in eight parts, appears to me grandly conceived and perfectly rendered. words- Good night to all the cares and to all the magniHe has expressed these ficence of the earth' with true loftiness, and with a soft melancholy which, in spite of the tragic conclusion of the piece, leaves behind a delicious impression of calm and con

*Another proof that this device is not new in the hands of Herr Wagner.

solation. The overture and the final chorus which enclose the work here give one another the hand. The former, which evokes and opens the world of wonders, commences softly, goes on increasing, then bursts forth with passion; the latter is introduced without brusqueness, but mixes itself up with the action, and calms and satisfies it completely. The entire work is one of the most spiritual that these latter times have given us. It is the result of the most perfect and intimate comprehension of the subject, completed by a series of ideas profoundly reflected upon, and by the intelligent use of all the material resources of art; the whole rendered into a magnificent work by beautiful and admirably developed melodies."

M. Berlioz has said of Hoffmann's music, adding, however, that he had not heard a note of it, that it was "de la musique de littérateur." M. Fétis, having heard about as much of it, has said a great deal more; but, after what has been written about Hoffmann's principal opera by such a master and judge as Karl Maria von Weber, neither the opinion of M. Fétis nor of M. Berlioz can be of any value on the subject. The merit of Hoffmann's music has probably been denied because the world is not inclined to believe that the same man can be a great writer and also a great musician. Perhaps it is this perversity of human nature that makes us disposed to hold M. Berlioz in so little esteem as an author; and we have no doubt that there are many who would be equally averse to according M. Fétis any tolerable rank as a composer.

WHILE

But

WHILE on the subject of pianoforte composers who have written not for a country or for an age, but for the world and for all time, we may allude to one who has done perhaps more legitimate service in developing the bonâ fide mechanism of the instrument than any predecessor, contemporary, or follower. Next to Moscheles (by many placed before him-we cannot but think in some respects unreasonably), comes Jean Nepornell Hummel, one of the most talented, voluminous, and classical of all the pianoforte composers. Hummel-be not startled, reader-was not an original genius, although a long habit of composing endowed him with an unmistakeable peculiarity of manner. Hummel was a musician, heart and soul-one of the right sort, unbending, comprehensive, and enthusiastic. Educated under excellent masters, he soon acquired the art of writing with ease, while the strict school in which he had been nourished, regulated his taste in the true direction. Hummel was a more learned musician than Moscheles, although he did not possess Moscheles' originality. His contributions to the art were not less numerous and valuable. Both have been of inestimable worth in directing the studies of pianists, and both were endowed with a facility which promptly seconded these intentions. Hummel's concertos owe much more than is generally admitted to those of Mozart, Dussek, and Steibelt; but they abound in a variety of graceful passages that exclusively belong to their author. It should be noted here that Mozart anticipated Beethoven, and that Beethoven did not surpass Mozart in the symmetrical form which, although Haydn had imparted to the symphony, was, before Mozart's time, wholly strange to the concerto. Mozart, therefore, did as much for the concerto as Haydn had done for the symphony and sonata-for, be it remarked, while in the lucid arrangement of ideas which appear and return in reasonable and proper places, the consistent balance of relative keys being preserved, the concerto is but a branch

of the parent SONATA,* yet it still presents, even in the examples left us by Mozart and Beethoven, a marked difference of plan.†

While in the tuttis, or orchestral preludes ‡, Hummel (like Moscheles) followed Mozart's symmetrical arrangement, he also (like Moscheles) overlooked that peculiarity which endows Mozart's concertos with such unity and completeness. Let us explain. In Mozart's concertos the three solos, of which, like the majority of concertos, they are composed, are continually accompanied in the orchestra by one or both the principal themes, separate or in conjunction, elaborate and worked out to the end. We find little of this in Hummel, although occasional glimpses are not wanting; but a complete development of the themes is never attempted, except in the tuttis. For this reason, without alluding to his higher genius, Mozart not only wrote his concertos as though he had improved upon the models of Hummel, who lived after him (instead of Hummel half-rising to the models left by Mozart), but wrote them, as it were, side by side with Beethoven, the great developer himselfeven he who gave Mendelssohn the first hints of dispensing altogether with the tutti, an evident superfluity.

