ness, except the lightning, lias been visible all the afternoon. Gas turned on tt five o'clock; blinds pulled down at six; fires poked up at seven; and wintry etceteras thence till bedtime; rain, of course, descending all the while in a wny sufficient to give a mermaid the rheumatism. Pleasant this at the tail of the dog days; —days that would be improperly so called, indeed, were it not for the number of sad dogs on two legs who are going mad, not with heat, but want of it, not with the sun, but because there is no sun; and whenever there is a moon the man in it seems to have hydrocephalus, or water on the head, and looks idiotic enough to be polled M.P. for Marylebone. As to the cold, perhaps a more conclusive proof could not be given than this: — On beholding Alboni, as Fatima, in Oberon, at Her Majesty's Theatre, clothed in scarlet velvets and flamingo satins, and wearing a turban with folds enough to serve as a wine-cooler in Sierra Leone, instead of exclaiming "Good gracious!" and going into a Turkish bath perspiration at the apparition, you simply feel how comfortable she looks in'beingable, in virtue of natural advantages, to dispense with crinoline, and yet remain quite a la mode as to circuniferenciality. And your satisfaction at the contemplation of so substantial a subject is enhanced by the conviction that the honeythroated syren herself is obviously as cosy as a turtle, of which she is a fac-simile; at least the turtle would be of her were it placed in a perpendicular position. But that would certainly not be a la mode; for uprightness is quite antiquated, and crooked ways alone suit the bent of these sinister times, wherein left-handedness is profitable and therefore respectable.

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Sganarelle (and to M. Gounod) the ever-welcome glougloux de la bouteille.

Qu'ils sont aoujr, "' 1

Bouteille jolie, • ••' I.
QtTils sont doux, • ,

Vos pctits glougloux!
Mais mon sort ferait bien des jaloux
Si vous etiez toujours remplie;
Ah 1 bouteille, ma irie,
Tourquoi vous videz vous?

Or as some facetious Latinist has rendered it, with more regard for sense than for sound :—

Quinn dulccs
Amphora aimena,

QuAm dulces
Sunt Hue voces!''' .'''
l)um fundis mcrum in calices, *- ■
Utinam semper essea plena::
Ah ! ah! cara mi
Vacua cur jaces?

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SINCE the closing of the Royal Italian Opera, there has been a reinnrkable silence iu all the music halls and opera houses of London. At the beginning of July we had two Italian Operas open, and considered ourselves fortunate if there were not more than a brace of concerts to attend every morning and evening. Now, Covent Garden and Her Majesty's Theatre are both shut, Exeter Hall is given up to missionaries and reformed drunkards—the intemperate apostles of toetotalism—while in the Hall of St. James's no sweet sounds are heard save the occasional popping of Champagne corks, and that music so dear to

In the South of London, at the distant Surrey Gardens, and at Sydenham and other provincial places, there have been concerts even during the last week, but also there have been days in this said week (ending August 11th) when "not a drum"—nor any other musical instrument— "was heard," with the exception, of course, of barrel organs, which, however, strictly speaking, cannot be classed as musical instruments at all. A Londoner attending the Crystal Palace Concerts just now would have to go a very long way for a very little music, though Mile. Parepa and Mile. Art6t have been singing there these latter Fridnys. Letters from Sydenham, moreover, inform us that Mozart's Impresario has been recently performed at the Crystal Palace Theatre, which possesses a stage and a proscenium, but which is sadly in want of scenery, dresses, and above all of a license from the Lord Chamberlain. A theatre in which no one acts is of use for all sorts of purpose*, but a theatre in which an affectation of acting is kept up, and in which, costumes and scenery being wanting, no dramatic illusion can possibly be produced, is an absurdity, and to us a terrible nnnoyance—not to say an awful boro. Let the vocalists sing as much as they please, and the more the better, of Mozart's Impresario, and of Mendelssohn's Son find trnnger, but if they will take our advice (and otherwise we will not. listen to them) they will abandon all histrionic pretensions in executing the music of (hose operas At the Crystal Palace Theatre, as that theatre exists at present. Such exhibitions are like rehearsals minus the interest of novelty which usually belongs to a rehearsal when an amateur of some experience takes the trouble to attend one. An opera or any kind of drama performed without scenery, and by actors in plain clothes, is as ridiculous a spectacle as that of dancers dancing without music; and a comic opera represented in such a fashion excites in us only the bitter laughter of contempt. Fortunately there is Strange (who still lives in spite of the castigation we once administered to him in these columns), and we confess that, as things tire now managed at the Crystal Palace, we prefer the "Impresario" of the refreshment room to the Impresario of the sceneless, costumeless theatre. 1 ., .

