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 MUSICAL HISTORY, 
 BIOGRAPHY, AND CRITICISM. 
 
 GEORGE HOGARTH. 
 
 VOLUME II. 
 
 LONDON : 
 JOHN W. PARKER, WEST STRAND. 
 
 M.DCCaXXXVUI.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 Chapteh XIII. Music in Germany during the Eigh- 
 teenth Century, continued. — Mozart. — Pleyel . 1 
 
 Chapter XIV. The Music of the Reformed Church. 
 
 — Metrical Psalmody 37 
 
 Chapter XV. Composers of English Sacred Music 
 since the time of Purcell. — Clarke. — Aldrich. — 
 Croft. — Weldon. — Greene. — Travers. — Boyce. — 
 Nares. — Kent. — Battishill. — Arnold. — "Wesley. — 
 Crotch. — Attwood. — Horsley. — Adams. — English 
 Cathedral Music 58 
 
 Chapter XVI. Composers for the English Stage 
 during the Eighteenth Century. — Pepusch. — Gal- 
 liard. — Carey. — Lampe. — Dr. Arne. — Michael 
 Ame. — Linley. — Jackson. — Arnold. — Dibdin. — 
 Shield.— Storace 91 
 
 Chapter XVII. Music in Germany in the present 
 Century. — Winter. — Himmel. — Weigh — Andreas 
 and Bernard Romberg.— Fesca. — Beethoven . 120 
 
 Chapter XVIII. Music in Germany in the present 
 
 Century, continued. — Weber . . . .156 
 
 Chapter XIX. Living German Musicians. — Spohr. 
 — Hummel. — Ries. — Moscheles. — Neukomm. — 
 Mayerbeer. — Mendelssohn. — Sclmeider. — The 
 
 modern German School 187 
 
 a 2
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Chapter XX. Music in Italy during the present 
 Century. — Zingarelli. — Mayer. — Paer. — Spontini. 
 — Fioravanti. — Mosca. — Rossini. — Present Italian 
 School 197 
 
 Chapter XXI. Music in France during the Last and 
 Present Centuries. — Rameau. — Gretry. — Gluck. — 
 Piccini. — Cherubini. — Present State of Music in 
 France 220 
 
 Chapter XXII. The English Glee.— Principal Glee 
 Composers. — English Dramatic Music during the 
 Present Century ..... . 231 
 
 Chapter XXIII. Present state of Music in England. \ 
 — The Piano-forte. — Cleraenti. — Cramer. — The Or- 
 gan. — Composition of Instrumental Music. — The 
 Violin. — Vocal Performers. — Institutions. — An- 
 cient Concert. — Philharmonic Society. — Vocal So- 
 ciety. — Society of British Musicians. — Musical 
 Publications. — Conclusion ..... 260 
 
 Appendix ........ 279
 
 MUSICAL HISTORY. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MUSIC IN GERMANY DURING THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY, 
 CONTINUED. — MOZART. — PLEYEL. 
 
 JoHANN Chrysostom Wolfgang Gottlieb Mozart* 
 was born at Salzburg on tbe 27th of January, 1756. 
 His father, Leopold Mozart, was a musician of some 
 eminence, and, as well as his wife, Anna Maria Pertl, 
 was remarkable for personal beauty. They had seven 
 children, of whom only two survived, a girl named 
 Mary Anne, and the subject of the present sketch. 
 
 "When young Mozart was about three years of age, 
 his father began to give his sister, then about seven, 
 lessons on the harpsichord, by which the boy's attention 
 was immediately attracted. His great amusement was 
 to endeavour to find out thirds on the instrument, and 
 nothing could exceed his delight when he discovered 
 them. At the age of four, he had learned to play 
 several minuets, and other little pieces ; and before he 
 had attained his fifth year, he had made attempts at 
 composition. At this period he gave signs of a very 
 
 • He is frequently called Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. A madeus 
 is equivalent to Gottlieb. 
 
 VOL. II. B
 
 1! MOZART. 
 
 affectionate and sensitive disposition. He would fre- 
 quently ask the persons about tim if they loved him, 
 and an answer in the negative, made in joke, affected 
 him to tears. When he became engrossed by his pas- 
 sion for music, he lost his relish for the usual gambols 
 of children, of which he had been very fond, and cared 
 nothing for any amusement of which music did not 
 form a part. A friend of the family used to amuse 
 himself by playing with the child : they carried play- 
 things in procession from one room to another, marching 
 to a tune, which one of them sang or played on the 
 violin. For a time, Mozart attached himself with 
 great avidity to the ordinary studies of youth, and even 
 sacrificed to them his love for music. While he was 
 learning arithmetic, the tables, chairs, walls, and floors, 
 were scribbled over with figures. Music, however, 
 soon became again his favourite pursuit. His father, 
 returning home one day with a friend, found him 
 earnestly engaged in writing, and asked him what he 
 was about. " I am composing a concerto for the harp- 
 sichord," said the child, " and have finished the first 
 part." His father took the paper, and looked at it 
 along with his friend. Seeing nothing but a childish- 
 looking scrawl, almost illegible, and covered with blots 
 of ink, they began to laugh; but the father, continuing 
 to examine it, became filled with astonishment and 
 pleasure. " Look," he cried to his friend, " how cor- 
 rect and regular it is ! but it is too difficult ; nobody 
 could play it." "It is a concerto," said the young 
 composer, " and must be studied before it can be 
 played : see, this is the way it goes." He then began 
 to play, but could only make a shift to give an idea of
 
 MOZART. d 
 
 his meaning. The composition consisted of a multitude 
 of notes, placed precisely according to rule, but pre- 
 senting such difficulties that no perfonner could have 
 ever been able to execute them. 
 
 In the year 1762, w^hen Mozart was six years of age, 
 his father carried his family to Vienna, v^here the two 
 children performed before Francis the First and the 
 Imperial court. Wagenseil, an eminent musician, was 
 then in Vienna ; and Mozart, who already knew how 
 to value the approbation of a good master, begged that 
 he might be present. The emperor sent for Wagen- 
 seil, and gave up to him his place beside the harpsi- 
 chord. " Sir," said the young performer, " I am going 
 to play one of your concertos ; and you will turn the 
 leaves for me." 
 
 When the family returned to Salzburg, Mozart 
 brought with him a small violin, with which he amused 
 himself. An able violin player, of the name of Wenzl, 
 called one day on his father, to ask his opinion of six 
 trios he had just composed. They proceeded to try 
 them, Wenzl himself playing the first violin, Mozart's 
 father the bass, and a performer of the name of 
 Schachner the second violin. Young Mozart begged 
 hard to be allowed to play this last part, but his father 
 angrily refused his request, naturally conceiving it to 
 be a childish whim. At last, however, on the good- 
 humoured intercession of Schachner, the child was 
 allowed to play along with him on his little violin, 
 and cautioned by his father to make little noise. In a 
 few minutes Schachner, nodding to his companions, 
 quietly laid down his instrument, and Mozart went on 
 alone, playing his part with the utmost acciu-acy and 
 
 B 2
 
 4 MOZART. 
 
 steadiness, to the admiration and astonishment of the 
 party. 
 
 The delicacy of his ear was wonderful. He could 
 distinguish the slightest difference in the pitch of sound; 
 and every false or harsh tone, not softened by some 
 concord, gave him exquisite pain. He had an invin- 
 cible horror at the sound of a trumpet, when not 
 played in concert with other instruments. His father 
 imagined he might cure this dislike by sounding a 
 trumpet in his presence, and tried the experiment, 
 notwithstanding the child's intreaties ; but at the first 
 blast he became pale, and fell on the floor. He was 
 fond of playing on Schachner's violin, on account of 
 the sweetness of its tone, and Schachner used to tune 
 it, and leave it with him. One day, when Schachner 
 came to visit his father, Mozart remarked to him, that 
 the last time he had tuned his violin, he had not kept 
 it at its former pitch. " It is half a quarter of a tone," 
 he said, " lower than this one of mine." They at first 
 laughed at this extreme exactness ; but the father, who 
 had often observed the extraordinary delicacy of his 
 son's ear, and his memory for sounds, desired him to 
 bring Schachner's violin, and it actually proved to be 
 half a quarter of a tone below the other. 
 
 Though this wonderful child could not fail to per- 
 ceive the admiration and astonishment which his talents 
 excited, he did not become vain or forward. He was 
 always docile and gentle, and never appeared out of 
 humour with the commands of his parents ; even when 
 he had practised music the whole day, he would con- 
 tinue to play, without the slightest impatience, if his 
 father desired him to do so.
 
 MOZART. 
 
 In July, 1763, when Mozart was in his seventh year, 
 the family set out on an extensive journey. After 
 visiting the different German courts, they arrived at 
 Paris, where they remained for several months. The 
 public performances of the children were received with 
 enthusiasm, and Mozart played the organ in the 
 Royal Chapel at Versailles before the court. It was 
 at Paris that he composed and published his first two 
 sonatas. In April, 1764, the family went to London, 
 where they remained for more than a year. The chil- 
 dren were received with the same applause as at Paris, 
 both by the court and the public. Some of the most 
 difficult pieces of Sebastian Bach, Handel, and other 
 masters, were placed before Mozart, who perfomed 
 them at sight with the greatest accuracy. On one occa- 
 sion, in presence of the king, he played a very melo- 
 dious and beautiful piece from a bass that was put 
 before him. On another occasion, John Christian 
 Bach, music-master to the queen, took the boy on his 
 knees, and played a few bars ; Mozart continued, and 
 thus they went on, alternately, through an entire 
 sonata, with such unity of effect, that those who did 
 not see them thought that one person only was 
 playing. 
 
