more fortunate than Nourrit, in having had from his youth received a thorough musical education, and was then a most accomplished singer. Donizetti had written for him the part of Edgardo in Lucia di Lammermoor.

Nourrit's voice had certainly suffered somewhat; as far back as 1830 he had strained it too much in the days of the Revolution, on the stage and in other public places; and, at the period of which we are treating, his mental excitement, moreover, was not advantageous to the exercise of his art. But worse than all was the fact that this excitement cast a gloom over him, rendering him suspicious of others and unjust to himself. At one of his last performances of Masaniello, he remarked Duprez, of whose return to Paris (for after signing his engagement with the opera, Duprez had again proceeded to Italy) he was not aware, in a box with the manager of the opera. He instantly fancied they had both come to criticise his performance. His mental agitation scarcely allowed him to play out the first act; in the following acts, Lafond was obliged to take his place.

After the resolution which he took a short time subsequently, he really became, as he says in his letter, calmer; he sang the part of Stradella in March, and carefully and zealously prepared for his farewell appearance.

This took place on the 1st of April, 1837. He first played in the second act of Armida. The house was crammed to the ceiling, and the audience were indefatigable in showering upon him the marks of their approbation from beginning to end.

He began his tour by proceeding through Belgium and France. The success he everywhere met with led him astray; his resolve to devote himself to some other occupation was forgotten; the demon of the stage again seized on and carried him away. Nourrit determined to go to Italy, and replace at the San Carlo the man who had replaced him at the Opera in Paris.

While performing at Marseilles, he was seized with sudden hoarseness in the third act of the opera; pale, and with a look of despair, he left the stage. Two of his most intimate friends hurried round behind the scenes and found him in a state bordering on madness. He did not recognise them. With difficulty they placed him in an arm-chair, where he sat exhausted and without consciousness. Next morning, one of them went to see him. "How are you now, my dear Nourrit," he inquired. "Very bad," replied Nourrit, "I have not slept, and have wept a great deal; this very moment I was collecting all my moral energies to arm myself against evil thoughts. Life is becoming insupportable to me; but I know my duty. I have dear friends, a wife and children, whom I love, and for whom I must preserve myself and I believe in an eternal life. With such thoughts a man can obtain the mastery over himself. I fear, however, for my reason-if I lose that for a single instant, it is all over with me. Last night, here in this chair, did I pray to God for courage and strength, and read this holy book." The book was The Imitation of Christ.

The consequence of this attack was that he fell seriously ill, and was obliged to return to Paris. In the bosom of his family he recovered his health, and busied himself at the Conservatory of Music. But he did not persevere; his plan of going to Italy had become a fixed idea, and his unlucky star enticed him onward. He set out in the spring of 1838. He stopped for some time in

wife calmer, and my sister fell round my neck with joy on hearing my decision. "I have never striven to obtain great wealth; as, however, I have five daughters to provide for, I wish to place my retirement from the stage in such a light before the world as to command as much respect and consideration as possible. My present position is, on this account, especially favourable to me. All who love me approve of my intention; your approbation alone is wanting. I trust that you will not make me wait for it long, and that you will permit me to reckon on it beforehand.

"Farewell, my dear friend; if my reasons do not convince you, do not be in a hurry with your answer, for I am certain that in the end you will agree with my views.

"Yours with all my heart, "AD. NOURRIT."

Milan, where he frequently charmed the most distinguished society by his singing at Rossini's, and proceeded, by the way of Venice, Florence, and Rome, to Naples.

On the 7th April, 1838, he wrote as follows to Ferdinand Hiller :

"I trust, my dear friend, that since we bade each other farewell at Naples, you have sometimes thought of me; if not, you are an ungrateful man, for I have thought often, very often, of you. I have together in Venice, and remembered what a beneficial effect your comalways looked back with delight to the pleasant week which we spent pany had upon me.

