THE

MUSICAL WORLD,

A MAGAZINE OF

ESSAYS, CRITICAL AND PRACTICAL,

AND WEEKLY RECORD OF

Musical Science, Literature, and Entelligence.

THERE be a kind of people who, as we are told, can gather sermons from stones-can talk of music with a rumbling stream, and of painting with the lilies of the field-can become moralists in the most ordinary avocations of life, and philosophers on a smaller stock in trade than had Diogenes in his tub. Such people-dull as may seem their propensities, tame their embraces of genius, and icy the discriminative analysis by which they seek to separate the errors from the beauties of enthusiasm-have, nevertheless, their uses ;-even a devotee to the mustiest of glees or the most abstract of canons may stumble on a criticism serviceable to music, and a greater admission in favour of unimaginativeness, we think, could not be made. To these rambling assertions we have only to add that nothing but absolute experience will convince men of the truth of propositions repugnant to their principles of self-esteem, and then quit the announcement of our string of doctrines and come at once to their application. For once, then, we lay aside our artistical affections and declare ourselves the sermonizers at whom we have pointed, and the subject of our lecture is the correspondence we have wilfully provoked concerning a National Opera. We have delayed noticing this voluminous correspondence until now, with the certainty that when it had reached its climax we should have the assistance of most pointed illustrations to back the advice we might think necessary to offer our musical friends on their mode of conducting this important discussion ;-in fact we have laid a trap for the good and ill-judgment of our correspondents-we have given full swing to their expressions of opinion, and now offer them a summary of the result. At the commencement of our articles on this subject we applied the goad to a sore place. We charged our native artists with being, themselves, grievously to blame for the small reputation which, as a class, they

VOL. XIV.-NEW SERIES, VOL. VII.

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enjoyed in their own land. We affirmed that their want of mutual respect, pride of caste, artistical fraternity, or whatever else may be deemed an equivalent for the significant Gallicism, esprit du corps," formed one important branch of the evil, and we recommended a species of socializing as its probable remedy. From the very small response received by our suggestion of a musical conversazione, we infer that our correspondents disbelieved our statements as to the disunity of artists, and consequently thought our hints for its reformation unnecessary. As the best defence of our position, we refer our readers to the letters on the National Opera which have lately occupied so many pages of this journal. We ask any unprejudiced person, do not these letters fairly establish the truth of our charge? We ask, moreover, are not these letters-supposing them to have been written by artists-anything but creditable to their feelings as artists? Do they not display that envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness-that restless jealousy-in fact, that very lack of esprit du corps which we have laid to their charge? So plainly is the man betrayed by his sentiments, that, in the majority of instances, the glaze of secrecy supposed by the anonymous mode of writing is much too thin to conceal the writers, either as to their motives or identities. The whole business, in fact, develops the existence of an extensive selfishness which is flatly opposed to all liberal and beneficial views of art, and, in itself, sufficient to impede, and finally to arrest, any movement that may be attempted in the direction of improvement. Should one of

our correspondents, in a fit of national zeal, make the very justifiable assertion that (except two, or at most, three men) the talent of the reputed composers of Germany is beneath that of the same number of Englishmen, he is sure to be bestrode by some literary incubus who, for sheer contradiction's sake, wilfully and knowingly belies the genius of his countrymen, and degrades them by unfavourable comparison with a nest of Germans who, if their merits be accurately and critically tested, will be found recommended by little save unpronounceable names and, perhaps, a trifle of that anomalous commodity, Philharmonic patronage. Should one of our "National Opera" disputants chance to select a favourite English composer of his own for especial praise, up rises some angry dragon per contra, strips the laurels from the brow of his antagonist's hero, bespatters him with small sneers, and pecks at him with all manner of critical nibblings-clearly showing, meanwhile, that he (disputant No. 2) is, or fancies himself, a composer, and, moreover, wonderfully indignant that disputant No. 1 had not the good taste to prefer him before all his brethren! We ask our readers is, or is not, this the just interpretation of nearly all the argumentative fuss, the parade of artistical criticism, and the mystery of anonymous signatures, which have appeared in our pages on the subject of a National Opera ?