 During Mozart's stay in England he was particularly 
 noticed by the Honourable Daines Barrington, who has 
 recorded several remarkable traits of his precocity. In 
 one of his visits to the young musician, Mr. Barrington 
 brought with him a manuscript duet, the words of 
 which were from Metastasio's opera of Demofoonte. 
 The score, beside the two voice parts, (which were in 
 the counter-tenor clef,) contained accompaniments for
 
 6 
 
 MOZAKT. 
 
 two violins and a bass. This score was no sooner placed 
 before Mozart than he began to play the symphony in a 
 masterly manner, and in the precise time intended by 
 the composer. He then began to sing the upper voice 
 part, leaving the other to his father. His voice was 
 thin and infantine, but his style and expression were 
 admirable. The father having made one or two mis- 
 takes, was instantly reproved and set right by his son. 
 While he was thus singing his own part and attending 
 to his father's, he was also playing the accompaniment 
 from the instrumental score. When he had finished 
 the piece, he appeared delighted with it, and asked Mr. 
 Barrington if he had brought any more such music. 
 Mr. Barrington then requested him to sing an extem- 
 pore love-song, after the manner of Manzoli, the cele- 
 brated singer, who was then in England, and by whom 
 the boy had been much caressed. He complied in- 
 stantly, and, looking back archly, began a recitative 
 proper for such a song. He played the symphony, and 
 aang an air, on the single word affetto, which had a 
 first and second part, and was of the ordinary length 
 of an opera song. Mr. Barrington then asked him to 
 give a song of rage^ in the style of the serious opera. 
 He immediately began a proper recitative, and, after a 
 symphony, sang an air on the word per/ido. Before he 
 got through it, his imagination became so excited, that, 
 in place of playing, he beat the harpsichord, and some- 
 times started from his chair in the tempest of rage he 
 was describing. After this he played a little sonata that 
 he had composed the day before, in which his execution 
 was wonderful, considering that his little fingers could 
 scarcely reach a sixth on the instrument. He appeared
 
 MOZART. 7 
 
 to have a thorough knowledge of the fundamental rules 
 of composition, as, on Mr. Barrington giving him a 
 melody, he immediately wrote an excellent bass to it. 
 He showed, too, great skill in extemporaneous modula- 
 tion, making smooth and effective transitions from one 
 key to another ; and he executed these musical difficul- 
 ties, for a considerable time, with a handkerchief over 
 the keys. With aU these displays of genius, however, 
 which were such as to make Mr. Barrington doubtful as 
 to his age, his general deportment was that of a child. 
 While he was playing to Mr. Barrington one day, his 
 favourite cat came in, on which he immediately left the 
 harpsichord to play with it, and could not be brought 
 back for some time. He had hardly resumed his per- 
 formance when he suddenly started off again, and began 
 running about the room with a stick between his legs 
 for a horse. 
 
 During his residence in England, he composed six 
 sonatas, which were dedicated to the queen, and pub- 
 lished in London. These pieces are preserved among 
 his works; and, though exceedingly simple in con- 
 struction, they show that " the child was father to the 
 man," as they contain innumerable traits of the same 
 kind of melody and expression which distinguish the 
 productions of his riper years. 
 
 After an absence of more than three years, the 
 family returned to Salzburg, in November, 1766 ; and 
 Mozart, living tranquilly at home, devoted himself 
 with ardour to the study of composition. Emanuel 
 Bach, Hasse, and Handel, were his principal guides, 
 though he by no means neglected the study of the old 
 Italian masters.
 
 8 MOZART. 
 
 In 1768 Mozart performed at Vienna before the em- 
 peror Joseph the Second, who ordered him to compose 
 the music of a comic opera, the Finta Semplice. It 
 was approved by Hasse and by Metastasio, but its 
 performance was prevented by a cabal among the 
 singers. At the consecration of the new church of 
 the Orphans, he composed the music of the service, 
 and conducted the performance of it in the presence of 
 the Imperial court, though then but a child of twelve 
 years old. 
 
 He returned to pass the year 1 769 at Salzburg. In 
 the end of that year his father took him to Italy, where 
 he was received with the enthusiasm which might be 
 expected from a people so much alive to excellence in 
 the fine arts. At Milan he received a commission to 
 compose the opera for the carnival of the following 
 year. At Bologna he found a warm admirer in the 
 celebrated Padre Martini, who was delighted to see a 
 boy of thirteen develop all the subjects of fugue which 
 he himself proposed, and play them with the utmost 
 readiness and precision. At Florence he became ac- 
 quainted with Thomas Linley, the son of the celebrated 
 composer of The Duenna^ and himself afterwards a very 
 distinguished musician. Linley was then a boy of about 
 Mozart's age, and a pupil of Martini. Their friendship 
 became so warm, that when Mozart left Florence, they 
 parted with mutual tears. 
 
 When he arrived at Rome, Ganganelli, who then 
 filled the pontifical chair, invited him to the Quirinal 
 palace, where he had the honour of performing privately 
 before his holiness. This was just before Easter. In 
 the course of the conversation, the approaching per-
 
 MOZART. 9 
 
 formances in the Sistine chapel were spoken of, parti- 
 cularly the famous Miserere of AUegri. Mozart, with 
 the naivete of his age, requested a copy from the pope, 
 which he declined giving, explaining, in kind terms, 
 that compliance was out of his power, because the piece 
 was forbidden to be copied under pain of excommuni- 
 cation. The young musician, however, obtained per- 
 mission to attend the single rehearsal which preceded 
 the public performance. He listened with the most 
 earnest attention ; and, on quitting the chapel, hastened 
 home and wrote down the notes. At the public per- 
 formance he had the manuscript concealed in his hat ; 
 and having filled up some omissions, and corrected 
 some errors in the inner parts, he had the satisfaction 
 to know that he possessed the treasure so jealously 
 watched. The next time he was invited to play before 
 the pope, he ventured to mention what he had done, 
 and produced the manuscript. The pope listened with 
 amazement, but said with a smile, " The jirohibition 
 cannot extend to the memory, and I think you may 
 escape the penalty of excommunication." This com- 
 position, afterwards published from a copy sent as a 
 present from Pope Pius the Sixth to the emperor of 
 Germany, was compared with the manuscript of Mozart, 
 and it was found that there was not the difference of a 
 single note. 
 
 From Rome, Mozart went to Naples, where he played 
 in public in so astonishing a manner, that the audience 
 took it into their heads that there was some charm in a 
 brilliant ring which he wore ; and he was absolutely 
 obliged to take it off' in order to convince them that it 
 had no share in the wonders he was performing. He
 
 10 MOZART. 
 
 now returned to Milan, in order to fulfil his engagement 
 of producing an opera in the carnival; and, in travelling 
 by the way of Rome and Bologna, he was made, by 
 the pope, a Knight of the Golden Spur, and elected a 
 member of the Philharmonic Society of the latter city, 
 the highest distinction that a musician can receive in 
 Italy. 
 
 In December, 1770, his opera of Mithridate was 
 brought out at Milan, and performed for twenty nights. 
 In consequence of this success, the manager entered into 
 an engagement with him for the composition of the first 
 opera for the year 1773. The opera Lticio Silla was 
 equally successful with Mithridate^ having been per- 
 formed twenty-six times successively. In the interme- 
 diate period between the production of these two pieces, 
 he composed in 1771? Ascanio in Alba^ at Milan, and II 
 Sogno di Scipione, in 1772, at Salzburg. 
 
 Dr. Bumey, who spent this year, 1772, in Germany, 
 thus writes of Mozart, in his account of his tour :*— > 
 "The Mozart family were all at Salzburg last Summer. 
 The father has long been in the service of that court, 
 and the son is now one of the band. He composed an 
 opera at Milan for the marriage of the archduke with 
 the princess of Modena, and was to compose another at 
 the same place for the carnival of this year, though 
 he is now but sixteen years of age. By a letter from 
 Salzburg, dated last November, I am informed that this 
 young man, who so much astonished all Europe by his 
 premature knowledge and performance during infancy, 
 is still a great master of his instrument. My corres- 
 pondent went to his father s house, to hear him and his 
 • State of Music in Germany , vol. ii.
 
 MOZART. 11 
 
 sister play dnets on the same harpsichord ; but she is 
 now at her summit, which is not marvellous; 'and,* 
 says the writer of the letter, ' if I may judge of the 
 music which I heard of his composition in the orchestra, 
 he is one further instance of early fruit being more extra- 
 ordinary than excellent !' " This remark, now absolutely 
 ludicrous, was foolish even at the time it was made ; 
 and Dr. Bumey, who was just returned from the scenes 
 of Mozart's triumphs, ought to have known better than 
 to adopt it. 
 
 During excursions which he made to Vienna and 
 Munich in 1773, Mozart produced several compositions 
 which were highly esteemed, among which were the 
 opera of La Finta Giardiniera, and several masses for 
 the chapel of the elector of Bavaria. In 1775, on the 
 occasion of the Archduke Maximilian spending a short 
 time at Salzburg, Mozart composed the cantata, II Me 
 Pastore. 
 
 Mozart's reputation had now spread throughout 
 Europe, and he was desirous to establish himself in 
 some place where he could gain an independence by 
 his talents. His father suggested Paris ; and he set out 
 for that city, accompanied by his mother only, in the 
 year 1777. In his way towards Paris he remained for 
 some time at Munich, in hopes of obtaining there some 
 permanent employment worthy of him. He received 
 much admiration, and many compliments from the noble 
 patrons of music in that city; but when he pressed them 
 on the subject of his affairs, he met with nothing but 
 shujBfling and evasion. At one time he was told that 
 there was no place vacant ; at another, that he was too 
 young, and ought to go to Italy, — ^a remark which he 
 was well entitled to feel as an insult, considering the
 
 12 MOZART. 
 
 length of his previous residence in that country, the 
 works he had composed while there, the manner of their 
 reception, and the honours that were everywhere paid 
 him. At Augsburg, Manheim, and other places through 
 which he passed, he gained some money by performing 
 in public and private. In a letter to his father, written 
 from Augsburg, he says, " My best regards to my dear 
 father, and many thanks for his remembrance of me on 
 my birthday. Let him feel no uneasiness on my 
 account. I never lose sight of my God. I acknowledge 
 his power and fear his anger ; but, at the same time, 
 love to admire his goodness and mercy towards his 
 creatures. He will never abandon his servant ; by the 
 fulfilment of his will, my desires are satisfied; so I can 
 want nothing, and ought to live happily. I shall always 
 make it my duty to follow pvmctually the commands 
 and counsels which you may have the goodness to give 
 me." In the Spring of 1 778, he arrived in Paris, where 
 he laboured hard to recommend himself, by his compo- 
 sitions and performances, to the favour of the aristocracy 
 and the public. But he was treated with contumelious 
 neglect by the great, and every efibrt was made by jealous 
 rivals to prevent or mar the performance of his music. 
 He was disgusted, too, with the wretched taste which 
 then prevailed in the French capital. " You write me," 
 he says to his father, " to pay many visits, in order to 
 make new acquaintances and renew the old; but this is 
 not possible beyond a certain point. The distances are 
 too great, and the streets too dirty for walking ; and in 
 a coach one has the pleasure of spending an enormous 
 sum in a single day, which is pure loss, for here the 
 people pay you a great many compliments, but nothing 
 else. They request me to visit them on such a day ; I
 
 MOZART. 13 
 
 play. They exclaim, O^heis a prodigy ! inconceivable ! 
 amazing ! — then 'Adieu,' and that is all. I have already 
 spent a great deal of money in coaches, and very often 
 for not meeting people. Paris is much changed. The 
 French are not nearly so polite as they were fifteen years 
 ago ; at present they verge very nearly on grossness." 
 He afterwards says, " If there were in this place any one 
 possessed of ears to hear, a heart to feel, and the slightest 
 idea of music, I should console myself for all these 
 vexations. But I am among brute-beasts as regards 
 music. I am here, however, and must submit. God 
 grant that I may come out with a pure and healthy 
 taste ! I pray every day to the Eternal to grant me 
 courage, that I may do honour to myself and to Ger- 
 many, — that I may earn money, and be enabled to relieve 
 you from your present distressed state. When shall 
 we meet again, and live happily together?" "Weary of 
 this painful and unprofitable life, Mozart left Paris in 
 1779, and returned to Salzburg. 
 
