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CHARLES LUDER'S LATEST COMPOSITIO

PIANOFORTE. “ La Tarentelle" (dedicated to Ferdinand Praeger) Op. 41 Le Corsaire" (dedicated to Edouard Roeckel) Op. 42 . “ Six Romances Anglaises sans Paroles" (in two books each) "La Danse des Sorcières,” Op. 33 ... ... ... ... ..

VOCAL. “L’Emigré Irlandais” (dedicated to Mad. Sainton-Dolby) ... ...

London : Duncan Davison & Co., 244 Regent Street, W.

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JE W VOCAL MUSIC.

Name of Song

...

...

... Ditto Baxter

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Sung by.

Composer. S. “ I love YOU”

... Sims Reeyes ... M. W. Balse... 3 0 " Fresh as a Rose"

Ditto ... “ If I could change as others change

Laura Baxter

Ditto .. " The meadow gate"

. Wilbye Cooper ... G. B. Allen ... “ Wert thou mine”

Sims Reeves

Frank Mori... " Thou art so near and yet so far"

Herr Reichardt A. Reichardt.. " Good night" (cradle song) ...

... Ditto

Ditto ... ... 2 “ I never knew how dear thou wert" ...

... Miss Lascelles ... H. K. Morley, 2

NEW PIANOFORTE MUSIC. " I love YOU” Transcribed by ...

Emile Berger ... 30 Ditto Ditto (easy) ...

... J. Liebich ... “ Good ni

Ditto (moderately diff

icult)

... W. Kung ... Ditto Ditto (easy)

... J. Liebich ... Ditto Ditto (easy)

R. Andrews " Thou art so near Ditto (easy)

... Ditto ... ... 2 0 Ditio Ditto (very easy)

... Rudolf Nordmann. 10 Ditto Ditto, as a PIANO DUET

... Ditto

... ... 0 " Santa Lucia Ditty (easy) ...

... Eugène Moniot ... 1 " Leopold" .. Mazurka favourite

... Brinley Richards .. 2 “ Oberon "

S Fantasia, composed expressly for} G. B. Allen ... 5 0

" Miss Arabella Goddard ...
London : Published by Duncan Davison & Co., 244 Regent Street, W.

ALFE'S NEWEST and most POPULAR SON

“ SCHOTTISH D'AMOUR," by EUGENE MONIOT.

D The above new Schottish by the popular composer of " A Summer's Day," is just published, price 28., by Duncan Davison & Co., 244 Regent Street, W.

“ I love you" (Sung by Sims Reeves) ... ...
" Fresh as a Rose” (Ditto)

charse »
.

un Laura Bitter) *** "If I could change as others change" (Sung by Laura Baxter) ... “ I'm not in love, remember" (Sung by Miss Parepa) ...

" Oh ! take me to thy heart again " (Sung by Miss Poole) Published by Duncan Davison & Co., 244 Regent Street, W.; where “ I love you" may be obtained, transcribed for the Pianofore by Emile Berger, price 38.

19 Noor

NEW HARP MUSIC by C. OBERTHUR, 6 Thou art

so near and yet so far." Reichardt's popular song transcribed for the Harp by C. Oberthür, is just published, price 3s.. by Duncan Davison & Co., 244 Regent Street, w.

" A ULD LANG SYNE," varied for the Pianoforte by

1 Albert Dawes, price 5s., is published by Duncan Davison & Co., 244 Re.

NE

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N E W PIANO F O R TE DU E T S.

DIFFICULT. Don PASQUALE (introducing " Com è gentil ") Ricardo Linter ... ... 50

MODERATELY DIFFICULT. “ The last rose of Summer" (with variations) Mrs. Mounsey Bartholomew 30

Very Easy. “ Thou art so near" (Reichardt's popular Lied) Rudolf Nordmann ... ... 10

London: Duncan Davison & Co., 244 Regent Street, W.

" This is a series of nine variations on the above popular air, and possesses a beauty seldom found in this class of music, namely, that the air is heard in all the variations It is a good piece for practice, and not too difficult for the generality of placers. We heartily recommend it to our musical friends, to many of whom Mr. Dawes is already favourably knowu as a composer."-Hastings and St. Leonard's News.

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W EBER'S LAST WALTZ, transcribed by F. ROSEN

peld. This is one of the best arrangements for pupils, yet offered to the public, of the above admired waltz. It is published, price 28., by Duncan Davison & Co., 244 Regent Street, W.

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L POSITIONS.

PIANOFORTE. “ Auld Lang Syne" (wi h variations) “ Hastings Waltz." “ Anacreontic Quadrille" (on populär Glees)" “ Hastings Polka"... " Southdown Polka"

VOCAL. " I slept, and oh ! how sweet the dream” ... “Good bye, my love, good bye"

London : Duncan Davison & Co., 244 Regent Street, W.