"I have not written to you before, because I wanted to wait for the termination of the business which Rossini took in hand for me, previous to my departure from Milan. We were not able to come to any arrangement with the manager of La Scala; we should soon have agreed about money matters (you already know that money was never the principal consideration with me), but he could not give me the guarantee I required for my first appearance, and, in addition to this, the presence of Donzelli, who is engaged for the autumn and carnival Merelli must season, would have rendered my position a difficult one. therefore, for the trouble he had taken, and broke off the negotiation have a tenore sfogato, and that is not in my way. I thanked Rossini,

with the Milan management. For other reasons I am not sorry, howEmperor's coronation as King in Milan, every one will be more taken At the time of the ever, that the engagement came to nothing. up with the public festivals and ceremonies than with the theatre, and you know how important for me is the impression produced by my first appearance in Italy. I am not, on this account, the less resolved to follow up my Italian career; on the contrary, every step I take in this country enlists me the more in its favour, and I have a greater desire than ever to settle here and endeavour to regain the rank I held in Paris. The task is not an easy one, but it is that very reason which

excites me.

"When we are not contented with doing things by halves, we often strike on more than one rock of which we had no suspicion, and frequently overcome one obstacle merely to perceive another which we have to conquer with a fresh effort of our energy.

"It would not, however, have been worth while to give up so nothing for the fatigues of a long journey, and to bear the grief of brilliant a position as that which I enjoyed, to leave my home, to care parting and absence, if such sacrifices were to be made for something easily obtainable. No, by my troth! What I want is difficult to effect, and it is for this I want to effect it. A man does not lay aside the habits of five-and-twenty years in a fortnight, change his nature, or transform himself from a Frenchman into an Italian. Yet I must accomplish this, and I am working at it, from morning till evening, with courage and delight. It makes me eighteen years younger to begin my career afresh, nay, to be obliged to go through a new course of musical and vocal instruction; but, instead of costing me an effort, this state of studentship gives me pleasure. I do not shirk making myself very little in order to become greater; I stoop down, and take a spring, in order to rise as high as possible. Naples is an excellent place for me to gain the Italian accent, and get into the Italian ways; my family, Naples is the place which offers the most healthy diversion, then again, if I must still remain separated for any length of time from without taking into consideration the fact that the air cures sick singers, and must, consequently, be extremely beneficial to those who are well. Besides this, the people are very kind to me. Barbaja insists on my coming out here in Guillaume Tell, and I am only waiting till I have sung enough in Italian in order to be no longer obliged to sing in French; this is not a joke; the two manners and the two methods are so different, that, in my opinion, no one can sing both just as it suits his fancy. Donizetti supports me with his talent and with the influence his position gives him. His advice is excellent, and I already feel how beneficial it is to me. He treats me as a friend and as an artist, paying me no compliments and suffering no fault to pass unobserved; I sing with him every evening. He corrects me in every turn which smacks of the French style, in every sound which does not agree with the laws of Italian intonation, and, thanks to his frankness, and talent as a singing-master, I hope that, in a month or two, I shall not be recog nisable. I shall not be satisfied with people's saying, 'He sings in Italian very well for a Frenchman;' I mean them to say, 'Any one would take him for an Italian.' These are lofty pretensions, are they not?

“Adieu, my dear friend; think of me and write to say how far you have got on with your opera. I remain the whole summer in Naples. My address, &c. "AD. NOURRIT."

Letters to the Editor.

BELLISLE'S MARCH.

SIR,-Returning lately in one of the mail steamers from Brazil, some of our passengers were Welsh emigrants, who had been wrecked on that coast, and were on their way home to England. On the calm evenings they entertained us with singing as part songs their national melodies. Amongst these was the air of which I enclose my own reminiscences. My recollection of it is most imperfect, but it will be sufficient to enable any of your readers to recognise it who happen to know the original, which, to my mind, is one of the most beautiful national melodies extant.

year round. Now, poor Mr. Smith at Her Majesty's cannot get on without making it half and half. WHY do our poor English singers put up with it?

This is from one that loves music, and hears all she can afford to pay for. I should have sent this before, but I could not find out if you were an Englishman or not; and glad enough I was to find that prince of papers was edited by an Englishman. I have posted this in London, that you might be sure to get it, and put it in your paper for the good of the singers.

A TO A?-OR C TO C?

SIR,--Having seen the account of the presentation of a sevenoctuve piano to Dr. Miller in the MUSICAL WORLD, will any of your readers inform me, through the same source, whether the compass is from A to compass is from A to A or C to Č? The latter would be preferable, and I find they are, with the little makers, creeping into stock; and, as a natural consequence, the larger makers must follow suit. Your obedient servant, PIANO.