 In the following year he repaired to Vienna; and soon 
 afterwards composed his opera of Idomeneo. He had 
 become passionately attached to Mademoiselle Constance 
 Weber, a celebrated actress ; but her parents were 
 opposed to their union, on account of the young man's 
 unsettled situation in life. He was desirous to show 
 her family, by this work, that he possessed, in his own 
 talents, the means of honourable independence ; and, 
 stimulated at once by love and ambition, he produced a 
 piece which he always ranked among the best of his 
 works. 
 
 During the remainder of his life, Mozart remained 
 at Vienna, attached to the service of the emperor.
 
 14 MOZART. 
 
 Though he was by no means liberally treated, he refused 
 many more advantageous offers made him by different 
 sovereigns, and particularly by the king of Prussia. In 
 one of his visits to Berlin, that monarch offered him 
 three thousand crowns a year if he would engage to 
 superintend his orchestra. But he declined the offer, 
 saying, " Ought I to leave my good emperor ? " When 
 one of his friends reproached him for his imprudence 
 in rejecting so good an offer, he replied, " I like to live 
 at Vienna, the emperor is kind to me, and I don't 
 value money." Some vexation he met with at court, 
 however, once induced him to beg his dismission ; but a 
 word from the emperor made him give up his design. 
 He was not worldly enough to take advantage of this 
 favourable opportunity of demanding a settled salary ; 
 but this was afterwards fixed by the emperor himself at 
 the incredibly small sum of eight hundred florins, about 
 eighty pounds sterling ; and this paltry allowance was 
 never augmented. 
 
 The opera of Die Entfuhrung aus dem Serail (The 
 Escape from the Seraglio) was brought out in 1782. 
 At one of the rehearsals, the emperor said to the com- 
 poser, " My dear Mozart, this is too fine for our ears ; 
 there are too many notes." — " I beg your majesty's 
 pardon," said Mozart ; " there are just as many as there 
 should be." The emperor said nothing ; but applauded 
 the piece warmly when it came to be performed. The 
 emperor, however, was not entirely in the wrong. 
 Mozart himself afterwards said, after playing over one 
 of the airs which had been most applauded, " This is 
 very well for a room, but too verbose for the theatre. 
 When I composed this opera I took delight in what I
 
 MOZART. 15 
 
 was doing, and never thought anything too long." He 
 made many corrections and retrenchments on the piece ; 
 but even in its present shape, notwithstanding its 
 many and great beauties, the airs are more lengthened 
 and fuller of passages of display, than those of his later 
 operas. 
 
 Le Nozze di Figaro and Don Giovanni were composed 
 in 1787, and were performed at Prague with the most 
 brilliant success. Neither of these operas, however, was 
 at first very favourably received at Vienna. Le Nozze di 
 Figaro was wilfully spoiled by the singers, at the insti- 
 gation, it is said, of rival composers ; and the Viennese 
 public, at that time, were incapable of appreciating a 
 work so novel in its style as Don Giovanni. Its merits 
 were one day discussed in a large party, at which most 
 of the connoisseurs of the place were present, and 
 Haydn among the rest. They all agreed in speakinor of 
 it in terms of high general praise, but everybody had 
 some fault to find with it. Haydn remained silent 
 till he was called upon for his opinion. "I cannot 
 give a judgment, gentlemen, upon all these objections 
 you have started," said he ; " all I know is, that Mozart 
 is certainly the greatest composer living." The critics 
 looked foolish, and ventured upon no further remarks. 
 Mozart always spoke in a similar manner of Haydn. 
 A composer who stood high enough to have some title 
 to be envious of Haydn, used to tease Mozart by 
 pointing out to him, with great satisfaction, any little 
 negligences or errors he had discovered in Haydn's new 
 compositions. Mozart bore this for a while, and always 
 endeavoured to get rid of the subject ; but at last, his 
 patience becoming exhausted, he said very abruptly, "Sir,
 
 16 MOZART. 
 
 if you and I were melted down together, we should not 
 furnish materials for one Haydn." Mozart inscribed 
 his first book of quartets to Haydn, in a brief dedication, 
 remarkable for its simple elegance of expression. 
 
 During the last years of Mozart's life, his health, 
 which had always been delicate, rapidly declined. He 
 became morbidly apprehensive of death, and of the 
 unprotected state in which he should leave his family, 
 whom he tenderly loved. Under the influence of such 
 feelings, he used to labour with such unremitting industry, 
 that, in the midst of his exertions, his strength failed him, 
 and he was sometimes carried fainting to bed. It was 
 evident that he was destroying himself by this immode- 
 rate application. His wife and his friends endeavoured 
 to divert his mind and withdraw him from his painful 
 thoughts by getting him to join them in visits and 
 little excursions : but he remained absent, abstracted, 
 and sunk in melancholy reflection ; and he only re- 
 covered his energy when he returned to his labours, 
 and became absorbed in his grand and beautiful con- 
 ceptions. Sometimes, too, he endeavoured to get rid 
 of his painful thoughts of the future, by a reckless 
 enjoyment of the passing hour. But he was never of 
 dissolute habits ; and his thoughtless extravagance, the 
 occasional rebound of an elastic spirit from its state of 
 diseased and almost insane depression, is more to be 
 regretted than made a matter of reproach. 
 
 His exemplary wife, ever indefatigable in her anxiety 
 for his health and comfort, used to get the friends 
 whose society he most enjoyed, to pretend to surprise 
 him at times when, after many hours' application, he 
 ought to have been at rest : but though their visits
 
 MOZART. 
 
 17 
 
 pleased him, he did not lay aside his pen ; they gene- 
 rally failed in their attempts to engage him in conver- 
 sation, and he soon went on with his writing, apparently 
 unaware of their presence. 
 
 In this melancholy state of mind he composed 
 the operas of the Zauherjldte (Magic Flute) and the 
 Clemenza di Tito, and also the Requiem, or Mass for the 
 Dead. It was while writing the first of these operas 
 that he was seized with fainting fits. The Zauherjiote 
 met with an enthusiastic reception from the public ; but 
 the state of the composer's health did not allow him to 
 conduct the orchestra for more than nine or ten repre- 
 sentations. When he was no longer able to go to the 
 theatre, he used to lay his watch by his side and follow, 
 in imagination, the progress of the performance. " Now," 
 he would say, "the first act is over, — now they are 
 singing such an air ;'' and then, the recollection that it 
 w^as the decay of his own strength that compelled him 
 to sit inactive at home, would bring back all his gloomy 
 anticipations of approaching dissolution. 
 
 The celebrated Requiem was the last of his works. 
 One day, it is said, he received a visit from a stranger, 
 apparently of some consideration, who said that a per- 
 son of rank, who had lost a dear relative, was desirous 
 of commemorating that event by the performance of a 
 solemn service, for which he requested Mozart to com- 
 pose a Requiem. Mozart engaged to execute the work 
 in a month; and, on the stranger desiring to know the 
 price he set upon it, mentioned a hundred ducats, 
 which the visiter laid upon the table, and disappeared. 
 Mozart remained lost in thought for some time ; he 
 then suddenly called for pen, ink, and paper, and in 
 
 VOL. II. c
 
 18 MOZART. 
 
 spite of his wife's entreaties, began to write. For 
 several days he wrote day and night with unabated 
 ardour; but his feeble constitution was unable to sup- 
 port such eflForts. One morning he fell down senseless^ 
 and was obliged to suspend his labour. Some days 
 after, when his wife was endeavouring to divert him 
 from his gloomy forebodings, he said to her, " I am 
 certain that I am writing this Requiem for myself, — it 
 will be my funeral service •" and it was impossible to 
 remove this impression from his mind. As he went on, 
 he felt his strength diminish from day to day, and the 
 score advanced slowly. At the month's end, the 
 stranger again appeared, and asked for the Requiem. 
 Mozart said he had found himself unable to keep his 
 word, and requested another month ; adding that the 
 work had interested him more than he had expected, 
 and that he had extended it beyond his original design. 
 " In that case," said the stranger, " it is but just to 
 increase the remuneration ; here are fifty ducats more." 
 Mozart, in astonishment, begged to know who he was; 
 but this information he declined to communicate, but 
 said he should return in a month. Mozart called one 
 of his servants, and ordered him to foUow this extraor- 
 dinary personage, and endeavour to find out who he 
 was; but the servant returned without being able to 
 trace him. Poor Mozart, in a state of mind at once 
 enfeebled and excited, imagined that the stranger was 
 some supernatural being, sent to warn him of his ap- 
 proaching end, and applied himself to the Requiem 
 with greater ardour than ever. During his labour, he 
 was seized with frequent fainting fits, and reduced to 
 the most extreme debility. On the day of his death.
 
 MOZART. 19 
 
 he desired the score to be brought to his bed. " Waa 
 I not right," he said to his afflicted wife, " when I as- 
 sured you that it was for myself that I was composing 
 this Requiem ?" At the end of the month the stranger 
 returned, and found that the work was still unfinished ; 
 but its author was no more. 
 