But even these musical performances that wo so much, object to only take place on rare occasions, and when they do, no one knows much about them in London—in London, where it is understood that after the 31st of July all voices worth hearing must be silent, and that no sou mis. either of trombone, ophicleide, cymbals, Chinese drum, or any kind of musical instrument must meet the ear.

In the midst of this silence a voice has arisen in the Floral Hall, the voice of one Mellon, crying to us from the Garden! Be Jloribus clamavit, and who has not listened to the well-speaking Alfred, assuring us in his own persuasive style that his glass concert-room, of which the panes make vibratory response to every note, is admirably constructed for sound? Good for sound ? why it is as excellent in that respect as our own Crystal Palace, or as that 'vitreous edifice of our neighbours, called the Palais de lTndustrie.

And now there is to bo an end to this period of utter dulness, to this bad, soundless interval between the summer and winter seasons. The autumn of our discontent is to be rendered joyful by the strains of such music as can be made by singers like Parepa, or by players like those who compose the orchestra of the Royal Italian Opera. Ten days ago it was supposed that neither for love nor for money could good music be heard again in London until the winter season had fairly commenced. Love alone could scarcely enable one to hear much good orchestral music even now

(unless some very attractive young lady, such as

could cause an entire band to become simultaneously and harmoniously enamoured of her), but it can be done for money, and at prices ranging from five shillings down to only one.

Is it not kind of Mr. Alfred Mellon and generous of Prince Galitzin to give us concerts of overtures, airs, operatic selections, polkas, and even solos on that charming instrument the cornet at a time when we have scarcely recovered from a prolonged and twofold attack of Italian opera, and are just expecting a serious festival, with another one still more trying "looming in the distance?" to use a tiresome expression which Disraeli is supposed to have invented long since, and which every wretched scribbler, including ourselves, persists in making use of ns if it had only just occurred to him. Yet it is of these concerts that we must speak, and we are sure His Highness and His Ksquireship will believe us when we say that we are not disposed to exaggerate their merits. Nevertheless, Jiat justitia! May the Floral Hall tremble, may every pane in its glass roof be smashed rather than that we should in any way conceal the truth in this matter. London is dull, and our ears are weary, but Mellon's concerts arc good. Operatic selections, in which the soprano airs are given to the bassoon and the bass airs to the piccolo, arc irritating, but there are no better solo players than those belonging to Mellon's orchestra at the Flornl Hall. The cornet even when played on the top of au omnibus is a nuisance, but without a cornet solo no promenade concert is considered complete. What sort of food are polkas and waltzes for one who has just risen, fatigued if not satiated, from the divine banquets of Mozart, and for whom even the light and exquisite dishes of Rossini have no longer any attractions? Nevertheless, Prince Galitzin's polka is excellent, and does honour to "Kozlow," after which it is named, and which (to blend geographical instruction with criticism) is one of the principal towns in the government of TambofF, where the composer habitually resided, and where he formed his celebrated choir. Similarly admirable is his "Herzen WtAtt," though, as regards the title, we must say that Mr. Hersen always seemed to us far too serious, not to say ferocioUB a republican, to suggest any notion of such an agreeable and harmless occupation as waltzing. Of equal merit, we have no doubt, is the Prince's new Russian quadrille — but m the meanwhile why does this composer, with the high abilities he has proved himself to possess, con

fine himself altogether to the production of dance music?

In conclusion shall we tender our thanks to Mr. Alfred Mellon and Prince George Galitzin for giving us these vocal and instrumental concerts in the middle of August? Well, not personally and speaking from our own heart, for we would rather just now be in the Highlands, or in the Tyrol, or in Paris, or even in Kozlow itself than in or near Covent Garden ; but as representatives of the public we think we may say that we are really very much obliged.