Nevertheless, devoid of pure invention as was Hummel, his concertos are fine productions, indispensable to the completion of a musical education, beautiful and interesting as music, independent of their influence and of all arbitrary considerations. No pianoforte writer ever produced a greater variety of new and elegant passages than Hummel, who, we need hardly remind our readers, was one of the greatest pianists of his day; and as an impromptu player, or improvisateur, had few equals, and fewer superiors. (This reminds us that we have neglected to speak of the wonderful powers of improvisation possessed by Moscheles). The miscellaneous works of Hummel-studies, fantasias, &c.—would of themselves form an interesting library. But, to come to an end with him, his sonatas for pianoforte solus are almost as rare (master as he needs must have been of the sonata-form) as those of Moscheles. We have never d'œuvre); that in D, which, containing a scherzo and trio, seen more than five-that in F minor (the best-a chefassumes the distinction of the real grand sonata; that in E flat, dedicated to Haydn; that in C; and that in F sharp minor, which, though styled a sonata, is, more strictly speaking, a fantasia. But these alone are enough to immortalise Hummel, had he not produced so many and such variety of works in another form as to place him among the most fecund and admirable of musicians.

that anybody seemed to have the slightest idea of what they wanted, beyond an insane desire for displaying their strength of lung and vigour of arm. Painfully embarrassing it must have been to some of the more nervous of the vocalists, and in one or two instances the effects were distressing alike to singers and the more rational portion of the hearers. Miss Kate Ranoe, Mlle. Enrichetta Camille, Mlle. Brunetti, Miss Poole, Miss Palmer, Mrs. Weiss, Mad. Louisa Vinning, Mlle. Parepa, Mad. Alboni, M. Gassier, Mr. Weiss, Mr. Patey, and Mr. Sims Reeves, with the Vocal Association conducted by Mr. Benedict, contributed some of their most popular pieces, of which it is sufficient to say that Mad. Alboni's superb rendering of the aria "Ah! quel giorno" from Semiramide, was encored, and the tyrolienne from Belly, "In questo semplice," substituted; that the brindisi "Il segreto" evoked a furore, and was repeated with if possible greater effect, the fair artiste retiring amidst the waving of hats and handkerchiefs, and a perfect uproar of delight. Of course Mr. Sims Reeves was compelled to repeat his songs "They say that all things change," by Vincent Wallace, and Balfe's "I love you"-which latter bids fair to become one of the most favourite songs of the day. Nor were these the only encores of the evening, "I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls," by Mlle. Parepa, being given a second time, and “ Barney O'Hea," by Miss Poole, redemanded, in lieu of which we had "Wapping Old Stairs." Besides these we must especially mention Miss Kate Ranoe's very intelligent and expressive reading of Herr Reichardt's popular song, Thou art so near and yet so far." Of the fourth part of the concert, in which the bands of the Grenadier, Coldstream, and Scots Fusilier Guards were announced to appear, we can say nothing, but have no doubt that Jullien's English and British Army Quadrilles afforded as much delight as they used when conducted by their composer, and the Last Waltz repeated to the gratification of the multitude, who seemed to evince no desire to quit the " gay and festive scene and halls of dazzling light."

66

CAN PARIS PAY ITS ARTISTS ?*

THE Revue et Gazette des Théâtres quoted, in its number of Thursday last, a portion of the article published by us on the London theatres, and in which we directed attention to the excellence of the lyrical companies at Covent Garden and Her Majesty's, where it is not uncommon to see artists of the firstclass consent to undertake secondary parts, while at Paris the same artists would evince less alacrity for such acts of complaisance, however precious those acts may be for obtaining a more brilliant performance of the masterpieces of the classical as well as the modern repertory. Our contemporary, who had already stated this fact, which a recent opportunity enabled us to corroborate de auditu, appends the following reflections to our remarks:

"Paris will never be so fortunate as to be able to offer the public that assemblage, in one and the same work, of first-rate artists which must be the dream of all those who know how to appreciate a masterpiece. Is it not a certain fact that such a superior manner of rendering the secondary parts must throw upon the masterpiece additional light, and impart perfectly new value to details which mediocrity leaves in the shade?