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“ SANTA LUCIA," by EUGENE MONIOT. The above

D popular Neapolitan melody specially arranged (with pianists, by Eugène Moniot (composer of * A Summer's Day") is just published, price ls., by Duncan Davison & Co., 244 Regent Street, W.

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D F. HARVEY'S NEW PIECES for the PIANO. U. FORTE.

8. d. " Cup d's Repose" (Melody) " Pensez à moi" (Révérie) ...

London : Duncan Davison & Co., 244 Regent Street, W. " Mr. Harvey's compositions are marked by a decided originality of character. A delightful flow of thoughtful melody pervades all his works. Mr. Harvey, as a writer of music for drawing-room performance, is justly becoming one of the most popular of the day.”-Globe.

VOOD NIGHT,” (Cradle Song-Wiegenlied) com

posed by AleXANDER ReicHARDT, price 2s.6d. London: published by Duncan Davison & Co., 244 Regent Street, W.

The day, pretty darling, draws.near to its close,

Come, cease from your play, on your pillow repose,
You peep from the cradle still laughing and bright,

Kind angels for ever preserve you, good night.
With freedom from sorrow, dear child, you are blest,

To you a pure heaven is your fond mother's breast;
Wild passion some day will your happiness blight.

Kind angels preserve you, my darling, good night.
Ah ! happy is he who can slumber like you,

Be ever, dear child, to your innocence true,
The righteous are watched by the spirits of light,
Who guard them while sleeping, my darling, good night.

" THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER," as a Piano Duet,

1 arranged with variations by Mrs. Mounsey Bartholomew, is just published, price 3s., by Duncan Davison & Co., 244 Regent Street, W.

N.B. The above piece will be found suitable for pupils, moderately advanced. Mrs. Mounsey Bartholomew's acknowledged experience in tuition is a guarantee of the excellence of the above arrangement for that purpose.

TIMANUEL AGUILAR'S LATEST COMPOSI-
TIONS.
VOCAL.

8. d. "In a wood on a windy dav” (poetry by Acton Bell)

3 0 " Sympathy" (poetry by Ellis Bell) "Farewell" (poetry by Bishop Heber)

PIANOFORTE. “Sunset glow” (Révérie) (Dedicated to Mrs. Robert Cartwright.)

London : Duncan Davison & Co., 244 Regent Street, w.

" Few songs of modern days have achieved a more decided or better merited success than Herr Reichardt's charming lied, "Thou art so near and yet so far," which has for the last two years been the delight of all concert-goers and drawing-room vocalists of more than ordinary pretensions. Messrs. Duncan Davison and Co. have just published a new composition, from the same original and elegant pen, entitled " Good Night" (a cradle song). The words are exquisitely simple and unaffected, being the address of a mother to her sleeping babe ; and it is but justice to llerr Reichardt to say that be has wrdded an exquisite domestic poem to a most graceful, unaffected melody, which breathes the very spirit of maternal tenderness. The song, which is written for a tenor voice-the composer teing, as our readers know, one of the first of living German vocalists-is in the key of F major ; and to amateurs of taste we can cordially recom. mend " The Cradle Song " as a composition worthy of their attention." -Liderpoel Musl.

NEW SONG-" That Handsome Volunteer," sung by

Miss Emma Stanley in her popular entertainment of the “Seven Ages of Woman," composed especially for her by Emile Berger, is published, price 28. 6d., by Duncan Davison & Co., 244 Regent Street, W.

NEW WALTZ. “ The Woman in White,” Valse mys

térieuse, by Charles Marriott, dedicated to Wilkie Collins, Esq., is just pubI lished price 3s., by Duncan Davison & Co., 244, Regent Street, W.

MUSIC AND THEATRES IN PARIS.

{From our own Correspondent.')

November 10.