I have searched the music shops of London, and consulted all ordinary collections of Welsh melodies; but I have hitherto failed to discover any air resembling the one I send you. I myself, and I think all musical people to whom the air is unknown, will be glad if any of your correspondents can say what the air is, and where it is to be found. The Welshmen informed me that the English name was "Bellisle's March." They gave me also the Welsh name, but this I cannot remember. I can only recollect that the burden of the Welsh words related to a goose and a gander, which appeared to me a sorry subject for so pathetic a melody. Pimlico, Sept. 26th.

QUERY?

J. G.

SIR,-Do you think, say in a few years, that we shall get through an English festival without being obliged to call in Mesdames "this" and Signors "that," not because they sing better, or have better voices, simply because they are not English? Now, at the Worcester festival they got on WELL-at least it was supposed they did-and had not even a foreign conductor to put them right. Now, Mr. Editor, how was it done, and was it true that more cash for the charity was taken than for some years past? Now, is it not a pity that we do not help our own people, not that I dislike the foreign artists? On the contrary, I like them in the Italian season, and enjoy an Italian opera as much as an English one; but we ought not to be obliged to have them all the

MEYERBEER, &c.]

By C. L. G.

THREE Dinorahs! The first at the Théâtre de l'Opéra Comique in Paris, on the 4th of April, 1859; the second at the Royal Italian Opera, Covent Garden, on the 26th of July, 1859; and the third at the Royal English Opera, Covent Garden, on the 3rd of October, 1859. Three successes in French, Italian, and English, within six months! Three remarkable displays of executive skill, by artists of three countries! Who is the mighty magician whose potent spells have so fascinated and charmed such varied audiences as those assembled in London and Paris? Whose music is this that has so penetrated into the deepest recesses of the soul? Who is the musician whose privilege it is thus to bring nationalities together within one sympathetic and united circle-the domain of the lyric drama? Who has established this bond of union between two capitals on the neutral ground of art influence? Can any hesitation exist as to the composer whose works alone can account for the affinity? It is scarcely necessary to repeat here the name of Meyerbeer; it must at once suggest itself. He is now the master of the lyric world. He has revolutionised the lyric drama, as much as Beethoven revolutionised the symphony." Let Meyerbeer," wrote in 1811 his friend and fellow-student Weber, "only go forth in the paths of art, exercising the perseverance, assiduity, and discretion so manifest in him hitherto, and in his genius we may prophesy a rich ripe fruit." Weber's prophecy has been fulfilled; but even he could not have anticipated the extent to which Meyerbeer's invention and imagination have progressed. In his career there has been no finality. Germany gave him theory and techniformations in his school and style, destined to produce the mastercalities, Italy inspired him, and France consolidated the transpieces which the entire world now claims as the triumphs of lyric art. It has been a work of time with Meyerbeer. His blanks were drawn in the springtide of life; his prizes have become more valuable as he has advanced to the winter of his days. He is now in his sixty-sixth year, for he was born in Berlin in 1794, and yet musical Europe is anxiously waiting for his next grand opera, convinced that the culminating point in his career has not yet been reached, and that even another phasis of development may be expected from his ever-enduring fancy, matured judgment, and inexhaustible resources. With Meyerbeer music is both a faith and a mission. He looks upon the past as a mere apprenticeship-a beacon for the future-an incentive to go on to ameliorate, to refine, and to purify. With this innate persuasion, he will not trust to chance and the chapter of accidents. He scorns to trade on his name-to presume on his popularity. He must have his artists; he must prepare his public. He must be sure of his venture; he will not risk a reverse. A failure would kill him-he never could survive a defeat. His sensitiveness is the result of conscientiousness; hence his exactions from executive skill, his delays, his hesitations. Before the vessel is launched he will modify the form, alter the details. He has begun with a cockboat sometimes-he has left off with the construction of a ship of the

pieces. The Harmonicon, and the Quarterly Musical Magazine and Review, in their notices of the Crociato, in 1825, wrote in the most eulogistic terms; one passage from the last-mentioned organ so rightly appreciates the composer, that it merits quotation:"If a man unites the fulness of the German harmony with the grace of the Italian melody; if he collects the antecedents which are scattered here and there, and uses them to new and better purposes and effects; if he accumulates imagery, introduces unexpected, bold, and beautiful transitions; converts an ornament into an exclamation of passion, or gives an outline which a singer of expression fills up magnificently, the man who does all this at this time of day, we say, must be considered as an original and highly-gifted genius. And such we esteem Meyerbeer." The above might be written in 1860 as well as in 1825.