 The Requiem was afterwards completed by Sussmayer, 
 a composer of considerable eminence, who was a friend 
 of Mozart's family. The circumstances under which 
 this work was composed, and the state in which it was 
 when Mozart's pen was arrested by death, have oc- 
 casioned, at different times, a good deal of controversy 
 in Germany; but the matter has not been fully cleared 
 up. In the year 1827, an edition of the Requiem was 
 published by Andre, a respectable music-publisher at 
 Offenbach, the preface to which contains all the infor- 
 mation on the subject that can now be obtained. From 
 M. Andre's statements it would appear, that the person 
 by whom Mozart was employed to compose this work, 
 was a Count Waldseck, who, having lost his wife, 
 took it into his head not to obtain, but to pretend to 
 compose, a Requiem to her memory; that he deter- 
 mined to procure a composition of which the reputed 
 authorship would do him credit ; and that his steward 
 was Mozart's mysterious visitant. M. Andre s evi- 
 dence amounts to a presumption, and nothing more, 
 that this might have been the case ; but the truth will 
 now probably never be ascertained. i 
 
 After Mozart's death, his widow begged Sussmayer 
 to examine and put in order his manuscripts, which 
 were in great confusion; and the unfinished Requiem 
 being found among them, she requested him to com- 
 
 c 2
 
 20 MOZART. 
 
 plete it, which he accordingly did. It appears from 
 a letter written by her to M. Andre, in answer to some 
 inquiries made by him, that the movements from the 
 beginning down to the Dies irce were completed by 
 Mozart ; but that, of the subsequent movements, viz.^ 
 the Dies irce^ the Tuba mirum spargms sonum^ the 
 Rex tremendce inajestatis^ the Becordare, and the Confu- 
 tatis, Mozart had made only a sketch or outline, con- 
 sisting of the principal voice parts, with indications of 
 the most prominent effects in the instrumental accom- 
 paniments; and that the voice parts had been filled up, 
 and the instrumental score completed, by Sussmayer. 
 In M. Andre's edition, he has distinguished as far as 
 possible, by means of marks, the original work of 
 Mozart from Sussmayer's additions. 
 
 It is deeply to be regretted, that Mozart was pre- 
 vented from completing this most pathetic and impres- 
 sive of all his productions. No unpleasant feeling of 
 uncertainty, indeed, can subsist as to its entire authen- 
 ticity; because, independently of all other proof, the 
 music itself furnishes internal evidence that every idea 
 it contains flowed from the mind of Mozart himself, 
 and that what remained to be done consisted of rem- 
 plissage, — a task which a skilful musician could execute 
 in precise conformity with the clearly indicated inten- 
 tions of the author. But had he lived, he would have 
 given the work a conclusion worthy of its greatness, 
 the want of which has rendered it necessary to finish 
 by a repetition of the opening movement with different 
 words. 
 
 Mozart died on the 5th of December, 1791, before 
 he had completed his thirty-sixth year. With many
 
 MOZART. 21 
 
 weaknesses, his character appears to have been singu- 
 larly interesting. He was " In wit a man, simplicity 
 a child." He was a man, not only in the gifts which 
 raised him to the summit of excellence in his art, but 
 in some of the noblest qualities of human nature ; while 
 he was a child in relation to that worldly wisdom 
 without which no man can safely tread the dangerous 
 paths of human life. His health was always delicate; 
 he was thin and pale, and appeared never to have 
 reached his natural growth. In his face there was 
 nothing remarkable but the variety of expression it 
 assumed, according to the feelings which affected him 
 at the moment ; nor was there anything extraordinary 
 in his habits, if we except his extreme fondness for the 
 game of billiards. From his earliest years his whole 
 mind was so engrossed with musical ideas, that he 
 never acquired the knowledge of the world requisite 
 for transacting the most ordinary business. His fixing 
 his affections on the admirable woman whom he mar- 
 ried, was the wisest act, as it was the happiest event, 
 of his life. Constance Weber was his guide, his moni- 
 tress, his guardian angel. She regulated his domestic 
 establishment, managed his affairs, was the cheerful 
 companion of his happier hours, and his never-failing 
 consolation in sickness and despondency. He passion- 
 ately loved her, and evinced his feelings by the most 
 tender and delicate attentions. Her health, like his 
 own, was precarious. During a long illness which she 
 had, he used always to meet the friends who came to 
 visit her with his finger on his lips, to caution them 
 against noise ; and so much did this gesture become a 
 habit with him, that, long after her recovery, he used
 
 22 MOZART. 
 
 to meet his friends with his finger on his lips, and 
 address them in a whisper. It was his practice to ride 
 out early in the morning ; and, while her illness con- 
 tinued, he used to leave a note upon her pillow, folded 
 like a physician's prescription, and containing some 
 little affectionate message or advice. 
 
 Mozart was utterly incapable of meanness or dupli- 
 city of any sort. He was frank and candid in the 
 expression of his sentiments, and as prompt and liberal 
 in acknowledging merit as he was decided in exposing 
 arrogant pretension, jealousy, or envy. He was, too, 
 disinterested and benevolent in the highest degree, and 
 the extreme kindness of his nature was grossly abused 
 by artful performers, music-sellers, and managers of 
 theatres. Whenever any poor artists, strangers in 
 Vienna, applied to him for assistance, he offered them 
 the use of his house and table, introduced them to the 
 persons whom he thought could be of use to them, and 
 frequently composed for their use concertos, of which 
 he did not even keep a copy, in order that they might 
 have the exclusive advantage of playing them. But, 
 not content with this, they sold these pieces to music- 
 publishers ; and thus repaid his kindness by robbing 
 him. He seldom received any recompense for his 
 piano-forte compositions, but generally wrote them for 
 his friends, who were, of course, anxious to possess 
 some work of his for their own use, and suited to their 
 powers of playing. Artaria, a music-seller of Vienna, 
 and other members of the trade, contrived to get pos- 
 session of many of these pieces, and published them, 
 without obtaining the author's consent, or making him 
 any remuneration for them. A Polish count, who was
 
 MOZART. 23 
 
 invited to a concert at Mozart's house, heard a quintet 
 performed for the first time, with which he was so 
 greatly delighted that he asked Mozart to compose for 
 him a trio for the flute. Mozart agreed, on condition 
 that he should do it at his own time. The count next 
 day sent a polite note, expressive of his thanks for 
 pleasure he had enjoyed, and, along with it, one 
 hundred gold demi-sovereigns (about 1001. sterling). 
 Mozart immediately sent him the original score of the 
 quintet that had pleased him so much. The count re- 
 turned to Vienna a year afterwards, and, calling upon 
 Mozart, inquired for the trio. Mozart said that he had 
 never found himself in a disposition to write anything 
 worthy of his acceptance. " Perhaps, then," said the 
 count, " you may find yourself in a disposition to 
 return me the hundred demi-sovereigns I paid you 
 beforehand." Mozart instantly handed him the money, 
 but the count said not a word about the quintet ; and 
 the composer soon afterwards had the satisfaction of 
 seeing it published by Artaria, arranged as a quartet, 
 for the piano-forte, violin, tenor, and violoncello. Mo- 
 zart's quintets for wind instruments, published also as 
 piano-forte quartets, are among the most charming and 
 popular of his instrumental compositions for the cham- 
 ber ; and this anecdote is a specimen of the manner in 
 which he lost the benefit he ought to have derived, 
 €ven from his finest works. The opera of the Zauher- 
 fiote was composed for the purpose of relieving the 
 distresses of a manager, who had been ruined by un- 
 successful speculations, and came to implore his assist- 
 ance. Mozart gave him the score without price, with 
 full permission to perform it in his own theatre, and fox
 
 ?f4 MOZABT. 
 
 his own benefit ; only stipulating that he was not to 
 give a copy to any one, in order that the author might 
 afterwards be enabled to dispose of the copyright. 
 The manager promised strict compliance with the con- 
 dition. The opera was brought out, filled his theatre 
 and his pockets, and, some short time afterwards, ap- 
 peared at five or six difi'erent theatres, by means of 
 copies received from the grateful manager. 
 
 Notwithstanding the indefatigable ardour with which 
 Mozart used to write at those times when his mind 
 was strongly engaged in his work, at other times he 
 would give himself up to indolence, and often procras- 
 tinated the completion of a piece till the moment of 
 performance was at hand. On such occasions he got 
 out of the scrape, sometimes by working with surpri- 
 sing rapidity, and at other times by trusting to his 
 powers of memory, and playing a piece without hav- 
 ing written it down. The celebrated overture to Don 
 Giovanni was entirely written during the night pre- 
 vious to the first performance of the opera, after he 
 had spent the day in the fatiguing occupation of con- 
 ducting the general rehearsal. He began his task 
 about eleven o'clock at night, having got his wife to 
 make him some punch, and to sit by him to keep him 
 awake. He v^ote while she ransacked her memory 
 for the fairy tales of her youth, and all the humorous 
 and amusing stories she could think of. As long as 
 she kept him laughing till the tears ran down his 
 cheeks, he got on rapidly, but if she was silent for a 
 moment, he dropped asleep. Seeing, at last, that he 
 could hold out no longer, she persuaded him to lie 
 down for a couple of hours. At five in the morning
 
 MOZART. 25 
 
 she awoke him, and at seven, when the copyists ap- 
 peared, the score was completed. There was barely 
 time to write out the necessary number of parts, and 
 the overture was performed without any rehearsal, — a 
 thing which, in those days, could have been done no- 
 where but in Germany. 
 
 It has always been said that this overture was com- 
 posed during the night before its first performance ; but 
 Mozart was not in the habit of composing with the pen 
 in his hand. His practice was, not merely to form in 
 his mind a sketch, or outline, of a piece of music, but 
 to work it up and complete it in all its parts ; and it 
 was not till this was done that he committed it to paper, 
 which he did with rapidity, even when surrounded by 
 his friends and joining in their conversation. There 
 can be no doubt, that the overture to Don Giovanni 
 existed, fully formed in his mind, when he sat down to 
 write it the night before its performance ; and even 
 then, his producing, with such rapidity, a score for so 
 many instruments, and so rich in harmony and con- 
 trivance, indicates a strength of conception, and a power 
 of memory altogether wonderful. He himself has given 
 an interesting account of his method of composition in 
 a letter to one of his friends, a noble amateur, of which 
 a translation from the original manuscript, in the 
 possession of Mr. Moscheles, is published in the Har- 
 monicon for November, 1825. The whole letter is 
 full of delightful simplicity, and gives a very favour- 
 able impression both of the head and heart of the 
 writer. 
 