The month of November is not propitious to the operntic or dramatic world. A skirmishing party of colds, catarrhs, and influenzas prelude the advance of winter, and many a distinguished artist, disabled, has to retire to the rear. Among others, M. Gueymard has been incapacitated by a severe lumbar affection, or, as we should say, a lumbago, and the revival of Halevy's Juive would have had to be postponed had not a M. R6nard been in readiness to supply the gap. Mile. Marie Sax made her first appearance in the part of Rachel, and thoroughly succeeded in the attempt. Mad. Vandenbeuvel-Duprez, as the Princess Eudoxia, was no less successful; while M. Renard looked the character of Eleazar to perfection, and acquitted himself of the music to the entire satisfaction of the audience. All three artists were called before the curtain. This revival, it is presumed, will carry the opera on to the production of the new ballet which, it is expected, will do great things. There has been considerable debate as to the title under which it is to appear. One of the authors was anxious to confer on it the Italian name Far/alia, which, being interpreted, signifieth butterfly. This was objected, however, with sohie show of reason, on the ground that the scene of the ballet is in Circassia; whereupon the Circassian term for that coleopterous insect was suggested, namely, Kelebek, but the sound was deemed too harsh for Parisian ears. The Persian synoyme, Pervaueh, was rejected for the like cause. Why all this overhauling of oriental dictionaries should be thought necessary it is difficult to conceive, when the French word PapiUon would be at once euphonious and intelligible, without the aid of any moonshee or dragoman whatever; or again, the name of the principal personage, Leikt, would be an unexceptionable title. It is curious how important a title is considered to be in theatrical circles, and how really little depends on it beyond the first few nights. Success will make the obscurest and most baroque title clear and euphonious as the jingling of louis<fors.

The Italian Opera has been in a perfect torrent of prosperity. The reappearance of Mario, and the return of Ronconi to Paris after an absence of ten years, have been the very intelligible cause of this flood of good fortune. Mario, Ronconi, and Alboni are the only Almaviva, Figaro, and Rosina of the day, and we doubt whether either has been surpassed of yore. The good Parisians, for once, are sensible of this artistic verity, and applaud them adnubes.

The new opera comique by Scribe and Auber is in full preparation. The principal artists to whom it is to be intrusted are Mile._ Monrose, Mile. Prevost, MM. Montaubry, Couderc, Barrielle and Ambroise. There is also immediately forthcoming a new opera in one act by MM. Sauvage and Ambroise Thomas. It is generally reported that an important change is about to take place in the artistic staff of the Opera Comique. Mad. Ugalde is to retire and Mad. Saint-Urbain is to exchange the boards of the Italian stage for those of the Salle Favart.

At the Theatre Lyrique Orphie has been taken up again with Mad. Viardot, who has thus anticipated the period announced for her reappearance, namely the beginning of January. A Mile. Oruil made her debut in Gluck's Opera with some success. Her voice is fresh and flexible, though somewhat weak in the middle notes.

The Francais has had a successful new comedy by M. Camille Doucet, entitled La Consideration. Regnier, Geffroy, Monrose, Uressant, and Mesdaraes Guyon, Favart, and Figiac play in it, all of whom are said to have good parts.

Theminor theatres have not been doing much. At thePalaisRoyal there has been a parody of Octave Feuillet's new drama Redemption, and at the Varictes a new vaudeville called Guide de rEtranger dans Paris, in which Le Clerc and Mile. Alphonsine play. Both novelties are by the same authors.

Nov. 20.

M. Gueymard having recovered the painless flexibility of his lumbar regions, the run of the Prophite has been resumed. It is fixed that the new ballet is to be called Le PapiUon. A grand rehearsal has just taken place, at which Mad. Taglioni (the inventor of the ballet) was present, and we may expect the first night without delay.

Mad. Penco has made her first appearance this season in La Traviata. She was recalled at the end of the first act, after the grand air "Follie, follie," and was warmly applauded in the brindisi, the duets with Gardoni and Graziani, and the whole of the third act.

The Opera Comique is up to the roof in preparatives. Another new opera, entitled Andre, in two acts, has been accepted. The words are by M. de Leuven, and the music by M. Porse. At the same time the new opera by Scribe and Auber is being zealously pushed forward. Meanwhile Mad. Cabel has been re-engaged, and has played in La Part du Diable and VEtoUe du Nord. Mile. Saint-Urbain, of whose intended debut at this house I said something in my last, is to play the principal part in M. Offenbach's new opera, instead of Mad. Ugalde.

The Odeon has just put forth an amusing "proverb," entitled Une Epreuve apres la Lettre, and the Palais Royal presents its frequenters with a parody on Orphee, called Xai perdu mon Eurydice. At the Varietes we are promised a '■'■Revue," with the title Oh la, la, que e'est bete tout ga. The gods avert the omen! Kay.

VIENNA.
{From our own Correspondent.)

Nov. 6, 1860.

A Second hearing of Her Fliegender Hollander confirms the impression that it is the most satisfactory and the least eccentric of all Wagner's operas. Written apparently before the ambitious intention of forming a new school of music for the future had seized and fettered the mind of the composer, it is a work containing some of the freshest and most vigorous efforts of his genius. Instances certainly occur where novel effects are attempted, in which the style subsequently adopted by Wagner is foreshadowed; but they are rare and almost forgotten in the many points of excellence to be admired. The overture—a composition of neither the form nor importance to justify that title—opens with a subject which most frequently recurs throughout the work. This theme pervades the opera, and is that with which the Hollander, in thought and presence, is identified. It is very effectively introduced, as the commencement of Senta's ballad in the second act, when she relates the story of the Flying Dutchman, and foretells her own destiny. Whether dramatically or musically considered, the treatment of this subject is most successful, and increases the interest of the whole work by the skilful manner in which it is made subservient to the progress of the plot. The notion may not be original, but its development evinces a knowledge of the resources of his act, which none but a thorough musician can attain.