i . ,

IN the enumeration of those who obtained a high reputation by their contributions to the pianoforte, it would hardly be just to omit the name of Ferdinand Ries, a distinguished and voluminous composer of the Moscheles' period. Ries was one of the few who enjoyed the honour and advantage of Beethoven's counsel. A man of great industry and talent, ho wanted nothing but genius to conduct him to the highest results. But invention and imagination were denied; and Ries, like others before him, strove to make up in quantity for what was lacking in quality. He composed in every style. Oratorios, operas, symphonies, quartets, and chamber music of all forms and varieties, came from his pen with equal readiness. It was a matter of indifference to Ries what he undertook. He would set about an oratorio, a symphony, or an air with variations with the greatest nonchalance. He possessed the facility which is mistaken for genius by those who have not the gift of analysis, to so great a degree that it led him into twaddle and prolixity almost as often as it enabled him to accomplish good things. His amazing ease of production militated against his fame. Nevertheless, being a cultivated musician, whatever Ries gave to the world would stand the test of critical examination, and, if accused of exuberanco and insipidity, could not be condemned for clumsiness. Thoughtful and ambitious, much and rapid as he wrote for the publishers, Ries had always time to devote to a class of compositions for which those gentlemen are known to entertain an instinctive aversion. In the midst of his teaching, his public playing, his occupations as Kapelmeister and conductor at some of the great musical meetings in Germany*, symphonies, concertos, quartets, would issue from his portfolio as regularly and in as quick succession as though his whole time had been taken up in manufacturing them. Ries loved his art, and it was no fault of his that he did not influence it in a greater degree. He had all the will to do great things, and entertained a full conviction that what he wrote was for all time and would entitle him to a place beside the great masters. But unhappily it was not lor him to decide upon this matter; his cotemporaries thought differently of the merits and influence of his works, and, now that he is no more, posterity has put the seal upon their verdict.

The pianoforte compositions of Ferdinand Ries are very numerous, and may servo as well as anything else to help us to a general estimate of his talent. He wrote concertos, sonatas, trios, ducts, and smaller pieces of almost every denomination. He was a first-rate pianist, and his music naturally presents much that is interesting, and more that is eminently useful, to the student of the pianoforte. He

* Ries was conductor of the triennial festival of the Rhenish cities of Aix-la-Chapelle, Cologne, and Dusseldorf, for some years. In 1835-6 he shared that office with Mendelssohn, who selected Dusseldorf, while Ries chose Cologne.

was thoroughly acquainted with the sonata form, and has left many excellent proofs of his knowledge. There is, however, a certain dryness about his works which prevented them from being popular while he lived, and has since consigned the greater part of them to oblivion, although Ries has not been dead many years. The most celebrated of his larger compositions for the pianoforte is the concerto in C sharp minor, which is even now frequently used as a piece for display. There are some very fine ideas in this concerto which abounds in difficult bravura passages that require a great command of the instrument to play effectively. The opening is grand and passionate, and the whole of the first movement good—perhaps the best effort of the composer. The slow movement and rondo are much inferior, and the instrumentation, after the first tutti, presents very few points of interest. The Studies of Ries are admirable as manual exercises*; and, for a brilliant morceau in the popular style, his fantasia on "Those Evening Bells" is, perhaps, as good in its way as anything of the kind that has been produced. The sonatas of Ries are all well written, and, in spite of a tendency to redundant detail, may be consulted with advantage both by pianist and composer. In none of them, however, do we find indications of those high qualities which entitle their possessor to rank among the composers of real genius.

Alots Schmidt, a German musician who resided many years at Frankfort, and Kuhlau, a flute-player, both deserve mention among the pianoforte writers of the epoch. The former, a professor of deserved eminence, is chiefly known by his Studies, which should be diligently practised by all who wish to acquire mechanical proficiency. The latter, in some duets for flute and piano (the best things of the kind extant), has shown a great familiarity with the sonata form, in whii!: !:o writes with fluency, clearness, and effect.

Marschner, a popular and well-known dramatic composer, has written some sonatas for the pianoforte, which, like his operatic music, smells strongly of Weber, whose mannerisms even are exaggerated by the composer of Der Vampyr. These sonatas, nevertheless, are worth perusal, although they are written so awkwardly for the instrument, that we are led to conclude Marschner was not a pianist.

Reissiger, and his trios, are well enough known by all amateurs to save us the necessity of dilating on their merits, which lie not very deep beneath the surface. They are good show pieces, and that is all. Pianist, violinist, and violoncellist, can each shine to his heart's content, without any prodigious amount of exertion, or any extraordinary display of skill. Hence their extensive popularity. Their form, however, is clear, and though the ideas are poor and the general style commonplace, the interest attached to the sonata form is so inevitable that even musicians can listen to these trios with some degree of interest. This must bo our excuse for mentioning Reissiger, who, except as a manufacturer of easy pieces for amateurs, has had very little influence on the art, and has no claim to be ranked among the great composers for the pianoforte.

