ficiently vivid to infuse new ardour into his bow-hand, and new nerve into his finger; in short, to qualify him for the perfect echo of this infernal rhapsody; and what is more, for the publication of it in good legible black notes, which have long survived those he was wont to draw from the said instrument without any mundane rival. By-the-by, one satisfactory proof of the above remarkable circumstance is easily attainable, the violin of Tartini being at this moment in the possession of a celebrated Scotch professor, who very obligingly lends it on occasions to his fiddling pupils; the handling of the neck of the instrument, which is naturally highly saturated with brimstone, most generally proving efficacious when the ordinary sulphuric or other remedial applications have totally failed.

It is not a little surprising, in this age of occult doctrine and experiment, that some of our Czernys, Burgmullers, Huntens, Osbornes, Burroweses, Wades, Linleys, Billy Holmeses, and other musical doers for the present generation, albeit they do not scruple to borrow of their betters, or even to steal from each other, have not cultivated the example of Tartini into a theoretical system, by which to rival their own efforts and eclipse themselves: what an incalculable dead weight might thus have been saved from the counters of our music-sellers— what an obesity of emptiness would thus have been prevented in the portfolios of our maiden aunts and sisters! But the marvel is still greater, that our elders of the craft should have suffered the Tartinian hint to have escaped them, seeing that the Horsleys, Elliotts, Addisons, Dr. Essexes, and Gresham professors, are really shrewd fellows, hard thinkers, and men who do not usually trifle with any means that promise the aggrandisement of their fair fame or lawful profits-the natural supposition is, that the speculative ebullition of these worthies has subsided like the effervescence of soda-water, and that the stagnant element of their genius is not now to be roused by preternatural agency-or, in other words, that their mortal leases being now considerably advanced, they decline to have dealings with the Devil, at least before their appointed time. However, the musical public will be gratified to learn that the notion has been acted upon and turned to the very best account by Mr. F. Romer, in producing the opera which is destined to decide the fate of Mr. Barnett's enterprise at the Prince's Theatre, and establish the claims to a musical propensity in the whole British nation.

This talented and aspiring Tyro, it seems, has been rationally imbued with an ambition to outdo his "" former outdoings,” and accordingly after a course of reading, comprising the roles of Mephistophiles, Asmodeus, Zamiel, Der Vampyr, Robert le Diable, the Diavoletto of the Devil's Opera, and other infernal attempts, together with a few biographical notices of Beelzebub, Lucifer, Satan, and the Serpent, extracted from the erudite works of Jeremy Taylor, Johanna Southcote, and Hutchinson, the coal-heaver-and after having procured a Germane drama to be concocted into English rhyme from the German poem of " Fridolin "—and after causing his pianoforte to be entirely strung with brass, as a safer and better conductor of meteoric influences, and after having insured his life in the Phoenix Fire Office, and his immortal fame in the London Joint Stock Assurance Company, after these and a few other preliminaries and precautions, it is credibly stated that this indomitable musician repaired to a noted house of entertainment (not the Devil Tavern, though close in its locality) the Shakspeare, in Wych-street, and there “ supping full of horrors " upon a plenitude of German sausage and sour krout, abundantly peppered by mine host of witty and literary notoriety; he diluted the same with sundry magnums of Lord Byron's Hippocrene, conventionally called gin and water; then, hidding adieu to all terrestiral ties and associations, he betook him to a studio-dormitory, engaged for the purpose in the basement story of one of the petty Hells in Leicester-square, and reclining his head on six tomes of German and French Dæmonology, with the treasured libretto of Fridolin in his bosom, be soon fell, as might be expected, into that busy sort of rest which Coleridge has aptly denominated "the pains of sleep."