To the first act the storm and the chorus of sailors on board Daland's ship form a spirited introduction. As the tempest temporarily subsides, the tenor solo, a mariner's love song, contrasts well with the preceding and subsequent description of the elemental strife. The storm rises again (most graphically portrayed in the orchestra), as the vessel of the Flying Dutchman appears. The grand scena of the Hollander, "Die Frist ist um," and his following duet with the bass (Daland), are both in Weber's style, and would not be unworthy of that master's signature. The act terminates with a chorus of sailors as the ships set sail. After a short instrumental prelude the second act begins with a melodious chorus for female voices, sung by Senta's companions, while they spin. In this a striking effect is made by the women laughing in chorus, jeering Senta for her melancholy. Then follows Senta's ballad already mentioned, a composition full of character and dramatic feeling; after this there is a duet between the soprano and tenor, Senta and Erik, her betrothed, when the lover urges his suit in a most plaintive melody, not altogether new, but so harmonised and instrumented as in a great measure to disguise its Italian origin. At the conclusion of the duet Erik departs, and Daland (Senta's father) returns accompanied by the Hollander, in whom Senta recognises the object of her ideal love and destiny. It is in the treatment of this situation, the most important moment of the libretto, that the composer fails. The Hollander and his victim are made to stand and look at each other for some time, while their emotions, supposed to be under various influences, verv inadequately depicted by music in the orchestra. The result is such as might be expected—the situation is lost. A solo for Daland, "Mogst du, mein Kind," the duet between Senta and the Hollander, " Wie aus der Feme," and a terzetto for the three just named, are the other morceaux in this act. The third and last act opens with a chorus of sailors about to leave the port; they are joined by women bringing provisions. The ship of the Hollander, lying at anchor, is hailed by the women and sailors, but no reply- is given by the mysterious crew. Suddenly the wind rises, and the spectral mariners man their ship, singing the refrain with which the Hollander has been identified. A double chorus between the two ships' crews follows, and is the noisiest and least effective piece of music in the opera. Senta subsequently appears, followed by Erik, who endeavours to dissuade her, in a duet allegro agitato, "Was musst ich horen," from following the Hollander. The last finale, in which Senta, Daland, the Hollander, the choruses of the sailors, and the women take part, is admirably contrived, and forms a fitting termination to the work. It is somewhat singular that Wagner should consider the Fliegender Hollander as the least important of his operas, another instance that composers are not by any means the best judges of their own productions.

At the Kiirntnerthor Theatre the repertoire is almost similar to that of last week. Sonic changes will, I believe, be made in the performances announced, for even an opera house, under the management of an Emperor's representative, is not exempt from such casualties. "I have sent word that I shall not sing this evening," exclaimed one of the artistes whom I met yesterday. "Not sing," I replied; "but you are announced, and will not surely disappoint us." "No,no! I won't disappoint you," was the reply. "But let the Director think so. A few hours' Bauchzwicken will do him no harm."

THE ORGAN*

Eleventh Stddt.The Second Principal Cause Of QuAirrr Of Tone, Viz., Form.The Form Of The Body Of The Pipes.

TnE form of the pipe may vary without any corresponding variation taking place in the quality of the tones. If in the column of air in the pipe the nodes of the vibrations are at exactly equal distances one from the other, it matters little whether the pipe is cylindrical or prismatic in its form; but if the vibrating portions are not equal to one another, then, in the open flue pipes as well as in the reeds, the form of the body of the pipe, of the vibrating apparatus, and of the foot of the pipe boxes, will vary the quality of the tone into an infinite variety of shades. Nevertheless, these variations in quality of tone are not always produced in the same way in the two kinds of pipes, for in the flue pipes, closed or open, the real sounding body is the column of air enclosed within the tube ; in the reed pipes it is the reed itself.

It has been already clearly shown that the communication between the column of air in the pipe and the air outside is in proportion to the diameter of the pipe, consequently, the narrower the pipe is, the less will be the communication between the air inside of it and the air outside, the wider the pipe the greater the communication, and the quality of the sound will follow the same proportions. Now in the flue pipes not only does fineness of scale so lessen the column of air in the pipe as to put in communication with the air outside nothing but the merest thread of a voice, but this communication itself, as regards the head of the pipe, may be completely intercepted, as in the bourdon. And in this last case the pipe will no longer sing as an open flue pipe with a full chest voice, so to say, but will make use of a sort of ventriloquism, or low murmuring sound (bourdonnemcnt); in other words, it will emit that sound from which it gets both its name and its peculiar quality of tone. This bourdon quality, too, has an existence of its own quite independenlly of that thinness of tone that fineness of scale would also give to a pipe.