Among the successful imitators of Mendelssohn we should have eited Kufferath, a pianist and composer of some distinction, resident at Brussels. Kufferath has written some excellent Studies, which develope with great success many of the peculiarities of the modern style. Their practice cannot fail to promote the acquirement of that mechanical

* A set of Six is published at Chappell's, New Bond Street.

facility which is indispensable to those who desire to excel as public players.


Millions of tiny drops

Are falling all around;
They're dancing on the house-tops,

They're hiding in the ground.
They are fairy-like musicians,

With anything for keys,
Beating tunc upon the windows,

Keeping time upon the trees.

A light and airy treble

They play upon the stream,
And the melody enchants us

Like the music of a dream.
A deeper bass is sounding

When they're dropping into caves;
With a tenor from the zephyrs,

And an alto from the waves.

O, 'tis a stream of music,

And Robin "don't intrude,"
If, when the rain is weary,

lie drops an interlude.

It seems as if the warbling

Of the birds in all the bower',
Had been gathered into rain drops

And was coming down in showers.

Dwiglu's Boston JounaL


Towabds the end of July 1831, there was a rehearsal, in tie concert-room of the Theatre Royal, Berlin, of Marscliner's opera, Der Templcr wid (lie Jiidin, which was to be given on the 3rd August, the birthday of the late king. The principal artists, the chorus, and the band were all assembled, and the worthy G. A. Schneider was the conductor. Among the small number of persons present as audience, was the amiable and estimable Prince Anton Radziwill, a clever artist and friend of art. The rehearsal had commenced some considerable time, when a peculiarly distinguished individual appeared in the room, and, advancing with a light silent step towards the Prince, held out his hand to greet him. Although by no means tall, the slim aristocratic figure ol the new-comer seemed to exceed the ordinary height, Prince Radziwill cordially shook hands with the gentleman, who was s stranger to us, and who wore white trousers, a white waistcoat, and ;i white cravat, a rather light-blue dress-coat, decorated with orders, shoes and gaiters. A person connected with the theatre, to whom we were indebted for our admission, informed us that the individual who had just entered was Spontini. We should much sooner have supposed him to be an old French nobleman ol the Faubourg St. Germain, an Italian Colonel in private clothes, the Spanish Ambassador, or the President of the Cortes, than a musician. After we had had an opportunity of observing him more nearly, we recollected that, a considerable time previously, we had seen a portrait, which represented the author of the VetUUix, as a young man of some twenty odd years. The likeness between the picture and the original before our eyes was certainly not striking, but still there was a faint resemblance in some of the features.

Of all the portraits of Spontini, a Parisian lithograph l>j Grevedon is the best known, and is still to be found in the possession of many of the celebrated composer's admirers. Greveuon has, however, so idealised the head, that he may be said to hare overstepped the right of the portrait-painter to treat his subject as favourably as possible. Spontini had a peculiar, imposing, anil intellectual, but by no means a handsome face; his form was thin, but his carriage noble and aristocratic, while his manners were pleasing, though not, properly speaking, affectionate and engaging.

Neither he nor his wife, formerly a Mile. Erard of Paris, by whom he never had any children, and whose conduct, like his own,

* From the Berliner Musik-Zeitung.

was most exemplary, ever felt at home during a residence of more than two decades in Berlin. With regard to the German language, each of them learned just enough to speak on those matters which more especially concerned his or her position.

Spontini himself knew about sufficient German to say the most indispensable things, when he was perfectly calm, at rehearsal; but, as soon as he became excited — which he very easily did — he spoke French, and Moser, who, when the General MusicDirector conducted the performance, always acted as leader, or the operatic stage manager, Carl Blum, was obliged to undertake the task of dragoman.