 " You say you should like to know my way of com- 
 posing, and what method I follow in writing works of
 
 26 MOZART. 
 
 some extent. I can really say no more upon this sub- 
 ject than the following, — for I myself know no more 
 about it, and cannot account for it. When I am, as it 
 were, completely myself, entirely alone, and of good 
 cheer, — say travelling in a carriage, or walking after a 
 good meal, or during the night when I cannot sleep,— 
 it is on such occasions that my ideas flow best and 
 most abundantly. Whence and how they come, I 
 know not, nor can I force them. Those ideas that 
 please me I retain in memory, and I am accustomed, 
 as I have been told, to hum them to myself. If I 
 continue in this way, it soon occurs to me how I may 
 turn this or that morsel to account, so as to make a 
 good dish of it, — that is to say, agreeably to the rules 
 of counterpoint, the peculiarities of the different in- 
 struments, &c. All this fires my soul ; and, provided 
 I am not disturbed, my subject enlarges itself, becomes 
 methodized and defined, and the whole, though it be 
 long, stands almost finished and complete in my mind, 
 so that I can survey it, like a fine picture or a beautiful 
 statue, at a glance. Nor do I hear in my imagination 
 the parts successively, but I hear them, as it were, all at 
 once. The delight this gives me I cannot express. 
 All this inventing, this producing, takes place, as it 
 were, in a pleasing, lively dream; still the actual 
 hearing of the tout ensemble is, after all, the best. 
 "What has been thus produced I do not easily forget ; 
 and this is, perhaps, the best gift I have my Divine 
 Maker to thank for. 
 
 " When I proceed to write down my ideas, I take 
 out of the bag of my memory, if I may use that phrase, 
 what has previously been collected into it in the way I
 
 MOZART. 27 
 
 have mentioned : for this reason, the committing to 
 paper is done quickly enough, for everything, as I said 
 before, is already finished; and it rarely differs on 
 paper from what it was in my imagination. At this 
 occupation I can, therefore, suffer myself to be dis- 
 turbed; for, whatever may be going on around me, 
 still I write, and even talk on trifling matters. But 
 why productions take from my hand that particular 
 form and style which makes them Mozartish, and 
 different from the works of other composers, is probably 
 owing to the same cause which renders my nose so- 
 and-so, large, or aquiline, or, in short, makes it Mozart's, 
 and different from those of other people ; for I really 
 do not study to aim at any originality. I should, in 
 fact, not be able to describe in what mine consists ; 
 though I think it quite natural, that persons who have 
 really an individual appearance of their own, are also 
 differently organized from others, both externally and 
 internally. Let this suffice, and never, my best friend, 
 never trouble me again with such subjects." 
 
 A celebrated female performer on the violin being in 
 Vienna in the year 1786, solicited Mozart to compose a 
 piece for their joint performance at her concert. With 
 his characteristic good-nature he agreed to do so, and 
 accordingly composed and arranged, in his mind, his 
 well known sonata for the piano-forte and violin, in B 
 flat, esteemed one of the finest of his works of this 
 class. But the day of the concert approached, and the 
 lady, fuU of anxiety, endeavoured, without effect, to 
 get him to commit it to paper ; it was only the evening 
 before the concert that he sent her the violin part. The 
 concert was attended by the court, and all the rank and
 
 28 MOZART. 
 
 fashion of Vienna. The sonata began ; the performance 
 of both artists was perfect, and the audience in rap- 
 tures. But there was one personage in the room whose 
 enjoyment exceeded that of all the rest of the audience, 
 —it was the Emperor Joseph the Second, who, in his 
 box over the heads of the performers, was able, by 
 means of his opera-glass, to see that Mozart had nothing 
 before him but a sheet of blank paper. At the end of 
 the piece, the emperor beckoned Mozart to his box, and 
 said to him, in a half-whisper, " So, Mozart, you have 
 once more trusted to chance !" — " Yes, Sire," answered 
 the composer, with a smile of mingled triumph and 
 confusion. Had he previously played over the piece 
 along with the lady, this feat would not have been so 
 very wonderful, even though he had not written down 
 the piano-forte part, but he had never once heard it 
 along with the violin. 
 
 Among his most favourite composers were Porpora, 
 Durante, Leo, and Alessandro Scarlatti ; and a com- 
 parison of his scores with those of Gluck shows how 
 much he had studied the works of that great master : 
 but he placed Handel above all other musicians. " Of 
 all of us," he was wont to say, " Handel understands 
 best how to produce a great effect ; when he chooses, 
 he can strike like a thunderbolt." He was not given 
 to talking of his own works ; but, among his operas, he 
 gave the preference to Idomeneo and Don Giovanni. 
 
 Notwithstanding his good-nature, his well-known 
 delicacy of ear, and power of detecting the most minute 
 errors, made the performers very much afraid of singing 
 his music in his presence. In one of his visits to 
 Berlin he arrived in the evening, and found, on inquiry
 
 MOZART. 29 
 
 at the inn, that his Entfuhrung aus dem Serail was the 
 opera that night at the theatre. He immediately 
 repaired thither, and placed himself at the entrance of 
 the pit, that he might listen without being observed. 
 But he was sometimes so much pleased, and other 
 times so much provoked, by the performance, that he 
 insensibly got close behind the orchestra, continually 
 expressing his pleasure or disapprobation pretty audibly. 
 At last they came to an alteration which had been 
 made in one of his airs, at which, unable to restrain 
 himself, he called out to the orchestra that it ought to 
 be played in a different manner. Everybody began to 
 stare at the man in a great coat, who was making all 
 this noise. Some person in the orchestra recognised 
 him, and in a moment the performers were told that 
 Mozart was in the theatre. There was a general panic 
 on the stage, and some of the fugitives were so 
 frightened, that they could not be prevailed upon to 
 return till Mozart went behind the scenes, and suc- 
 ceeded, by good-humoured compliments, in restoring 
 their confidence, and getting them to go on with the 
 piece. 
 
 Mozart's works consist of Italian and German operas^ 
 masses, and other compositions for the church, and 
 symphonies, quintets, quartets, sonatas, concertos, and 
 other instrumental pieces. 
 
 Of his operas, nine were composed to Italian words ; 
 — La Finta Semplice, Mithridate^ Ltccio Silla^ Let 
 Giardiniera^ Idomeneo, Le Nozze di Figaro, Don 
 Giovanni, Cosi/an tutte, and La Clemenza di Tito. He 
 wrote only three German operas, the Entfuhrung au» 
 dem Serail, the Schausjpiel-director, and the Zauherjlote,
 
 30 MOZABT. 
 
 Mozart was the founder of a scLool of dramatic 
 music, to which every composer who has flourished 
 since his time may be considered as belonging. Its 
 chief peculiarity consists in the fulness of the orchestral 
 parts ; and hence it has been called, by M. Choron and 
 others, the dramatic symphony. In the operas of 
 Mozart, the accompaniments, even of the airs, display 
 a richness of harmony, and a variety in the combina- 
 tions of the different instruments, previously unexam- 
 pled ; while, during the long finales and other concerted 
 pieces, in which the most animated and busy scenes of 
 the piece are carried on, the music of the orchestra 
 consists of a series of movements which are written and 
 played in the symphony style, and, instead of accom- 
 panying, are accompanied by, the performers on the 
 stage, who carry on the dialogue in a succession of 
 vocal phrases written upon the instrumental symphony, 
 while their motions are regulated by its time. This 
 method, when used with the exquisite skill and judg- 
 ment of Mozart himself, was found to be not only 
 delightful to the ear, but quite consistent with the 
 proper rapidity and freedom of dramatic action. In 
 his operas, even while the orchestra is in the full career 
 of a symphonic movement, the vocal phrases given to 
 the singers are so well separated from each other, so 
 distinctly marked and easily enunciated, so well accented, 
 emphatic, and expressive, that they stand out, as it 
 were, in strong relief from the instrumental ground of 
 the picture, and can be expressed by the performers 
 without constraint or injury to the spirit and effect of 
 the scene. This method, accordingly, was so attractive, 
 that its universal adoption has made all the older music
 
 MOZART. 31 
 
 of the stage appear meagre and unsatisfactory; and 
 modern audiences will hardly listen with patience even 
 to the masterpieces of Gluck, Piccini, or Paesiello ;— 
 an unhappy, but necessary consequence of the ceaseless 
 changes to which every description of music — save the 
 highest of all — is liable. By the more immediate 
 followers of Mozart in Germany, Italy, France, and 
 Englaad, — Winter, Mayer, Cimarosa, Mehul, Cheru- 
 bini, and Storace, — this application of symphonic 
 composition to the stage was kept within Mozart's own 
 bounds; but, more recently, the orchestra has been 
 assuming a more and more prominent position. Even 
 in the hands of the greatest masters of the present day, 
 it is frequently allowed to gain an undue ascendancy, 
 at the expense of the vocal performers ; and, in the 
 most fashionable productions of the living Italian com- 
 posers, the singers can only, by means of bellowing and 
 screaming, contrive to be heard amidst the "pitiless 
 storm" which rages in the orchestra. 
 
 Mozart, though eminently original in his ideas, was 
 indebted, in his dramatic music, to the best models then 
 existing. Like Gluck, he discarded the conventional 
 rules as to the length and construction of the airs, and 
 followed no guide but the expression of sentiment and 
 the production of dramatic effect ; while he gained from 
 the Italian school a melody, the phrases of which are 
 more flowing, round, and extended, than those of 
 Gluck. This, however, relates only to the form of his 
 music; its substance was his own. His divine airs 
 and ravishing harmonies sprang from the inexhaustible 
 fountain of his own heart, and were the language given 
 him by nature to express the feelings and emotions
 
 32 MOZART. 
 
 with which that heart overflowed. But his power of 
 musical expression was limited by the range of those 
 feelings. He could make his listeners sigh, or weep, 
 or tremble; he could dissolve them in tenderness, or 
 fill them with awe; because such emotions were 
 familiar to his own mind. He could inspire tranquillity 
 and cheerfulness, but seldom gaiety, and never mirth. 
 He could raise a smile, but not laughter. He has 
 written comic operas, but their comedy lies in their 
 subjects, their situations, or their dialogues, not in their 
 music. In his Figaro, for example, we find hardly a 
 trait of the light-hearted, quaint, grotesque Spanish 
 barber, drawn by the original French dramatist, and so 
 faithfully rendered by Rossini. Figaro laughs at his 
 master while he foils his designs ; but Mozart gives 
 the character quite a different air, and by throwing 
 into it considerable dignity and passion, makes it 
 interesting instead of comic. In all the comic pieces of 
 Mozart, there is not a single air which speaks the 
 language of comedy without the aid of words, like the 
 *' Se fiato in corpo avete" of Cimarosa, or the " Largo 
 al factotum" of Rossini. The song in Don Giovanni, 
 " Madamina, catalogo e questo," sung by Leporello, the 
 valet, is in the style of the broadest comedy; but let it 
 be sung without words or comic gestures, and a person 
 unacquainted with it might suppose it to express 
 impetuous passion, melting into the softest tendernees. 
 The passages in which Mozart is really comic, occur in 
 the same opera, and in situations where the ludicrous 
 is wildly mixed with horror. In the scene with the 
 statue in the churchyard, every inflexion of Leporello's 
 voice is full of grotesque terror ; and this is the case,
 
 MOZART. 33 
 
 also, when he bursts into his master s room, exclaiming 
 that the " man of stone" is on the stairs, and imitating 
 the heavy tread of the unearthly visitant. But the 
 ludicrous often mingles with the horrible in the most 
 gloomy imagination. In the Cost fan tutte, which is a 
 piece of pure badinage from beginning to end, and in 
 which there is not more seriousness than in Lord 
 Byron's Beppo, Mozart has thrown into the music a 
 tone of feeling and passion which is constantly at 
 variance with the levity of the characters and the 
 farcical nature of the incidents. 
 