HER

(To be continued.)

[ER MAJESTY'S THEATRE-Lessee, Mr. E. T. SMITH. THIS EVENING (Saturday), October 13, will be repeated Macfarren's new and highly successful Opera of ROBIN HOOD. The music comand assistants. Robin Hood, Mr. SIMS REEVES; Sir Reginald de Bracy, Mr. SANTLEY; Hugo, Mr. GEORGE HONEY; Allan-a-Dale, Mr. PARKINSON; Little John, Mr. BARTLEMAN; Much, Mr. PATEY; Alice, Mad. LEMAIRE; and Marian. Mad. LEMMENS-SHERRINGTON. Conductor, Mr. CHARLES HALLE. On Monday, October 15, will be repeated Verdi's Opera of IL TROVATORE. Leonora, Mlle. TITIENS; Azucena, Mad. LEMAIRE; Il Conte di Luna, Signor BRIANI; Ferrando, Signor VIALETTI; and Manrico, Signor GIUGLINI. Conductor Signor ARDITI. To conclude with the new ballet divertissement of ORFA. On Tuesday, October 16, will be repeated (for the third time) Macfarren's new and highly successful Opera of ROBIN HOOD, with SIMS REEVES, SANTLEY, HONEY, LEMAIRE, and SHERRINGTON. On Wednesday, October 17, first night of IL DON GIOVANNI: TITIENS, VANERI, PAREPA, GASSIER, VIALETTI, CASTELLI, HERMANNS, and GIUGLINI. Reduced prices :-Pit Stalls, 78. 6d. ; Balcony, 5s.; First Circle, 4s.; Second Circle, 3s.; Upper Box Circle Seats, 25.; Pit, 2s. 6d.; Gallery 18.; Gallery Side Stalls, 1s. 6d. ; Gallery Stalls, 3s. Private Boxes: Upper Box, to hold four persons, 10s.; Private Box, third tier, to hold four persons, 11s.; Private Box, second tier, to hold four persons, 1 11s. 6d.; Private Boxes, Pit, first and Grand Tiers, two, three, and four Guineas. The Box-office of the theatre open daily, from 10 till 5 o'clock, under the direction of Mr. Nugent. Acting Manager, Mr. Mapleson. Stage Manager, Mr. R. Roxby.

posed expressly for this theatre by G. A. Macfarren. The scenery by William Beverley

ITALIAN Opera has of late years become almost as popular in the provinces as in London. No autumn, or winter, is now allowed to pass away in the principal towns of England, Ireland, and Scotland, without a visit from the song birds of the sunny south. Time was when, the great theatre in the Haymarket having closed its doors for the season, the singers took immediate flight to Paris, St. Petersburg, Vienna, or some of the Italian States, where their services were imperatively called for. Now, on the contrary, when the operatic year is over, many of the principal artists hasten neither to Paris nor Germany, to Italy nor Russia but prefer taking their course to the capitals of Ireland and Scotland, or to the large manufacturing towns of England, where, we have no doubt, they meet with far greater success, in a monetary sense, than in any of the continental

cities. Why they prefer this country to any other is simply because they are better paid. It does indeed seem extraordinary that towns with no artistic reputation attached to them should be able to compete, in the engagement of celebrities, with Naples, Milan, Turin, Venice, Vienna, or Madrid. At this moment, when nearly all the principal Italian theatres in Europe have their doors open, an operatic company with Mesdames Grisi and Viardot and Signor Mario at their head are performing in the provinces, and Mlle. Titiens and Signor Giuglini have just returned from a provincial tournée to commence a new season at Her Majesty's Theatre. The number of operatic singers who come to London is doubtless more than doubled since the opening of the Royal Italian Opera in 1846, and this gives entrepreneurs a greater chance of securing efficient artists for the country. Nevertheless, when all is surmised and the reasons sifted, we may, without violence, infer that the growing taste for Italian music is the principal cause of the establishment of Italian opera in the provinces.