Presently uprises through the the sink-trap of a neighbouring drain, the mach-talked-of, much-dreaded, much-blackened, GREAT UNKNOWN! He seats himself at the brazen-wired pianoforte―HE preludes-HE modulates-HE runs

chromatic scales with super-scientific harmonies and cross-handed evolutions; HE rattles through impossible combinations of passages with fifteen-fingered dexterity; and lo! the sleeper is roused into super-human wide-awakedness; the chamber becomes illuminated, as well it might be, with lurid light blue coruscations of sulphuric vapour, and the BLACK MUSE of Tartini is apparent! Our ambitious composer, spell-bound in person, but not in spirit, prostrates his unsubstantial self before the MAJESTY OF EREBUS, and would have kissed the toe, but that the cloven foot forbade the homage. Rising alacritous, he spread the twenty-four-lined scoring-paper before his wonder-working guest, and invoked assistance in that mute persuasive eloquence, which 'tis said "the Devil can understand, though nobody else can." Three nitrous hems! with a slight expectoration of ignited carbon, ensued-the mighty work proceeded--the overture was rattled off "in one fell swoop!" the effect being considerably heightened by the execution of the corni passages on the gilt horns of the PERFORMER, and the incredibly rapid articulation of a double staccato solo by his sharp-pointed tail; while the caligraphical operation was dispatched, in less than no time, by the simple process of dotting the staves with the ebony tips of his fingers! Judge of the astonishment produced in the laborious brain of our young enthusiast,the treasured libretto was now drawn forth from its "embosomed concealment," it was read at a glance by lightning light, it was set in one peal of thundering thunder; it was written down, as it were, by a momentary shower of black hailstones; the lurid light subsided, the vibrations of the brass wire died away;— the GREAT UNKNOWN, self-absorbed, vanished to his unfathomable, mystic abode; the sleeper's dreaming spirit slunk back into its drowsy encasement, and silence, and slumber, and sulphur, dwelt in the chamber!

But though darkness had possession of the world during the remainder of that memorable night, yet the opera of the Seneschal was composed, and there was a light in store which no opposition could extinguish, and no rivalry shall eclipse! How wisely, then, the directors of the Prince's Theatre have acted in selecting this work as their opening test and palladium, remains to be decided by that world which it is destined to enlighten, as the sonata of Tartini has charmed it through receding ages. We are not to look on this as on the previous productions of Mr. Romer; we are not to expect the innocent simplicity which formed the great attraction of the Pacha's Bridal, tinged as it was occasionally by the hectic of bashful pretension, and chequered now and then with crudities which plainly showed that the composer was in the habit of gulping what he could not digest; no, we are now to feast upon a perfect work-we are to be satisfied by no unexpert simplicity, and of course no maudlin innocence; but we are to banquet on real, solid, substantial fare, cooked up in the most recherché and high-savoured mode; for, as the old playwright says of his comedy," If this be not a good opera, the Devil's in it;" and though the newspaper critics, with their usual blundering acumen, may for once rightly call it infernal stuff, yet we trust, nay we feel persuaded, that the enlightened British public will pronounce it to be a Devilish good thing; and both Mr. Barnett and Mr. Romer will find it as attractive as matters derived from the same source invariably are to the unsophisticated sensibilities of poor human nature.

The gentle readers of the Musical World" are candidly admonished, that their implicit credence is not enlisted for the acceptance of every iota, item, and particular of the above statement; it is but an attempt to give the essential spirit of a matter essentially spiritual, gleaned together from the many tongues of Rumour, and collated with the results of most diligent inquiries, preferred in quarters likely to be authentically informed on the subject; much has been omitted that might perchance have startled the nerves of the gentle reader, and many minute details and characteristic colloquies have been discarded, from a sincere wish to avoid any betrayal of confidence, which might run the risk of being offensive to our fortunate young countryman, or possibly be deemed libellous by his more fiery and less tolerant coadjutor. The subject is a dark one, and is morever" enveloped in thick-coated mystery," a mystery which editorial eyes, even with the assistance of microscopic spectacles, can scarcely be expected to penetrate; nay, if a pilgrimage had been undertaken to the GREAT UNKNOWN