 This deficiency of vis comica in these comic operas 
 might have been a serious objection to them, were it 
 not for their innumerable beauties, among which it is 
 diminished to a speck. In order to be faultless as 
 works of art, they ought certainly to have combined 
 the vivacity and humour of Rossini with Moz£.rt's own 
 tenderness, melancholy, and passion. But the same 
 work cannot exhibit the results of different and probably 
 incompatible mental temperaments ; and it would be as 
 unreasonable to expect from Mozart the sparkling gaiety 
 of Rossini, as to expect from Rossini the profound 
 feeling of Mozart. That the qualities of Mozart are 
 immeasurably higher than those of Rossini is disputed 
 by none ; but the best comic pieces of the Italian com- 
 poser are so full of amusement, and so calculated to 
 please the popular ear, that their liveliness and brilliancy, 
 aided by the love of novelty, have, for the time, thrown 
 into the shade the far less perishable beauties of his 
 illustrious predecessor. 
 
 The two operas, Idomeneo and La Clemenza di Tito^ 
 - are perfect specimens of the serious musical drama, un- 
 
 VOL. II. D
 
 34 MOZART. 
 
 rivalled by any works of this lofty class which have 
 either preceded or followed them. In the Zauherjlote, 
 the genius of Mozart has luxuriated in the romantic 
 wildness of the subject, and produced creations of en- 
 chanting beauty, like those of Shakspeare in the Mid- 
 summer Night's Dream. But it is in the impassioned 
 scenes and unearthly horrors of Don Giovanni that he 
 has displayed his highest powers ; and this astonishing 
 production is the greatest triumph that has yet been 
 achieved in dramatic music. 
 
 In sacred music, Mozart, like every other composer, 
 must yield to Handel; but the Requiem is the most 
 solemn, expressive, and deeply affecting religious com- 
 position that has appeared since the days of that mighty 
 master. In his masses, written for the ordinary service 
 of the church, he has conformed to the prevailing taste 
 of the time, and mingled strains full of sublimity and 
 devotional feeling with light and airy passages, at vari- 
 ance alike with the style of ecclesiastical music and 
 with the sentiments which it ought to inspire. His 
 sacred musical drama, Davide Penitente, has never been 
 performed in England, though one or two of the aire 
 have .been sung at our festivals. The effect of the 
 work, when given entire, is described by those who 
 have heard it as being very great; the concluding 
 fugue, in particular, and double chorus with which it 
 terminates, being of surpassing grandeur. 
 
 In instrumental music he has never yet been excelled. 
 His magnificent symphonies are the delight of every 
 audience ; and every amateur, worthy of the title, knows 
 well his exquisite quartets and quintets. His concertos 
 and sonatas fox the piano-forte have been, in a con-
 
 PLEYEL. 35 
 
 siderable measure, laid aside to make way for more 
 modem compositions ; some of which, being written by 
 truly great masters for an instrument, the powers of 
 which have been greatly enlarged, are really more 
 striking and effective ; while others are popular merely 
 because they afford room for a display of showy execu- 
 tion. But, from pieces of the former as well as the 
 latter kind, we turn with pleasure to the pure, delicate, 
 and graceful music of Mozart, when performed by an 
 artist of a spirit congenial to his own, — an artist such 
 as John Cramer, whose recent retirement from his 
 profession is a loss which the musical world will long 
 have reason to deplore. 
 
 Among the German composers who flourished in the 
 latter part of the last century, none, for a time, enjoyed 
 greater popularity than Pleyel. He was bom in 
 Austria, in 1757, and studied under Haydn. He was 
 for a considerable time chapel-master at Strasburg, but 
 spent the latter part of his life in Paris, where he was 
 an extensive publisher of music. Pleyel's compositions 
 are very numerous, and almost entirely instrumental, 
 consisting of orchestral symphonies, quartets, trios, 
 duets, concertos, sonatas, &c., for various instruments. 
 Dr. Bumey, speaking of Pleyel in 1789, says, "There 
 has lately been a rage for the music of Pleyel, which 
 has diminished the attention of amateurs and the public 
 to all other violin music. But whether this ingenious 
 and engaging composer does not draw faster from the 
 fountain of his invention than it will long bear, and 
 whether his imitations of Haydn, and too constant use 
 of semitones, and coquetry in rallentandos and pauses, 
 will not be soon construed into affectation, I know not ; 
 
 J> 2
 
 36 PLEYEL. 
 
 but it has already been remarked by critical observers, 
 that his fancy, though at first so fertile, is not so inex- 
 haustible but that he frequently repeats himself, and 
 does not sufficiently disdain the mixture of common 
 passages with his own elegant ideas." Though the true 
 character of Pleyel's music was thus early appreciated 
 by judicious critics, yet the rage for it went on in- 
 creasing ; and, for many years after Burney wrote, and 
 long after the music of Haydn and Mozart had been 
 introduced into England, the quartets, sonatas for the 
 piano-forte, and other instrumental compositions of 
 Pleyel, were in general use, to the exclusion of the far 
 superior works of those masters. Perhaps our ama- 
 teurs have now erred in going to the opposite extreme; 
 for, though Pleyel's music possesses neither depth of 
 harmony, greatness of conception, nor strength of 
 feeling, yet it is often exceedingly melodious, elegant, 
 and graceful ; and some of his quartets ought still to be 
 among the stock pieces of every society of amateurs.
 
 37 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THK MD8IC OF THE REFORMED CHURCH. — METRICAL 
 PSALMODY. 
 
 The music, which, at the time of the Reformation, was 
 adopted in the Liturgy of the Church of England, did 
 not differ much from that which had been employed in 
 the corresponding parts of the Romish ritual. The 
 English Liturgy, or Book of Common Prayer, was 
 published, and ordered to be generally used, in 1548 ; 
 and, in 1550, the whole cathedral service was set to 
 musical notes, and published by John Marbeck, or- 
 ganist of Windsor*. The chants of the principal 
 hymns, such as the Te Deum Lamlamus^ and responses 
 
 " The history of this man is remarkable. He was favourable 
 to the Reformation, and formed a society with several persons 
 of similar principles. Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, having 
 received intimation that Marbeck and his friends held frequent 
 meetings, obtained a commission to search for heretical books. 
 Marbeck was apprehended, along with Anthony Person, a priest, 
 Robert Testwood, a chorister, and Henry Filmer, a tradesman 
 of Windsor. Among Marbeck's papers were found, in his own 
 hand-writing, some notes on the Bible, and a Concordance. He 
 was tried for heresy, with his three friends, and they were all con- 
 demned. The others were immediately brought to the stake, but 
 Marbeck appears to have been saved in consequence of Gardiner's 
 personal regard for liim. After this escape he applied indus- 
 triously to his professional pursuits; and, on the death of 
 Henry VIII., made a public profession of the Protestant faith, 
 and completed and published his Concordance.
 
 38 MUSIC OF THE KEFORMED CHURCH. 
 
 contained in Marbeck's book, were nearly the same 
 with the missals, graduals, and antiphonaries formerly 
 used. The anthems, too, originally composed for the 
 reformed church, appear to have been similar to those 
 previously used, except that their words were English 
 instead of Latin; and the great ecclesiastical com- 
 posers of the time of Edward the Sixth, of whom 
 some account has already been given, have also left 
 specimens of their previous compositions of a similar 
 kind, adapted to the Latin words of the Romish ritual. 
 When Queen Mary abrogated all the laws of her pre- 
 decessor concerning religion, and restored the Romish 
 service, it appears that the compositions of the same 
 masters, Tye, Tallis, Bird, &c., with Latin words, 
 were again performed in the churches ; for the list of 
 the establishment of the queen's chapel contained nearly 
 the same names with that of Edward the Sixth. 
 And it is not a little remarkable that, after the acces- 
 sion of Elizabeth, the establishment of the royal chapel 
 remained almost the same as in the two preceding 
 reigns. These great harmonists seem to have been 
 little troubled with religious scruples. 
 
 Elizabeth succeeded to the crown in November, 1558, 
 and, in April following, gave the royal assent to the 
 Bill for the uniformity of Common Prayer; and the 
 Book of Common Prayer, thus established by law, was 
 published immediately afterwards. At this time reli- 
 gious dissensions ran very high; and, in respect to 
 church music, in particular, the Puritans had begun 
 to raise that clamour against " playing upon organs," 
 "curious singing," and "tossing about the psalms 
 from side to side" — ^meaning responsive or alternate
 
 MUSIC OF THE REFORMED CHURCH. 39 
 
 singing, — ^which, at a subsequent period, banished, for 
 a time, choral music from our churches. Elizabeth, in 
 these circumstances, conducted herself with the wisdom 
 which belonged to her character ; avoiding, on the one 
 hand, the bigotry and superstition of the Romish 
 Church, and, on the other, the fanaticism of the violent 
 reformers. " In 1560," says Heylin, in his Ecclesiastical 
 History^ " the Church of England, as it was first settled 
 and established under Queen Elizabeth, may be re- 
 garded as brought to perfection. The government of 
 the church by archbishops and bishops; its doctrines 
 reduced to their ancient purity, according to the articles 
 agreed on in Convocation, 1552 ; the liturgy, conform- 
 able to the primitive patterns, and all the rites and 
 ceremonies therein prescribed, accommodated to the 
 honour of God and increase of piety. The festivals 
 preserved in their former dignity ; the sacrament cele- 
 brated in the most reverend maimer ; music retained in 
 aU such churches in which provision had been made 
 for the maintenance of it, or where the people could be 
 trained up, at least, to plain song. All which particulars 
 were either established by the laws, commanded by the 
 queen's injunctions, or otherwise retained by virtue of 
 some ancient usages not by law prohibited. Nor is it 
 much to be admired Qwondered at], that such a general 
 conformity to those ancient usages was constantly 
 observed in all cathedrals, and the most part of the 
 parish churches, considering how well they were pre- 
 cedented by the court itself; in which the liturgy was 
 officiated every day, both morning and evening, not 
 only in the public chapel, but the private closet ;— 
 celebrated in the chapel with organs and other musical
 
 40 MUSIC OP THE REFORMED CHURCH. 
 
 instruments, and the most excellent voices, both of 
 men and children, that could be procured in all the 
 kingdom." 
 