The Italian performances this year in the provinces have been more than usually important and significant. Signor Verdi's Macbeth-one of his latest, and, if we are to trust continental reports, most powerfully dramatic operas—has been produced at Liverpool, Dublin, Glasgow, Manchester, and other towns with unequivocal success. Whatever the merits of this work, coming from the pen of the most popular composer of the day, it should not have been left to provincial managers or enterprising speculators to introduce it to the English public out of London. What has Mr. Gye been about, what Mr. E. T. Smith, both of whom are so deeply indebted to the author of Il Trovatore, Rigoletto, La Traviata, &c.? Moreover, that great artist, Mad. Viardot, who of late years has so strangely been overlooked by Italian, French, and English impresari, has been starring in many towns in the three kingdoms, with a success that really-if we are to accredit the local journals-may be denominated "unprecedented." Hear the Liverpool Journal of last Saturday, speaking of her performance of Azucena in the Trovatore:

"The greatest performance of the night, however, was Madame Viardot's Azucena. We have never witnessed on any stage a more splendid triumph of acting. The house was perfectly electrified by it; all that feeling of awkwardness which is apt to arise in one's mind at the opera in hearing men and women sing their feelings and hold passionate dialogues in music completely disappeared, and for the moment no allowance needed to be made for stage illusion; it seemed perfectly natural and necessary for the old gipsy to do exactly what she did. Nothing could be felt except the intense frenzy with which her every nerve appeared to vibrate; and the best compliment to the music is to record that even that passed unnoticed and unregarded whilst the wonderful paroxysms of rage lasted. It is only when thoroughly appropriate music meets with a thoroughly dramatic interpreter that such effects can be produced; in any other case either the singer spoils the music, or the music dwarfs the singer. We know of no living actress, unless it be Ristori, who, even without the additional difficulty of having to sing through it all, could have approached the abandon which Viardot threw into these passages; and those who could make the most promising attempt would have lessened its effect by the absence of that ineffable gracefulness which preserved this great artiste, even in the wildest moments of her frenzy, from the least appearance of exaggeration. Madame Viardot was as remarkable in every part of the performance as she was in these great bursts of power; and, it is quite unnecessary to say, sang the music perfectly."

Are Azucenas so plentiful that a singer and actress like Mad. Viardot is not a negotiable commodity in the music

*There are already two of them at the R. I. O., and four of them at H. M. T. Six of them is enough. We want Mad. Viardot for something better than a shrieking old gipsy." Sub."

market? We fear the directors of the Italian Operas do not always satisfy their subscribers in their selection of representatives of the gipsy mother. But Mad. Viardot obtains no engagement nevertheless. In a character immeasurably beyond that of Azucena, Lady Macbeth, in Signor Verdi's Macbeth, to the production of which at Liverpool we have just alluded, Mad. Viardot has obtained equal honour and praises.

"The one great redeeming feature of the performance," writes the Manchester Guardian, "was the perfect and splendid performance of Madame Viardot Garcia. It will readily be conceived by those familiar with that lady's histrionic powers, that the character of Lady Macbeth falls peculiarly within her range. While goading on her less bold partner to the murder of Duncan, the subtlety and dark cruelty of the woman were truthfully interpreted; nor less striking was her power when her husband, the deed being done,' glares in blank horror at his bloodstained hands, and she scornfully bids him look away-Storne da questo il ciglio.' Madame Viardot's crowning effort was rightly reserved for the sleep-walking scene. It was indeed a fearful realisation of the poet's purpose; and she received a well-deserved meed of applause."

A slight difference of opinion must certainly exist between the London and provincial public, or between London and provincial managers, when an artist lauded to the skies for her singing and acting by one is entirely ignored by the other. We are not sufficiently philosophers to find out the cause, but must leave it to time to unravel. How different in the case of Grisi and Mario, Titiens and Giuglini, whose successes everywhere have been nothing more than the echoes of their metropolitan triumphs.

Musical attraction in the provinces, however, has not been confined to Italian opera. Mr. Charles Hallé's Grand Concert at Manchester was a great event, although somewhat dulled by the non-appearance of Mr. Sims Reeves, whose duties at Her Majesty's Theatre, in the rehearsals of Robin Hood, precluded the possibility of his singing in Armida, which had been looked forward to with so much interest by all classes of Manchestrians. The Ninth Concert of the Philharmonic Society at Liverpool was another noticeable affair, at which Grisi, Viardot, and Mario sang, and Beethoven's Symphony No. 4 was executed.