1

himself, if a Printer's Devil had been expressly despatched (pardon the Irishism) down to the very fountain-head, one could hardly have relied on the truth from so questionable a source. We feel persuaded that Mr. Romer's well-known frankness and good-nature will afford any explanations or corrections that may be required; and we fervently hope, when the excitement and occupation consequent upon the getting-up of his opera shall have somewhat subsided, that he will put forth under his own hand and seal, a full, true, and particular account of all circumstances connected with this marvellous affair, for the satisfaction of the curious; together with the scientific formulæ and practical details requisite for obtaining this short cut to musical eminence, both for the benefit of his professional contemporaries, and the advantage of harmonious generations yet unborn.

** We stop the press to récord a most melancholy misfortune:-poor Mapleson, the copyist, having been sorely pressed for the parts of the Seneschal, most imprudently worked upon the same by night as well as day; and precisely at thirty-one minutes past twelve, last Saturday night (or Sunday morning), being engaged with the score of the first finale, either by an accidental spark from the candle, or by spontaneous combustion, the movement exploded with a loud report, blowing the unfortunate operative from the theatre across the river, to his dwelling in the Waterloo-road; it is some consolation to add, that Mr. Mapleson is doing as well as might be expected; and that Mr. F. Romer has, with great promptness and talent, concocted an imitation of the lost movement, a chorus of soldiers in the florid fugal style, which, as an imitation, will of course be received by the public with the kind indulgence due to its merits. We rejoice to learn that Mr. Braidwood and the London Fire Brigade are specially retained, with their respective engines, water-hose, full buckets, &c., during the completion of this most combustible, fulminant, and precious piece of artistical handy work.

CORRESPONDENCE.

To the Editor of the Musical World.

SIR,-The affair at Hull, considered in a moral point of view, and as an index to the politico-religious state of society as at present constituted, is really one of the most mournful events that any man, with a spark of philanthropy in him, can contemplate. The spirit of persecution has certainly progressed. In the piping days of popery, men burnt one another at the stake, and had some show of reason for it; it awed the apostles of the new heresy, and prevented the spread of its fatal contagion. Besides, these burners held a man who disagreed with them to be eternally damned; and, of course, concluded that, hang, burn, or drown, it mattered little what became of him. But, at any rate, the awarding and infliction of punishment was the affair solely of ecclesiastical jurisdiction, and might sometimes be palliated by mistaken motives and fanatical zeal. Laymen, awestruck, looked sadly on and blessed themselves, but seldom added one faggot to the pile. We, however, of the nineteenth century, each possessing or claiming the right of individual judgment on the most abstruse and important matters, have altered these things. We cannot burn and slay bodily, but we carry on our zealous attack against the integrity of a man's pocket-we undermine him. If some among us, with a warmer heart and more generous hand than the rest, but with whose opinions our own may not happen precisely to coincide, come forward, and, in a truceful spirit, propose that we join them and give to the poor, our pride is alarmed, our independence endangered, our creed questioned; we raise the standard of our sect, we pamphletise, anathematise, distort motives, disdain overtures, draw tight our purse-strings, and triumph: sickening poverty moans loud, but her complaint is unheard amid the din of victory. And mark how gratifying that victory! The battle has been an individual warfare-man to man— Jenkins to Tomkins-and the defeat and conquest are individual. With what exultation does Jenkins see neighbour Tomkins unburthen his pocket of the heavy deficiency which the subscriptions of Jenkins and his "connection" might materially have alleviated. The principle of "every man his own avenger "is amply illustrated throughout, and a noble and christian principle it is.