 During Queen Elizabeth's reign the Puritans made 
 frequent demonstrations of their hostility to the service 
 of the Established Church. In 1571 , they published a 
 Declaration, or Confession^ in which they say, " Con- 
 cerning singing of psalms, we allow of the people's 
 joining with one voice in a plain tune, but not of tossing 
 the psalms from one side to the other, with intermin- 
 gling of organs." In 1586 a pamphlet was extensively 
 circulated, entitled A Request of all true Christians to 
 the House of Parliament^ which, among other changes, 
 prays " that all cathedral churches may be put down, 
 where the service of God is generally abused by piping 
 with organs, singing, ringing, and trowling of psalms 
 from one side of the choir to the other, with the squeak- 
 ing of chanting choristers, disguised (as are all the 
 rest) in white surplices ; some in corner caps and sUly 
 copes, imitating the fashion and manner of Antichrist, 
 the Pope, that man of sin and child of perdition, with 
 his other rabble of miscreants and shavelings." These 
 are specimens of the spirit in which this hostility was 
 carried on in England, with increasing violence, till it 
 at length accomplished its object. 
 
 But the proceedings of the English Puritans were 
 moderate, when compared with the conduct of similar 
 sects in France and the Low Countries. The histories 
 of that period contain many accounts of their outrages, 
 of which the following, related by Strada {De Bella 
 Belgico) may be taken as an instance. 
 
 "On the 21st of August, 1566, these gentry came
 
 MUSIC OP THE REFORMED CHURCH. 41 
 
 into the great church of Antwerp with weapons hidden 
 under their clothes; and, waiting till vespers were 
 over, they shouted with a hideous cry of " Long live the 
 GheuMs" a name which they had taken at a drinking- 
 bout by way of distinguishing their faction. Nay, 
 they commanded the image of the Blessed Virgin to 
 repeat their acclamations, and madly swore they would 
 beat and kill her if she refused to comply. And 
 though Joannes Immerselius, the governor of the town, 
 with some apparitors, ordered them to keep the peace, 
 they would not listen to them : and, well-meaning 
 people having fled, to get out of the tumult, the 
 Gheuses shut the door after them, and, like conquerors, 
 possessed themselves of the church ; where, finding no 
 resistance, when the clock struck the last hour of the 
 day, and darkness increased their confidence, one of 
 them, in order to give formality to their wickedness, 
 began to sing a Geneva psalm. Then, as if a trumpet 
 had sounded a charge, being all moved by the same 
 spirit, they fell upon the images of the mother of our 
 Saviour, of Christ himself, and his Apostles. Some 
 threw them down and trampled upon them; and others 
 thrust swords into their sides and hacked off their 
 heads with axes. They broke the picture-frames, 
 defaced the buildings on the walls, demolished the 
 organs, threw down the statues from their niches and 
 pedestals, and committed every possible violence and 
 impiety, even to the greasing of their shoes with the 
 holy oil, and getting drunk with the wine which they 
 found in the vestry prepared for the altar." 
 
 When Queen Elizabeth established the Liturgy in
 
 42 MUSIC OF THE REFORMED CHITRCH. 
 
 the manner already mentioned, she published injunc- 
 tions to the clergy, in one of which, on the subject of 
 church music, it is said, — " The queen's majesty nei- 
 ther meaning in anywise the decay of anything that 
 might conveniently tend to the use and continuance of 
 musick, neither to have the same so abused in any part 
 of the church, that thereby the common prayer should 
 be worse understood by the hearers, willeth and com- 
 mandeth that there be a modest and distinct song, so 
 used in all parts of the common prayers of the church, 
 that the same may be as plainly understood as if it 
 were without singers." This injunction has been gene- 
 rally obeyed, and it has contributed to the unrivalled 
 excellence of the choral music of the church of England, 
 which, while it possesses all the grandeur which the 
 power of harmony can bestoAV, is grave, solemn, and 
 devout, and free from that mixture of intricate coun- 
 terpoint with light and florid airs, which gives such a 
 motley and incongruous character to the music of the 
 Romish Church. But the Puritans of the sixteenth 
 and seventeenth centuries attacked without discrimi- 
 nation everything, whether good or bad, that was 
 derived from the ancient service of the church ; and 
 therefore, not content with the reform which had been 
 effected in choral music, they still insisted on its total 
 abolition. 
 
 Besides the music properly belonging to the Liturgy 
 of the Church of England, the character and form of 
 which was thus settled by law, there is another im- 
 portant branch of church music, common to all Protes- 
 tant places of worship. This is Metrical Psalmody,
 
 METRICAL PSALMODY. 43 
 
 to the origin of which we have already had occasion 
 to advert ; but it is necessary now to trace somewhat 
 more particularly its introduction into Great Britain. 
 
 Metrical Psalmody appears to have been used so 
 early as the twelfth or thirteenth century, by the cele- 
 brated sect of the Albigenses, who anticipated, in some 
 measure, the reformers of later times, and were cruelly 
 extirpated as heretics. It is recorded by ecclesiastical 
 writers, that when their great persecutor, Simon de 
 Montfort, in 1210, had lighted a pile for the destruc- 
 tion of a body of them, they threw themselves into 
 the flames, to the number of a hundred and forty, 
 singing psalms. Psalms were sung in England by the 
 disciples of Wickliffe in the fourteenth century, and 
 by those of John Huss and Jerome of Prague in the 
 fifteenth ; and it appears from a hymn-book of the 
 Bohemian brethren, printed in 1538, (of which an 
 account is given by Bumey,) that the tunes used by 
 them were taken from the chants to which the Latin 
 hymns of the Romish church were sung. This, doubt- 
 less, was the case with the psalms of the other sects 
 that have been mentioned. 
 
 Some of thfe oldest of the psalm tunes still extant 
 are said to have been composed by Luther. This 
 great reformer was not only a lover of music, but con- 
 versant with the art. In one of his epistles, he places 
 music above all arts and sciences, except theology, 
 because religion and music are alone able to soothe and 
 compose the mind. In the same epistle he says, 
 "We know that music is hateful and intolerable to 
 demons;" and thus he concludes, " I verily think, and 
 am not ashamed to say, that, except theology, no art
 
 44 LUTHER. 
 
 is comparable to music." Luther is supposed to be the 
 author of the melody to which we sing the hundredth 
 psalm, and of the hymn on the Last Judgment ; but 
 this belief is not supported by any positive evidence. 
 Tradition gives to him several fine melodies, which are 
 preserved in the German psalm-books, and still sung 
 in all the Lutheran churches*. But, though he may 
 or may not have composed any of those tunes, it is 
 certain that he himself published a collection of psalms 
 in the German language, for the use of the reformed 
 church ; declaring, in one of his epistles, that he in- 
 tended, according to the example of the ancient fathers 
 of the church, to make psalms or spiritual songs for 
 the common people, that the Word of God might con- 
 tinue among them in psalms, if not otherwise. 
 
 This example of publishing metrical versions of the 
 psalms in the vernacular tongue, was soon followed in 
 other countries. In France, the celebrated poet, Marot, 
 about the year 1540, versified thirty of the psalms; 
 and they acquired such favour, that, in spite of the 
 censures of the Sorbonne, they were sung by the king, 
 queen, and chief personages of the court, to the tunes 
 of the most favourite songs of the time. Marot, afraid 
 of persecution for heresy, fled to Geneva, where he 
 versified twenty more of the psalms; and these, with 
 the thirty which had been published at Paris, were 
 printed at Geneva in 1543, with a preface by Calvin 
 himself. The remainder of the psalms were afterwards 
 turned into French verse by Theodore Beza; and the 
 whole were published at Strasburg in 1545. 
 
 • Some of these may be found in the third volume of Burney's 
 History,
 
 GOUDIMEL. — LE JEUNE. 45 
 
 None of these publications contained music, — the 
 psalms, being at first sung to such secular tunes as were 
 conceived to be most suitable to them. But, soon 
 afterwards, diflferent persons composed tunes expressly- 
 adapted to the metrical versions. The first of these 
 seems to have been Guilleaume Franc, who com- 
 posed a set of tunes published at Geneva, but without 
 harmony, as singing in parts was not permitted by 
 Calvin. The other composers of these tunes were Louis 
 Bourgeois, Claude Goudimel, and Claude Lb 
 Jeune, whose different collections, published in the 
 latter part of the sixteenth century, are still extant. 
 Of these composers (except Le Jeune, who was distin- 
 guished in other branches of the art), very little is 
 known. Goudimel, in consequence of his having set 
 to music Marot's psalms, was one of the victims in the 
 massacre of St. Bartholomew. His work, which was 
 first printed at Paris, was afterwards reprinted in 
 Holland, in 1607, for the use of the Calvinists, but it 
 seems not to have been well adapted for congregational 
 singing; for, in an edition of the psalms of Le Jeune, 
 printed at Ley den, in 1633, the editor says that, " In 
 publishing the psalms in parts, he had preferred the 
 music of Claude Le Jeune to that of Goudimel; for, as 
 the counterpoint was simply note for note, the most 
 ignorant of music, if possessed of a voice, and acquainted 
 with the psalm -tune, might join in the performance of 
 any one of them ; which is impracticable in the compo- 
 sitions of Goudimel, many of whose psalms, being com- 
 posed in fugue, can be performed only by persons well 
 skilled in music." 
 