The influence that form has in giving a special character to the communication caused by the vibrations between the air in the pipe and the air outside is such, that in proportion as it makes the coni

* From L'Orgue,sa Cannaitsance, son Adminitfrativn, et son Jeu, by Joseph Ui-giiior.

munication to be fuller and more direct, it will be the cause in the open flue pipes as well as in the reeds, not only of a stronger sound, but of a brighter quality of tone, though in reed pipes variations in the scale produce different degrees of power rather than different qualities of tone, properly so called. This is true of all form, but the special sort of form, of which we have to consider the influence here, according to our promise at the end of the last chapter, is that which consists in the various combinations of different scales in one and the same pipe, for these combinations really are the cause, not only of different degrees of power, but also of different qualities of tone.

Let us take, then, as an example of this sort of form, a pipe made up of several scales, laid one over the other, without having their transitions very distinctly marked, as would be the case in a pyramid-shaped pipe. The column of air will be divided throughout this pipe, as it is in a cylindrical one, into separate vibrating portions, each of which portions will be exactly like every other as regards the particular note it will emit, but unlike them with regard to length. For where the diameter is narrower the vibrating portion of the air will be much longer than where the diameter is wider. So that in that part of the pipe where the diameter is wider, at the ba-e of the pyramid that is, the sound produced will tend towards power and fulness; but that produced by the upper part at the apex of the pyramid, where the diameter is narrower, will tend towards the reverse of this. The nearer we get to the head of this sort of pipe, which ends almost in a point, the weaker does the sound become, until, passing on from layer to layer, we arrive at last at its very top, and there we shall find that it has attained its greatest degree of thinness. The diameter, in becoming thus nan owed at its end, according to the ordinary laws, would give the sound of the very fine scale; but then we must remember that this sort of quality would be tempered by the gradual variations taking place in the column of air, beginning at the very head of the pipe, where it would be of the quality of the very fine scale, down to the base of the pyramid, where it would be of the quality partly of the mean, and partly of the full scale.

Let us take another example from amongst the pipes in -which one scale may be said to be laid over the other. It shall be a pipe which is partially stopped at its head—a yuasi-bourdon,or flue-pipe u cheminee, as it is called. The tube, from its base to about threequarters of its height, is a regular cylinder. It is then stopped like a bourdon, except that a small space is left open at the centre of the lid, a small cap, into which another pipe is inserted. This second pipe is no larger in diameter than the space left open in the cap, and is only a few inches high. It is called the chimney {cheminee), because the sound may be said to make its escape by it, as the smoke does by the chimney; and it is from this that this kind of compound pipe gets its name, flue-pipe a cheminee. Now, let us put together the different kinds of sounds, or qualities resulting from the two scales, here placed one over the other. First, we shall have the quality of tone, which is proper to the pipe that extends from the mouth to the base of the little chimney, and that will be the quality of tone of an open flue-pipe. Next, as this open pipe is partly closed by the cap at its head, for so much of it as is thus closed we shall also have the quality which is peculiar to the bourdon pipe; and lastly, from the little pipe or chimney fastened into the cap, which, as compared to the larger pipe, is a pipe of very fine scale, we shall also have the quality of this scale. Here then in one pipe we have three distinct qualities of tone, and from the combination of these three we get a musical qnality of tone which is both soft and loud at the same time, and in which the special characteristics of this threefold combination are very distinctly marked; so much so, indeed, that an experienced builder or tuner would have no difficulty in recognising at once in the fluepipe d cheminee, 1st, the quality of tone of a bourdon; 2nd, the quality of tone of a bourdon of such and such a scale; and 3rd, the quality of tone of a bourdon combined with that of an open flue-pipe of very fine scale and of a lively quality.