Of all the sufferers from this kind of anonymous pelting, our correspondent "Indicator" has been the greatest;—fortunately for him, he is well able to take care of himself, for he has veritably fallen into the hands of the Philistines. The view taken in his first letter is substantially correct-much mischief has assuredly accrued to our young artists from a diffidence of thinking and speaking critically of the reputed composers of other countries; and had this idea been

steadily worked out, an important lesson would doubtless have been inculcated. Unfortunately, however, the exordium of our correspondent was too long, and he was interrupted by certain fiery argumentalists and very unwisely drawn into personal discussion, before he had time to vouchsafe the application of his principles. To all this, Mr. Thomson, of Edinburgh, appended a long letter which, consisting one-half of strictures on "Indicator," and the remainder of needless refutations of that silliest of all opiners, A Lover of Music," threw no light on the prime object of the discussion. From this point, onwards, the pages of the "Musical World" became a scene of the direst warfare; our correspondents forgot even the cause of all the tumult in their extreme anxiety to abuse one another, and, in utter contempt of the fact that we invited, not a dispute about the supremacy of individual genius, but a struggle for national credit, the names of Barnett, Bennett, Macfarren, Lucas, Mudie, &c. were tossed about with the most helter-skelter disregard of their pretensions and feelings. If from among all this mass of childish petulance and illogical withdrawal of argument from its intended and only useful course, we were to select any specimens of the foulest ill-nature, false taste, and jealousy, our choice would fall on the letter signed "Spectator," in which the writer scoffs and scorns at one or two of the most eminent musicians in this country-simply, as it appears to us, because they have received a just tribute of admiration from "Indicator;" and on that notable specimen of ignorance and conceit signed "Aristides," (an amateur, of course) in which Messrs. Rooke and Barnett are both placed in very undeserved positions, and the Mountain Sylph of the latter, instead of being attacked on its really vulnerable points, is charged with defect of those qualities which it undeniably possesses in the greatest perfection. On the other hand, also, of all our regular correspondents, we can think of but one who has steadily adhered to the text we at first announced, and that is our old but anonymous friend “Patria.”

Our correspondents doubtless think that, in thus taking on us publicly to lecture them, we subject them to most scurvy usage. Doubtless they will complain that we, by first inviting their assistance and then rating them on the score of ill-manners, have brought ourselves to be a very scandal and reproach to the fraternity of editors; we are sorry for it, but shall offer no other apology for our censures than is contained in a reference to the letters themselves. Can any of our correspondents, now that they have had time to take breath and recover temper, read over that mass of literary brawling which has so lately occupied our pages, without a conviction that they ought to be ashamed of themselves? Is not the whole affair disgraceful to a set of artists who, having undertaken to escort a neglected cause along the slippery and dangerous path of improvement, cast their duty to the winds, and suffer their convoy to fall over a precipice, while they stand quarrelling about their individual shares of glory? Would such an egregious lapse of reason have occurred in any other country of Europe? not the musicians of France and Germany, when the interest and honour of their class are assailed, stand forth in their defence AS A BODY? Does not the foreign artist, in his own land, pride himself as much on the school of art to which he

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belongs as on his individual achievements? and does he not resent a slight offered to any one man of his school and country, as an offence against the whole, and, consequently, himself? Up to this point, our correspondents cannot complain of any restrictions of ours on their contemplated latitude of speech ;-in vulgar phrase, we have purposely "given them rope enough,"—and what is the result? We invited our young artists, who felt their degradation as a class, to discuss the mode of founding A NATIONAL OPERA-the invitation was accepted-and, in its product, we find, on referring to our pages of the last three months, that our correspondents, after coming to a general agreement to desert in toto the proposed theme of argument in favour of personalities, jealousies, and absurdities of all kinds, have left the field pretty much in the fashion of curs after a drawn battle-with tails pendant and scowling countenances, mayhap, but, nevertheless, with a sapient resolution to pocket all their scratches, bites, and mutilations, and retire from the contest as decently as might be. So much for discussion by letter! Well might Mr. Barnett express his fears that, if so much virulence were displayed in writing, the first of our proposed meetings of artists would be turned into a Fives' Court!

This manner of discussion-abstractedly vile though it be—has at least served one good purpose. It has proved beyond all dispute that, however much of musical genius this country may possess, our artists-we speak generally— have neither unity of purpose, brotherly affection, nor that lofty devotion to art which would induce them to sacrifice personal jealousies to its general advancement. It has substantiated our charge against them, and we now, with double confidence, repeat that their lack of esprit du corps is their chief stumblingblock. As a remedy for this, we have repeatedly suggested the establishment of a musical conversazione. Such an institution is, we have reason to know, in process of private consideration, and when its preliminaries are definitively settled we will report progress to our readers. In the mean time we wish to afford one more public opportunity to those young artists whose range of acquaintanceship does not chance to extend within the circle to which we allude; and if any such, feeling desirous to forward the establishment of a generally friendly intercourse among native artists, will write to us, and enclose their names and addresses, we will undertake to make their wishes known in the proper quarter.