Of "Madame Spontini"—Spontini never called his wife otherwise—it is related that, in the course of twenty years she hardly managed to pick up a hundred German words, all relating to household matters, and the fact that she had all her own body linen, as well as that of her husband, washed in Paris and not in Berlin, excited among the matrons of the latter city who heard of it the greatest astonishment. It must, however, be admitted that Spontini's linen was always incomparably white and fresh, while his invariably white cravats, and more especially the socalled "{ather-murderers" (vatermdrder)* reaching up to a level with the nostrils, and which, as we remember hearing from his own lips, he wore of this size "for the sake of warmth," attained a certain comical celebrity in Berlin. He produced the impression of a Grand Seigneur from the Faubourg St. Germain, and we are inclined to doubt that, even had he made himself perfectly master of the Geiman language, he would ever have succeeded in becoming popular and sought after in the musical and social circles of Berlin. In the first place, he was really a man of too great intellect to be understood by the majority of those persons who, from the time he entered on his duties, thought they must attack him "in the interest of German art," and, in the next place, he was, with justice, too proud to descend to an intimacy ■with individuals of merely moderate abilities, and flatter those whom he thoroughly despised.

If we are not mistaken, Spontini first came to Berlin in 1819. Among the persons who approached him with admiration and attached themselves to him was the genial E. T. A. Hoffmann, Kanimereeriehtsrath, who died, we think, in 1823—greatly to Spontini s disadvantage — and, consequently, could not protect him from the storms which one after another broke over his head. The circle of Spontini's intimate friends was a very limited one, particularly in a musical point of view. It was only with such persons as were masters of French that he could discourse freely without assistance; consequently, with one person who in purely Berlin musical and social circles was ,a most important and leading man, we mean old Zelter, an intimacy, such as should exist between colleagues, was completely out of the question.

Zelter was a very long-headed and practical man. Even his rudeness, since proverbial, was mostly cunning calculation. There was scarcely another person in the city so well acquainted with, and so able to form an opinion on, the social and artistic affairs of Berlin as he was. Had it been possible to establish between him and Spontini friendly relations such as became two colleagues, he would have found means to protect the General Music-Director against all the storms and plagues prepared for him by envy, falsehood, and calumny.

Two younger men, as musicians towering far above Zelter, Bernhard Klein and Ludwig Berger, were not on a more intimate footing with Spontini; nay, the former, equally worthy of respect, both as an artist and a man, was, after the production of his opera, Dido, the small success of which was put down to the account of the General Music-Director, placed in a very painful position towards the latter. Neither Spontini nor Bernhard Klein, a

* Anglice: " Collaro." I have been informed in Germany that the reason why these apparently harmless articles of dress were branded by so sanguinary an appellation as "Father-Murderers" — perhaps "Parricides" would be more elegant — was that some wicked young men, wishing to get rid of their father, but fearing to employ arsenic, the knife, or any other of the usual means of assassination, prevailed on their too confiding progenitor to wear immense shirt collars, so stiff that they absolutely cat his throat. I give the legend as I heard it, but I do not think I would vouch for its truth.—J. V. B.

thoroughly noble-minded man, was to blame for this misunderstanding, but solely and wholly some of Klein's friends, who pushed the just admiration they entertained for his musical capabilities—in many respects very considerable and highly cultivated—to the conviction, totally destitute of any foundation, that he must, in addition to everything else, necessarily be a great operatic composer.

Among Spontini's most intimate associates—and this is a characteristic tact—there never was any pre-eminent Berlin artist; there were only two or three musical dilettanti, ready to expire with endless admiration—either real or affected—for him. These persons, seated at his well-served table, used to regale him with the coarsest flattery, and think proper to deceive him continually as to the real feelings and opinions of the musical public in Berlin. After one of the most absurd pieces of calumny, namely, that Spontini had not composed Die Vestalin himself, had found credit, it was an easy task to sow other lies about him among the people, and these lies fell upon equally good ground. Some of them were, for instance, to the effect that he, being a foreigner, either excluded all the operas by German composers from the repertory, or when, despite his great power, he could not prevent the production of one now and then, that he knew how to arrange matters so that the work should have no success.

(To be continued.)