As the sound naturally follows the sides of the pipe in the direction of their width, the conic or hyperbolic form is with good reason employed for widening out the sound or increasing its volume. This is the rationale, so to say, of the speaking-trumpet. If this instrument is made too long it will produce a low murmuring sound (bourdonnement), which will hinder the words pronounced in it from being distinctly heard, and with regard to it too great length of tube would of course be simply fatal. But with regard to reed pipes, the result would be just the reverse; for all writers on these matters recommend organ-builders not to cut reed pipes too short, for fear they should be wanting in brightness and this very bourdon effect, an effect, which, in their case,is by no means a cause of confusion. Lately, too, an eminent natural philosopher (M. Poisson), has shown how this recommendation of practical men is good, not only in practice, but theory. For he shows that the separate vibrating portions of air, urged by the impetus given to the column of air in the direction of its width in an extended cone, acquire a force and fulness of play which they would never acquire by merely following the straight sides of a pipe, which is simply cylindrical. And hence we may conclude that the sound ■which is produced by cone-shaped pipes in an organ, is the most open, the most grand and magnificent quality of tone that can possibly be got from any sounding body. But since the coneshaped pipe, owing to the great width of its head, takes up a great deal of space on the sound-board—since, again, the open flue-pipes made of this shape do not speak their proper note, unless each of them is cut with the greatest accuracy to the exact length required for each particular note; and since, without going to considerable expense in making experiments, there is consequently great danger of cutting them false, builders never make use of the cone-shaped pipe for more than one series of stops, namely the reeds.

The cone-shaped pipe, then, has a quality of tone which is peculiar to itself. This might be still further varied by taking a pipe of the speaking-trumpet shape and covering it with another as a lid. The two pipes thus treated would give us a pipe made up of two cones, more or less alike at the ends, but exactly so at their bases, placed inversely one against the other, and fastened together so as to leave no opening but a very small one at the end. In this pipe we should have at the centre a quality of tone full and ample, so to say, as the pipe itself is, but becoming less and less so as it approaches more nearly the narrower ends of the pipe. Examples of a pipe of an exactly opposite form may be met with in ancient German organs*, of a pipe that is made up first of two cones joined one to the other in the way described above, and then of a third cone fastened by its end to the end of the second of the two first cones. But every day the art of organ-building tends towards its perfection by becoming more simple, and by ridding itself of useless fancies. Moreover, it is not part of our plan to give an exact list of all the various kinds of combinations, scales, and forms, and consequently of qualities of tone which there either are or might be, otherwise we should never have done, still less to inquire into all the possible causes of all the different qualities of tone; on the contrary, it is strictly limited to giving a sufficient account of the principal causes of quality of tone in general, without attempting to carry our researches any further into the more hidden mysteries of the same. We will do no more than cite one other example of form as affecting quality of tone, and we do so because it has at least the merit of being a praiseworthy attempt towards the reduction of the immense bulk of the organ.

The learned savant, who speaks of this form while he is considering our subject strictly from the scientific point of view, shows that by diminishing the length of the speaking part of the pipes, and by enlarging their scale in proportion, a column of air can be got, the vibrations of which will be the same as those of the column of air set in motion within a pipe of the ordinary form. It may be taken for granted that open pipes and bourdons thus cubic in form would not be wanting in purity of tone, and as to its quality, it would have certainly all the conditions of the greatest fulness of tone, but this fulness would be softened down as well because of the want of thickness in the longitudinal layers of sound in the pipe, as because of the ease with which these same layers would be crossed and divided by the air outside, in the passage of the sound from the pipe to the ear. Perhaps a very fair idea of the kind of quality of such pipes may be got from that of the ophicleide, which is large in its scale but limited as regards its length; and though this kind of quality would be far from being perfect, still, we repeat, all attempts made with a view to being useful to an art are not unworthy of respect, although not attended with complete success. Unfor

* See Seydel, Orgel, und ihr Ban. Verba Barpfeife.

tunately for such attempts, practical men who have made trial of them assert that cubic-shaped pipes cannot be made to as to produce any but the most dull and hard quality of tones, nor without giving rise to the most perplexing difficulties upon the sound-board from want of room. This may be true; but then it must be borne in mind that it' is the conclusion of men who, perfect though they may be as regards the practice of their art, limit their ideas wholly to that, and would not for their lives venture one step out of the region of practice into that of theory.

STAGE AND PULPIT.

BOX V. PEW.
(From the Leeds and West Riding Express.)

It is said that men resemble their grandfathers far more than they suspect,—the habits of their bodies rather than their souls making the chief difference. It strikes us, however, that large numbers of them resemble rather their grandmothers. Certainly it is undeniable that gentlemen daily thrust themselves before the public with such striking old-womanly qualities and habits of thought, that it is difficult to account for their escape from the petticoats and pattens suitable for such dear, good, silly souls. We do not wish to say anything offensive of Mr. Jowitt, the hon. secretary of the Leeds Ragged School. We take it for granted, that in writing his letter to Mr. Thorne he acted for others as much as for himself; and therefore we shall not say anything of a harsh nature to Mr. Jowitt personally. But the supposition which we give him the benefit of, forces upon us the unpleasant conclusion that we must have in Leeds—and we say this notwithstanding the good work these men are engaged in—some of the silliest, most stupid, and impertinent specimens of piety to be found in connection with any system of M>ligion on the face of the earth. It is intolerable that these people, by the puerility and disgusting offensiveness of their acts, should bring a sublime religion into contempt,—a religion which, through being bewildered by pious conceit, they can neither feel nor understand.