Verily speculation is rife in the provinces, and metropolitan managers must not look to preserve a monopoly in Italian singers as they were wont to do in the olden times. Fortunately for the freedom of song, our country cousins have been taught to know the difference between a ballad and a cavatina, between a shake and a roulade, and hence Grisi or Titiens, Mario or Giuglini, is as welcome to a Hull or Bradford audience as to an audience metropolitan.

L

AST week we published an article enjoining operatic managers to practise economy in their manner of producing new works. Some may imagine that this was only an ingenious way of flattering them, for as a class they are not remarkable for any particular recklessness in theatrical expenditure. But we meant precisely what we said. At such establishments as the Académie Impériale of Paris, and our own Royal Italian Opera, the directors give too much new scenery and too little new music. We would not willingly accuse them of prodigality, and we have no doubt that they bargain in a proper commercial spirit for their stage magnificence, and purchase it on the lowest possible terms; but they fancy the public is to be taken by the eye more readily than by the ear, whereas we maintain that to take it by the ear is the great point, and that once having it by the ear, the manager may hold it as long as he thinks fit.

It has often been said, and in a particularly loud voice, by J. J. Rousseau, and after him by R. Wagner (who has borrowed every idea that he possesses), that "opera" does not mean exclusively a musical work, but a musical, poetical, and spectacular work all at once; that "opera," in fact, is "the work," par excellence, to the production of which all the arts are necessary. The very titles of the earliest operas prove this notion to be as absurd as we all feel it to be. The earliest Italian plays of a mixed character, not being constructed according to the ancient rules of tragedy and comedy, were called by the general name of "opera," the nature of the "work" being more particularly indicated by some such epithet as regia, regicomica, comica, tragica, scenica, sacra, esemplare, regia ed esemplare, &c.; and in the case of a lyrical drama, the words per musica, scenica per musica, regia ed esemplare per musica, were added, or the production was styled opera musicale alone. In time the mixed plays (which were imitated from the Spanish) fell into disrepute in Italy, while the title of" opera" was still applied to lyrical dramas, but not without "musicale" or " in musica" after it. This was sufficiently vague, but people soon found it troublesome, or thought it useless, to say opera musicale, when opera by itself conveyed, if it did not express, their meaning, and thus dramatic works in music came to be called "operas." A stupid abbreviation, perhaps, but scarcely more so than that of pianoforte into piano, general officer into general, Oporto wine into port, &c. We have even heard Frenchmen speak of the cornet à pistons as "le piston;" in spite of which a cornet and a piston are two very different things, and so also are the opera, as imagined by Rousseau and Wagner, and the opera musicale of reality. Algarotte's work on the opera (translated into French, and entitled Essai sur l'opéra) is called in the original Saggio sopra l'opera in musica. "Opera in music" would in the present day sound like a pleonasm; but it is as well to consider the true meaning of words, when we find fantastic pedants perverting their signification to suit their own ridiculous theories.

UR exquisite con-temporary, con-philosopher, con-wit,

con-humourist, and com-panion, Mr. Punch, of Templebar (outre), is even now, in this year of grace, 1860-or year of luck, "38" (dating the regeneration of criticism from the first volume of the MUSICAL WORLD)-occasionally seized with fits of harmonious madness, or as some might term it, melodious satire, or as others might term it, rhythmical pepsy. His jokes on such occasions assume the shape of sly digs at the shivering aristarchi who are permitted to stand on feet at the "sittings" of the Musical Union (as though for them the director was a monarch Johnella I.- and the quartets a perpetual "God save "), and quiet pokes at popular Pantagruelism, or enthusiasm, from the aesthetical point of view. When Mr. Punch begins to squeak, however, in a tone of raillery, it may be accepted as an axiom that something wrong, directly or indirectly, de bonne volonté or à rebrousse poil-in Latin, nolens volens is being perpetrated. Pedantry or mock zeal is sure to offend his nostril (an old inveterate habit of snuff-taking has made of him an uninarine), and invite his pinch. Under such provocation, ordinarily (as the wines of Champagne are reported to say "pish" to every other grape-yield), the ironical bites of Mr. Punch, though tant soit peu "Socratic," verily and truly-as our peninsularsnipping (and "vivacious") neighbours have it-"font nargue" à toutes les autres morsures. From divers sharp sentences

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