MUSICAL BIOGRAPHY.-No. IV.

PAULINE GARCIA.

FERDINANDA LAURENCE PAULINE GARCIA was born at Paris on the 18th July, 1821, and is the daughter of Emmanuel Garcia and of Jacquina Sitcher his wife. Christened on the 29th of August of the same year, in the parochial church of St. Roch, she had the celebrated composer Paer for her godfather, and the Princess Prascovic de Galitzin (born Countess de Schouvalon) for her godmother. When only three years old Pauline Garcia left Paris with her family, who, after a stay of two years in London, proceeded to New York, and thence to Mexico. Civil war having, in that unfortunate country, closely followed upon its declaration of independence, and all the parties dividing, it having, as it were, organized, in violence of international law, a system of extortion and robbery against foreigners, Emmanuel Garcia was compelled to remove from the theatre

of so much outrage and devastation. He departed from Mexico in 1829, with his young family and the operatic company of which he was the director. But, on his way across the mountains which separate that city from the sea, the escort itself, which had been given him for his protection, completely stripped him of his property, and left him and his wife, children, and comrades without any resources, and almost naked, in the passes where the crime had been perpetrated. Emmanuel Garcia lost in this dreadful occurrence, every circumstance of which has remained engraven in his daughter's memory, above 24,000l., the hard-earned produce of his travels and exertions. He succeeded, however, in embarking, and his musical passion, paternal love, and the solicitude excited by the education of his children soon consoled him for this heavy calamity.

Pauline Garcia had received at Mexico lessons on the piano from Marcos Vega, the cathedral organist; but the unavoidable interruption that followed them soon made the child forget what she had learned. It was during their passage that her father made her commence her first studies in singing, upon pieces of music en canon, composed expressly for her to words belonging to all languages. We have seen those curious documents-a real musical polygot vocabulary, which, at the same time that it accustomed the child's ear and voice to that ensemble execution that now constitutes one of the brightest features of her talent, familiarised her early with various idioms. At the age of six years, Pauline already spoke French, Spanish, Italian, and English with equal facility. She has since learnt German, which she speaks with at least as much ease.

This early instruction given by Emmanuel Garcia to his children has been the pretext and occasion of a calumny propagated by the wanton ill-will of some, and the spiteful jealousy of others, against the father of Maria and Pauline. It has been alleged that he forced, against nature, their physical and moral development, and the effects of his intelligent perseverance have been denounced to public indignation as the results of a tyranny of every day and every hour, and of a barbarous violence exercised with the obstinacy of a maniac. This is an abominable falsehood, against which we protest in the name of her who is now but a glorious and melancholy souvenir, and in the name of her sister, who preserves with religious veneration the slightest memorial of the affectionate solicitude with which the great artiste surrounded her first years.

Scarcely had she arrived at Paris, in 1829, when young Pauline was entrusted to M. Meysenberg, an able professor, whom an obscure death has since struck, and who gave his pupil excellent rudiments of the piano. Under his guidance Pauline made rapid progress, and acquired both art and science. Indulging her decided taste for that instrument, she devoted three years exclusively to fingering exercises, and after accomplishing that long and arduous task, which would frighten the most tenacious resolution of many a male beginner, she deciphered, as her coup d'essai, Hummel's septuor. It is well known in the musical world that Pauline has become a first-rate pianist, and that Liszt, with whom she has executed Bach's most difficult and complicated compositions, wanted her to be and to remain a pianist. Pauline, whom the fatigue consequent upon her studies, and the danger with which they threatened her health, have determined to give up the piano, now attends to it only that she may not let her fingers stiffen in accompaniment.

It was scarcely more than three years ago that Pauline Garcia began seriously to study vocal music. She had previously only perused and made out all the known and unknown scores. Nevertheless her youthful intelligence in running thus prematurely through the innumerable productions of dramatic composers had had the good fortune and merit of understanding Schubert's melodies, all which she copied with her own hand, at an age when that patient task would be the result only of solitary and spontaneous enthusiasm.

The time having come for imparting to her vocal studies a substantial and durable direction, Pauline Garcia imposed on herself arduous exercises of vocalisation, with a view to equalizing and improving her organ. After going through those composed by her father for Malibran, she wrote some for herself, thus turning to account the principles of composition and harmony which she had derived from Reicha. It is, therefore, erroneous that the young cantatrice has been