Mr. Thorne, the manager of our theatre, in a generous spirit, creditable to him as a man, offered one night's receipts of his theatre to help the friends of the Ragged School. We honour him for the act; and if the managers of that charity either understood the religion they profess to believe in, or the literature of their country, they would have accepted the offer with gratitude and thanks, instead of thrusting back ungraciously the kindly hand held out to them. We do not reprove these people by saying that Lord Palmerston, whom they trotted out the other day to help their friends, is not only a patron of the theatre, but of the tur also; nor do we inform them that the highest lady in the land —whose visit a short time since to our town was looked upon as the most important event that ever happened in connection with it—patronises the drama; although we dare say that such considerations would influence them more than any other. Nor shall we tell them that the actors on the stage are not the worst performers in the world; some of the very worst and most dishonest perform in the pulpit, and are sometimes applauded, too, by those who turn their backs with scorn on the honest men of the sock and buskin. If these modern Pharisees were not drunk with spiritual pride, as partially educated Englishmen, they would know that the greatest human intellect the world holds knowledge of was exercised in creating the best specimens of the finest dramatic literature the world possesses. Who can stand up and say that the faculty given by God to Shakspeare had not its tendencies from the same divine source! Or who with loving heart can read the beautiful and sublime lessons of the great bard, and not acknowledge the beneficence of his genius. Intellectually, there is as much difference between Shakspeare and the pious insects of Leeds, as between Micromegas, the giant of Sirius, and the little men who, when he came to this earth, crawled upon his thumb nail.

We are thankful to these little pious people for the good they do, for everythiug in the economy of nature has its use, and if they were disposed to perform their work with the humbleness and modesty which usually accompany sincerity and good sense, they would be entitled to the respect and support of their fellowcitizens. But they must not forget that, next to those divine injunctions promulgated in regard to the destitute and the needy, the highest and the best are those which Shakspeare and the other great dramatists of England have left us as an inheritance by which to nourish a spirit of charity and manliness. What better text could those have who superintend Ragged Schools, or look after and relieve the necessities of the houseless poor, than the words put into the mouth of King Lear, when, bare-headed and storm-beaten, he cries out: —

"Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads, and unfed sides,
Your loop'd and windowed raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en
Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp—
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
That thou may'st shake the superflux to them,
And show the heavens more just."

And these are amongst the teachings of the poor players who strut and fret their hour upon the stage;—but still, we hope, like all their fellow-creatures, doing their common duties, as Milton says, in " The great taskmaster's eye," and responsible to Him, notwithstanding their utter unworthiness in the eyes of the committee who manage the Leeds Ragged School. If Mr. Jowitt and his friends participated more largely in the great humanities of the stage, and a little less in the narrow bigotry and dirty pride of the pew, they would have known that mercy shown by man to man, by the strong to the weak, by the rich to the poor, dropped

"as the gentle rain from heaven,
Upon the place beneath; is twice bless'd,—
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes."

But the mercy of Mj. Thorne, expressed practically by a night's receipts of his theatre, so far as the Leeds Ragged School is concerned, lost its virtue in both ways, as the gifts, through being refused, robbed both parties of the benefit to be derived from it.

We should like our pious friends to reflect, if they can, on the loss which our land would have suffered, if Shakspeare and the mighty men who laboured in his craft,—or in his double craft, for he was both play writer, and play actor,—had never lived, never written, or never represented to us on the stage those vices and virtues, those strengths and weaknesses, those joys and sorrows, which make up so much of the sum of human life. We cannot consent to place the actor in the category of the leper, that he may be shunned for fear of contagion; we know that at this moment Macready is spending a portion of the money earned by him on the stage, for the education of the young in the neighbourhood where he proposes to end a life, which in its usefulness has been far greater, we are satisfied, than that of any Ragged School patron in Leeds, and which has given more real pleasure to the world than the lives of the whole lot would, if put together and stretched out to patriarchal lengths. The next thing we shall hear of will be the refusal of burial in consecrated ground to those who write or act plays. An impudence like this, once permitted to assert itself, will not know where to stop. Mr. Jowitt may think, that according to his views, he is doing the actors justice, and will say, as Polonius said to Hamlet, "My Lord, I will use them according to their desert," to which, however, we would reply as Hamlet did, "Odd's bodikin, man, much better; Use every man after his desert and who shall 'scape whipping? Use them after your own honour and dignity. The less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty." Hamlet, however, was a philosopher; what Mr. Jowitt and his brother committeemen are, the public of Leeds, we should imagine, by this time understand pretty correctly.