What you say about Exeter- hall and its directors, and the Sacred Harmonic Society, makes one wonder what saintly recommendation the society could have had, with no funds and scanty numbers, to open the spotless portals of Exeter-hall in the first instance. What could it have been, under such circumstances, that gave them footing in this reve

rend pile? Music may "have charms to soothe the savage breast," but it certainly falls pointless against the triply-armed in cant. Possibly the odour of the dissenting chapel in Lincoln's Inn-fields, once the resting-place-or hiding-place, rather-of the society, savoured gratefully in the nostrils of the priests of this modern temple of humbug--the directors; or, it may be, that these gentlemen gave not sanctuary to the harmonious brotherhood without something more tangible-something in the shape of a binding agreement to ensure the rent, for instance- than the good character they brought with them.

It was not to be expected that the society could touch pitch and be undefiled. The directors of the hall very soon found occasion to inoculate them with the virus of their own humbug. The directors were horrified at the idea of applauding a piece of sacred music, and the society, in the spirit of accommodation, became horrified too; so, a respectable-looking individual used, at the early concerts of the society, to get up in the orchestra, just before the commencement of the performance, and remind the audience, in language not remarkable either for perspicuity or grammatical propriety, that what they were about to hear was in the nature of a religious service, and, on that account, ought to be received in profound silence. This would have been all very well, if the audience had not invariably, at the conclusion of the address, been seized with such an enthusiastic fit of applauding the speaker, that the means defeated their own end. At last, the Sacred Harmonic Society and their orator were fairly laughed out of this dainty piece of humbug, and the directors are fain to put up with the applauding thunderings of profane thousands, which, doubtless, they are enabled to do with considerable philosophy, while their noisy tenants are so desirable in other and more important respects.

As for the directors objecting to the performance of profane music in their room, the fact is plain enough, that, though they may be all very religious men-as they think—it never formed part of their deliberations whether religious considerations should give place to those of a pecuniary nature. They cannot, say they, serve cant and Mammon, but they and their room are to be disposed of to the highest bidder of the two. The unlucky treaty with Musard, in which they encountered all the odium consequent on offering their hall for profane performances, and the mortification of his refusal, abundantly proved this, if there could have been a doubt about it; so we need not be at all uneasy about finding a gathering-place for such performances. The Sacred Harmonic Society is, however, prevented, by its constitution, its rules, and its very title, from embarking in such an undertaking. But the materials composing that society are at the service of anybody who has spirit and sagacity enough to use and direct them. Can we not, then, compose another metropolitan musical society? Pray agitate this matter a little, sir, and rest assured of the support and gratitude of all lovers of music, one of whom subscribes himself your admirer, and very obedient servant, -S.

To the Editor of the Musical World.

SIR, Observing, in your Journal of last Thursday, a paragraph under the head of the "Eastern Institution," in which you very complimentally make use of my name as the presumed ENTREPRENEUR of the winter concerts to be given by the directors, I beg to acquaint you that I have not had the honour of receiving any communication whatever on the subject from the committee of this highly-praiseworthy institution.-I am, sir, your obliged and obedient servant, CHARLES OLLIVIER.

41, New Bond-street, Nov. 10, 1840. [Our authority for announcing Mr. Ollivier as the manager of the series of concerts about to be undertaken by the committee of the Eastern Institution, was the scheme that he himself left in the hands of Mr. Gearing the secretary.ED. M. W.]

To the Editor of the Musical World.

SIR, I beg leave to remark that the notice you have been pleased to insert in your last number of my literary designs contains an error, which I request you to rectify. The System of Harmony (not "Treatise of Harmony") which I intend to publish within a short time, and of which Lord Burghersh has condescended to accept the dedication, will by no means extend to four volumes, but form one very moderate volume, accessible, from its price, to every student. Though complete in itself, this work may certainly be considered not as the "epitome," but as the precursor of a general Theory of Music on a larger scale, historical, mathematical, and æsthetical. This book, which can only be the fruit of ripening years, may, if I do at all succeed in finishing it, undoubtedly occupy four volumes, or even more.-I have the honour, sir, to be your obedient servant,

42, Somerset-street, Portman-square, Nov. 9, 1840.

A. J. BECHER.