"To what causes is to be attributed this accidental superiority of London over Paris? Why do the artists whom Paris has reared do on the other side of the Channel things which it would be impossible to make them do on this? Why can the London theatres have entire companies composed of first-rate artists, like an army in which each soldier should possess the value of a colonel? Why? To these questions we believe there is only one answer, and that is: London can pay and Paris cannot."

We deny in toto this assertion; it is our conviction that Paris can pay, relatively speaking, quite as well as London, only we must add that London knows better how to pay, and how to obtain a higher return for its money than Paris. Our neighbours, again, possess greater talent in speculation; they do not buy a pig in a poke; they travel themselves, or get others to travel for

* From the Europe Artiste of the 22nd ult.

them, in order to procure certain information as to the merit of the various artists. When the latter are once engaged, they are obliged to renounce their caprices, their exacting demands, and all idea of embarrassing the management; the performers must no more be backward in their duty than the treasurer in his, and it is thus that theatrical enterprises become profitable.

In Paris, negociations are opened with a superior artist at the last moment, and, naturally, he speculates on the need there is of his assistance; as in nearly every case he is called upon to support unaided the responsibility of a piece, he is the more intractable with the management the more indispensable he feels himself to be; so that managers become the subordinates of the persons they have engaged, which is the contrary to what it ought to be in sound logic.

It is said that in London the aristocracy does not care for expense; high Parisian society also can be generous, when it has sufficient reasons for manifesting its liberality; but, to speak the truth, we think it does not enjoy too many occasions of doing so. Now, connoisseurs in artistic banquets cannot consider a table properly served when it boasts of only one and the same dish, and Paris is generally restricted to this congruity of repast. If, in a theatre with opera and ballet, there is a first tenor, we shall have to regret the absence of the prima donna; if there is a superior barytone, the contralto will be wanting; in the choreographic department, the first danseuse will absorb everything, and all the rest will be left to chance, without any attention being devoted to that completeness of ensemble, and that artistic result which should be attained. Among us, therefore, with that good taste which is generally acknowledged, with the intelligence necessary for doing things well, and with numberless resources, we find only incomplete companies, which, from their very incompleteness, are incapable of producing a piece in such a manner as to show it off to the best advantage. This is not the fault of the public; it is the fault of the managers, who do not set about their work with sufficient earnestness; people among us have a habit of being contented with something merely approximative; they are prodigal in one particular and miserly in all the rest; what is wanting is that good sound sense which should preside over a better distribution of our disposable forces; fcr things to be different, and for the comparison to be always to our advantage, we should only have to will it; but, whether from presumption or from carelessness, we do not know how to will, and thus we arrive at the results we have pointed out.

To speak only of the Opera, people assert it could never pretend to compete in magnificence with the English managers, who may with impunity, it is added, increase their expenses in order to augment their profits in the same proportion. This reasoning is not, perhaps, correct. As we have said, we were present at Italian operatic performances in London; neither Covent Garden nor Her Majesty's display more magnificence, we do not say munificence, than our Académie Impériale de Musique. Only, on beginning his season, Mr. Gye knows to within a poun the sums he has to receive, and, allowing for his profit, the sums he can spend. He harmonises his budget, and does nothing at hazard; an example we recommend for adoption by our first lyric theatre. It has been thought right to refer to the precarious situation of a speculative manager, who, after having attracted public attention to the theatre he managed, was obliged to retire a few months since on account of the positive losses he incurred. We do not think the example selected is a good one. M. Carvalhofor he is the person alluded to overstepped, at the Théâtre Lyrique, the limits to which, by his patent, he was restricted. Certainly we are obliged to him, as an artist, for the performances he presented to the public; but we do not award him, as a manager and a commercial individuality, the same meed of praise. attempted more than he was obliged to attempt, and more than was asked of him. He entered into competition with the Opéra and the Opéra Comique simultaneously, and such was not the position Government had allotted him, and charged him to maintain. He necessarily, therefore, arrived at the result, materially to be regretted, which has been mentioned, and to which he advanced almost consciously, we believe. If it be said that it would have been just to have furnished him with the means of retrieving his losses, we agree; but he must not be put in com

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