Mes. Thomas Perry, formerly organist of the parish church, Edmonton, who was chosen teacher of music to the Infant Orphan Asylum, Wanstead, for her high class testimonials, as an organist, in September, 1859, has recently been appointed organist to the new chapel of that institution. The organ is from the factory of Gray and Davison, and well sustains the reputation of its builders.

MADAME NOVELLO'S FAREWELL CONCERT.

Ocr English Jenny Lind sang her last notes on Wednesday night in St. James's Hall. The audience was worthy of the occasion—so numerous that locomotion was scarcely possible, and so discriminating that only the most exquisite manifestations of artistic skill succeeded in raising any enthusiastic demonstrations of approval. Mad. Novello's "Farewell" was in keeping with her past and honourable career. Not a single " trap " was laid to entice applause from the unreflecting. It was a manifestation of pure unadulterated art from beginning to end; and at the termination of the concert the vast assembly dispersed with the most intimate conviction that music had lost one of its most gifted and justly distinguished representatives. About a quarter of a century has elapsed since Clara Novello first came before the public, with a voice that at once elicited unanimous admiration, as one of the most perfect sopranos—allowing even for Billington, Paton, and Stephens— England had produced within the memory of the oldest amateurs, and a talent of such marked promise as warranted unrestricted belief in the future eminence of its young possessor All that was predicted then— not merely by those who, like Charles Lamb, regarded the late Vincent Novello, Clara's father, as a phcenix among musicians (see " Chapter on Ears," in the Essays of " Elia "), bnt by impartial observers, who had never listened to the ineffable harmony flowing from the fingers of that most sublime and "inexplicable" of organist*—was more than realised. Miss Novello went to Italy, and as "the Clara," made the " drlices" of the Scala at Milan, and other first-class theatres. Her return to London led to a series of professional triumphs almost without example, only arrested by her marriage with an Italian nobleman, and ber consequent (temporary) retirement from the arena of public exhibition.

What were the reasons that induced Madame Novello (the Contests

) to resume her professional career is no business of ours. Enough

that she was welcomed back with rapture by all genuine lovers of the musical art, and that she who had figured conspicuously on the stage, as a representative of the most arduous characters in the lyric drama, now devoted her admirable talents exclusively to the concert-room, and most especially to oratorios and sacred music. It is not too much to say that the performances at Exeter Hall, and at our great provincial festivals, have, for the last ten years or thereabout, owed a very large part of their attractions to the singing of this accomplished lady, who, in conjunction with Mr. Sims Reeves, to whom devolved the mantle of the elder Braham, have maintained the English school at such a height as, by the consent of well-judging foreigners themselves, to <lefy all foreign competition. It is almost superfluous to cite the well-remembered compliment paid to Mad. Novello by the most illustrious composer of his time, who, when applied to by the Philharmonic Society to recommend for the Philharmonic Concerts "the two best singers n Germany,'' named Clara Novello and another, then performing at the Leipsic Gewandhaus; bnt the opinion of Mendelssohn was merely an echo of the universal verdict throughout musical Europe; and he who, before all other gifts, admired a classical purity of style, in all probability throughout his short and brilliant career had never met with a more signal example of what was most thoroughly to his taste than in the lady whose name his pen first traced in answer to the application of the Philharmonic directors.

Of these and other matters relating to Mad. Novello's career, we have, however, so recently spoken that it is quite unnecessary to dwell upon them now. The irreparable loss abont to be sustained by the musical world was duly felt on Wednesday night, when, although labouring evidently under the effects of indisposition, Mad. Novello sang the majority of the pieces set down for her in such a manner as to extort unqualified admiration of her artistic refinement, together with an avowal, from all sides, that her voice—at this the moment of her abdicating the throne she has so long gloriously filled—was as clear and penetrating, as vigorous and flexible, as bell-like (" sdver-toned ? ") in quality, and. from gradation to gradation, as unerringly modulated as ever. The tacit acknowledgment of such unfaded powers was naturally accompanied by a proportionate degree of regret that the term of their exercise, for the advantage and delight of those who rejoice in the accents of "the human voice divine,-' was so near approaching its conclusion; and the lost piece allotted to her in the programme, the "Ave Maria." from Mendelssohn's unfinished Loreley, seemed the more appropriate, inasmuch as its quiet, sober, and half-melancholy cast was in keeping with the feeling with which its impressive and delicious strains were now associated. It was only jnst that Clara Novello's "adieu " should be sung to Mendelssohn's music. Nor could anything better fitted to the occasion have been selected than this "Ave Maria"—the "swan's song " of a genius in another sphere. The grand scene from Obertm (her first performance) was chiefly interesting as one of those pieces which Mad. Novello has been, of recent years, most frequently in the habit of introducing, although it was never well suited to her style. Far ditfe

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