At this dreary period of the year, midway between the summer and winter season, the paucity of musical entertainments of any pretension or character has been much felt by that unhappy section of Londoners who are prevented, by business or other causes; from leaving this wilderness of bricks and mortar and tasting the breezy freshness of the seaside, the bracing atmosphere of the moors, or invigorating themselves by aught in the shape of change of air. For one month, at least, this hiatus seems likely to be filled up, and following in the steps of the late M. Jullien, Mr. Alfred Mellon has successfully inaugurated a series of concerts on a scale which bids fair to be attractive to the public, and let us also hope remunerative to the entrepreneurs. An orchestra of some eighty members, comprising the pick of the famous band of the Royal Italian Opera, together with a selection from the chorus of the same establishment, in addition to solo vocalists of reputation, had the effect of drawing together a thoroughly appreciative audience, who welcomed our talented English conductor with a degree of enthusiasm that is only accorded to special favourites upon special occasions. The National Anthem, of course, took the initiative, and was followed by a remarkably fine performance of Mendelssohn's overture, Ruy Bias; to this succeeded the sccna, "Ah me, he comes not," from John Barnett's too-much-neglected opera, Fair Rosamond, given with remarkable energy by Miss Augusta Thomson. The somewhat hackneyed, albeit effective, part-song of Pearsall's, "Oh who will o'er the downs so free," and Mendelssohn's ever-charming "O hills, O vales of pleasure," were both re-demanded and repeated, while the elegant, sparkling, and original Uerzcn Valsc of Prince Galitzin, admirably conducted by the noble composer, and Mr. Hughes's ophicleide solo, "II mio tesoro" were both loudly applauded. The admirable execution of the " Scherzo and Storm" from Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony made us regret that Mr. Mellon should have given this movement only, and not the symphony in its entirety, as the effect is utterly destroyed by its isolation from the body of the work. With the experience of the Monday Popular Concerts, where week after week crowded audiences are found, who not only sit out, but thoroughly enjoy the quartets and other chamber music provided for them, Sir. Mellon need not fear that a symphony, whether of Beethoven, Mendelssohn, or Mozart, is too long for the British public, who, thanks to the late M. Jullien, have shown themselves quite as ready to do justice to these grand works as the more aristocratic listeners of the Philharmonic or other high-priced Societies; and when we remember what triumphs the Orchestral Union achieved under Mr. Alfred Mellon we can only again express our regret, not unmingled with surprise, at the mutilation of such a masterpiece, and trust we shall not have future cause to complain of so grave an offence against the giants of art at the hands of one who so thoroughly understands and venerates them. The overture to Zampa brought the first part of the concert to a spirited close. A selection from the Favorita, with solos for cornet-a-pistons, flute, ophicleide, violin, and violoncello, commenced the second part. Miss Parepa was encored in the cavatina from Mr. Alfred Mcllon's Victorinc, repeating the last movement, and also gave again the second verse of "I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls," in answer to the demand for its repetition. In obedience to the unanimous desire of the audience, Prince Galitzin repeated the " Sanctus" of Bortniansky; but the second performance was so indifferent that it resulted in nothing less than a break-down, which the audience, however, treated very good-humouredly, and upon the Prince stopping the chorus and recommencing, testified their approbation by hearty applause. The stirring and delicious Kozlow Polka, by Prince Galitzin, was also repeated, making no less than five encores out of seven pieces. The concert concluded with the splendid and brilliant finale of Glinka's opera Life to the Tzar. X\ e need hardly add that the appearance of the hall was most elegant, and afforded unqualified satisfaction to all present.

At the second concert (on Tuesday) the attendance was very good, espeoially in the cheaper part of the hall, and everybody seemed to enjoy the light and gay appearance of the glass-house, brilliantly lit up as it was by jets of gas, tastefully as fancifully arranged. The conductors were again Prince George Galitzin and Mr. Alfred Mellon, who by turns wielded the baton of command over one of the finest bands this country can boast; and the singers were Mile. Parepa and Mr. Wilbye Cooper. The principal orchestral pieces were Mendelssohn's overture to Buy Bias, the Scherzo, Storm, and (on this occasion) Finale, from Beethoven's Pattoral Symphony; Herold's overture to Zampa, and an "operatic selection" from Donizetti's Favorita; solos as before. The two overtures were played to perfection, and as much may be said, in most respects, for the operatic selection.

"The performance of Beethoven's music," says the Morning Post, "was less satisfactory. We did not like to hear the oboe solo in the scherzo played in considerably slower time than that in which the movement had been started by the conductor, firstly, because it is the duty of every orchestral player—even M. Barret —to obey the baton; and secondly, because the time indicated was quite correct. Neither were we at all pleased with the rendering of the last movement marked allegretto, but taken up at a rate of speed more fitly described as allegro assai, and which made the distinct performance of certain passages (those, for instance, in which the basses repeat floral figures previously assigned to the violins) utterly impossible."

The only pieces conducted by Prince Galitzin were the already popular Herzen Waltz and Surprise Polka, composed by himself. The latter was unanimously redemanded. A really wonderful performance by Mr. Hughes upon that unwieldy and ungrateful instrument the ophicleide, and Mile. Parepa's well-known version of the " Shadow Song," were likewise encored. Great applause was also elicited by Mr. Wilbye Cooper in Donizetti's "Una fnrtiva lagriraa;" and his execution, with Mile Parepa, of Verdi's duet, "Parigi, O «ara," evoked another demand for repetition. On the whole the concert was highly interesting, and it must be admitted that such entertainments as this are a real boon to the musical public at the present (in every respect) "dull" time of the year.

The performances on Thursday evening were distinguished by a new quadrille on Russian airs, the composition of Prince Galitzin. The quadrille possesses the elements of popularity, the tunes being highly original and piquante, and the setting most admirable and striking. The introduction of the National Russian Hymn at the end, of course, docs not belong to the quadrille proper, being employed merely as a finale to the whole piece. The new quadrille was received with immense favour, and the last figure unanimously encored.

The attendance has increased greatly since the first night, and will, we have no doubt, increase still further, when the excellence of the programme and the completeness of the band are more widely known. It deserves to be especially noticed that the performance on that night opened with Beethoven's symphony in C, No. 1, the entire work, and that the audience were delighted be

yond measure with each particular movement, the finale eliciting the greatest enthusiasm.

Apropos of Prince Galitzin and the Floral Hall Concerts, we beg to quote the following remarks from the pages of our cotemporarj, the Morning Chronicle :—" What gave greatest eclat, however, to the attractions was the announcement that Prince George Galitzin, the illustrious Russian amateur, whose name has already grown into a household word with the London musical public, had proffered his assistance to Mr. Mellon, and volunteered to conduct a part of the programme in the first eight concerts, placing at his (Mr. Mellon s) disposal several pieces of his own composition. Prince Galitzin is described in the bills—with no flattery, be it understood—as 'a nobleman whose lifetime has been enthusiastically devoted to the study of music, and who, whether considered as a composer or as an orchestra conductor, might well lay claim to rank among the most accomplished professors of the day.' Such, indeed, is the fact; and perhaps the history of music does not present a second instance of a man of such nigh position among the nobles of the land foregoing all the honours and dignities ot his rank, and placing himself as a simple labourer among simple artists. The reception accorded to Prince Galitzin proved unmistakeably that the public appreciated his exertions in the good cause, convinced that a real artist only could make such sacrifices."


[The following circular has been forwarded for signature to the principal members of the Profession.]

Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce, Adelphi, London, W.C.—The Council of this Society, desirous of remedying the inconvenience resultingto musical practice from the prevalent uncertainty of Musical Pitch, called together a Meeting of Musicians, Musical Amateurs, and Musical Instrument Makers, in the month of June, 1859. At this Meeting, after protracted discussion, a unanimous Resolution was passed, declaring that the adoption of one uniform Musical Pitch was desirable, and with a view to determine what this pitch should Ik?, a Committee was appointed to make investigation and to report. This Committee, after careful consideration, made their Report, showing the results of their investigations, and the same was laid before a General Meeting, held at the Rooms of this Society, on the 5th of June, 1860; and the Meeting, after a full discussion, Resolved :—" That the Pitch of 528 vibrations for C be recommended for universal adoption in this country."

Wc, the undersigned, Musicians, Musical Amateurs, and Manufacturers of Musical Instruments, desire to express our full concurrence in the above Resolution, and our intention, individually, to use and to promote the adoption of this Pitch, so far as lies in our power.

[We are of opinion that the names of the musicians and connoisseurs who attended the Meeting at which the above decision was adopted, should be added to the circular, as a testimony—for those who were absent, if not able to be present, and whose signatures are demanded — of the weight that should be attached to it.—Er>. M. IV.']

Madame Jullien starts on Wednesday for a tour in the provinces, which is to last three weeks. She will be accompanied b)' Prince George Galitzin and a numerous and efficient orchestra, together with the band of the Grenadier Guards, under the direction of Mr. Godfrey. Should the weather be favourable, Mad. Jullien will doubtless have bumpers in all the large towns, where the name of her lamented husband is a household word.

Mr. Willert Beale, the enterprising impresario, besides the party of artists to include Mad. Clara Novello, in her farewell tour, is organising a party for Mad. Grisi's farewell series of concerts; and also a brilliant company of vocalists, in which will be found Mad. Gassier, Mad. Viardot Garcia, Signor Graziani, the eminent barytone, and Signor Ciampi, the young buffo vocalist, who caused such a sensation, during the past season, at Her Majesty's Theatre.

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