 The first authority for the use of psalmody in Eng-
 
 40 METRICAL PSALMODY. 
 
 land appears to have been the Act of Uniformity for 
 the use of common prayer in English, in 1548, which 
 contained a proviso, that "it shall be lawful for all 
 men, as well in chxirches, chapels, oratories, and other 
 places, to use openly any psalm or prayer taken out of 
 the Bible, at any due time; not letting or omitting 
 thereby the service or any part thereof mentioned in the 
 said book;" that is, the Book of Common Prayer. 
 In the following year, 1549, a metrical version of fifty- 
 one of the psalms was published by Thomos Stemhold. 
 It was reprinted in 1552; but neither edition con- 
 tained musical notes. The entire version of the psalms 
 was not published till 1562, when it was subjoined, 
 for the first time, to the Book of Common Prayer, under 
 this title, — "The Whole Booke of Psalmes, collected 
 into English Metre, by T. Stemhold, J. Hopkins, and 
 others, conferred with the Ebrue, with apt notes to sing 
 them withal," These notes consist of the mere tunes, 
 without bass or any other part. The tunes are chiefly 
 German, and the same which are still used in the Con- 
 tinental Lutheran and Calvinist churches. From this 
 it may be inferred that the same tunes had been previ- 
 ously known in England, and made use of from the 
 time that metrical psalmody was allowed in our 
 churches; and many of these venerable old melodies 
 are retained in our worship to this day. 
 
 The first collection of these psalm-tunes, set in parts, 
 was published in 1579, by William Damon, under the 
 following title: — "The Psalms of David in English 
 Meter, with notes of four parts set unto them by 
 GuiLiELMO Damon, to the use of the godly Christians, 
 for recreating themselves, instede of fonde and un-
 
 BAVENSCROFT. 47 
 
 seemely ballades." An excellent edition of the psalms, 
 containing a separate tune for every psalm, was pub- 
 lished by T. Este in 1594. Several eminent musicians, 
 amoncr whom were Dowland and Famaby, were con- 
 tributors to this work. The principal melody is given 
 to the tenor, and the other parts are cantus, (treble) 
 altuSy (counter-tenor) and bassits. The counterpoint is 
 simple, or note against note; and the harmony excel- 
 lent. A still more valuable collection is that of Ra- 
 VENSCROFT, first published in 1621, which contains a 
 different melody for every psalm. Many of them are 
 by the editor himself, and others are taken from the 
 German, French, and Flemish collections. The har- 
 mony, in four parts, was composed by twenty-one 
 English musicians, among whom we find the distin- 
 guished [names of Tallis, Dowland, Morley, Bennet, 
 Famaby, and John Milton, the father of the poet. In 
 this publication Ravenscroffc has put the name of Dow- 
 land to the hundredth psalm; from which circumstance, 
 the Rev. W. Lisle Bowles* has inferred that Luther 
 could not have been its author, — strengthening this 
 conclusion by showing that the air is so well adapted, 
 not merely to the metre, but to the accent, of the first 
 verse of the English psalm, that it must have been 
 composed expressly for those words. But this is by 
 no means conclusive ; for, in the first place, all that is 
 indicated by Ravenscroft is, that the parts were added 
 by Dowland, the melody itself being placed by him, in 
 the index, among the French tunes; and, in the second 
 place, no argument deduced from any supposed atten- 
 
 • Parochial History of Bremhilh
 
 48 JOHN PLAYFORD. 
 
 tion, on the part of the composers of those days, to 
 the accent or prosody of language, is entitled to much 
 weight. Dowland's secular compositions show that he 
 was wholly inattentive to such considerations. Mr. 
 Bowles, therefore, has left the question as to Luther's 
 authorship of the music of this psalm just where he 
 found it. There is no difficulty in supposing that a 
 simple tune may suit the accents of four lines of verse, 
 though not composed for them; and Luther may have 
 not only composed, but harmonized this tune, though 
 other harmony may have been afterwards put to it by 
 Dowland. 
 
 To those collections we must add that of John Play- 
 ford, published some time after that of Ravenscroft, 
 and entitled, "The whole Book of Psalms, with the 
 usual Hymns and Spiritual Songs, composed in three 
 parts." This collection was long in general use through- 
 out the kingdom, and greatly contributed to the diffu- 
 sion of psalmody. 
 
 In Scotland, as in England, metrical psalmody was 
 introduced at the time of the Reformation; and the 
 psalm-tunes, sung by the congregation, without the 
 accompaniment of an organ or any other instrument, 
 form the only music admitted either into the service of 
 the established church of that country, or into the 
 places of worship of the dissenters who have seceded 
 from it. The psalms are generally sung in unison, or, 
 to speak more accurately, in unisons and octaves; but 
 in congregations among whom there is some musical 
 knowledge, an imperfect harmony is produced by the 
 bass and other parts being sung by such individuals as 
 are capable of doing so. In Edinburgh and the other
 
 METRICAL PSALMODY. 49 
 
 principal towns, the clergymen pay considerable atten- 
 tion to the improvement of psalmody, by forming little 
 choirs of trained singers to lead the congregation, and 
 by promoting among their parishioners the cultivation 
 of singing in parts. 
 
 Since the old collections already mentioned, many 
 books of psalmody have been, and still continue to be 
 published. They are, indeed, by far too numerous; 
 and a great portion of them, being produced by very 
 incompetent persons, are filled with mean and vulgar 
 tunes, and crude and incorrect harmonies. The circu- 
 lation of so many books of this description has tended 
 very much to injure parochial singing; though the evil 
 could easily be remedied by the clergymen and other 
 persons in authority taking care that no books of 
 psalmody were used in places of worship but such as 
 are of known and established character. 
 
 Dr. Bumey entertained very erroneous opinions as to 
 metrical psalmody, and almost everything he says 
 regarding it is tinged with prejudice. The following 
 remarkable passage may be cited as containing a sum- 
 mary of his sentiments on the subject: — " The Puritans, 
 who, during the reign of Queen Elizabeth, had devoted 
 our cathedral service to destruction, and who seemed to 
 wish not only to hear the psalms, but the whole Scrip- 
 tures, syllabically sung in metre, assigned, as a reason 
 for such an abuse of words* ^ as well as annihilation of 
 poetry and music, the absolute necessity of such a 
 simple kind of music as would suit the whole congrega- 
 tion. But why is the whole congregation to sing^ any 
 
 * The Italics in this passage are Dr. Bumey's own, 
 VOL. II. E
 
 50 METRICAL PSALMODY. 
 
 more than preach or read prayers? Indeed, it seems to 
 have been the wish of illiterate and furious reformers, 
 that all religious offices should be performed by field- 
 preachers and street-singers; but it is well known by aU 
 who read the Scriptures, or hear them read, that both 
 singing-men, and singing-women were appointed to per- 
 form distinct parts of religious rites among the ancient 
 Hebrews, as well as Christians ; and it does not appear 
 by any passages in the Bible, by anything which the 
 most ancient and learned commentators have urged con- 
 cerning the performance of the psalms, or by Rabbinical 
 traditions, that they were all originally intended to be 
 sung by the multitude, or whole congregation, indiscri- 
 minately. Singing implies not only a tunable voice 
 but skill in music j for music either is or is not an art^ 
 or something which nature and instinct do not supply; 
 if it be allowed that title, then study, practice, and ex- 
 perience may, at least, be as necessary to its attainment 
 as to that of a mechanical trade or calling. Every 
 member of a conventicle, however it may abound with 
 cordwainers and tailors, would not pretend to make a 
 shoe or a suit of clothes; and yet in our churches, all 
 are to sing. Such singing as is customary in our 
 parochial service gives neither ornament nor dignity to 
 the psalms, or portions of Scripture, that are drawled 
 out and bawled with that unmusical and unmeaning 
 vehemence which the satirist has described : — 
 
 . . . . So swells each windpipe — 
 
 Such as from lab'ring lungs enthusiastic flows, — 
 
 High sound, attemper'd to the vocal nose. 
 
 Dunciad. 
 
 It cannot be for the sake of the sentiments or instruc-
 
 METRICAL PSALMODY. 51 
 
 tions which those words contain; these are better un- 
 derstood when read by the clergyman and clerk; and 
 why, after being read, they should be sung, unless 
 music is supposed to add to their energy or embellish- 
 ment, it is not easy to discover." 
 
 This passage sets out with an insinuation that the 
 introduction of metrical psakuody into the English 
 churches was the work of the Puritans — the same parties 
 " who, during the reign of Queen Elizabeth, had devoted 
 our cathedral service to destruction." But it has been 
 already seen that psalmody was admitted into our Church 
 by the Act of Uniformity for the use of common prayer, 
 in the reign of Edward the Sixth, when the ritual was 
 established in conformity with the doctrines of the 
 reformed religion, and there was no indication of any 
 attempt to destroy the essentials of our cathedral service. 
 Psalmody, of course, was put a stop to by Queen Mary, 
 when the Romish ritual was restored ; but when Eliza^ 
 beth re-established the service of the Protestant Church, 
 the use of psalmody was restored, and immediately 
 became general all over England. For this fact we 
 have Burney's own authority, though he states it in the 
 tone which pervades all that he says on this subject. 
 " In the reign of Queen Mary, all the Protestants, except 
 those who courted martyrdom, sang these psalms sotto 
 voce ; but after the accession of Queen Elizabeth like 
 orgies, they were roared aloud in almost every street as 
 well as church, throughout the kingdom." Psalmody 
 therefore, first introduced in the reign of Edward the 
 Sixth, was restored on the accession of Elizabeth ; and 
 this "wise princess," as Bumey justly calls her, is 
 warmly praised by him, for having " steered, according 
 
 £ 2
 
 52 METRICAL PSALMODY. 
 
 to the true spirit of the Church of England, between the 
 two extremes of superstitious bigotry and irreverent 
 fanaticism." How then can he ascribe the introduction 
 of psalmody to the influence of an irreverent fanaticism, 
 to which Queen Elizabeth refused to yield ? Sternhold 
 and Hopkins's metrical version of the psalms was sub- 
 joined to the book of common prayer, because this wise 
 Queen and her counsellors believed that it could be 
 used with advantage to religion, along with the ritual 
 contained in that book, and not, certainly, from any 
 compliance with the wishes of those who desired its 
 destruction. 
 
 Dr. Bumey then asks, " Why is the whole congregation 
 to sing^ any more than to preach or read prayers ?" The 
 idea of the whole congregation preaching, involves an 
 utter absurdity, which the idea of the whole congregation 
 singing does not ; but the congregation does actually join 
 in reading the prayers ; and why may it not also join in 
 singing the psalms, which are prayers ? If the congre- 
 gation does the one, it is proper and consistent that it 
 should do the other. 
 
 It is asserted by Dr. Bumey, that " both singing-men 
 and singing-women were appointed to perform distinct 
 parts of religious rites among the ancient Hebrews as 
 well as Christians ;" and he adds, that " it does not 
 appear by any passages in the Bible, by anything which 
 the most ancient and learned commentators have urged 
 concerning the performance of the psalms, or by Rab- 
 binical traditions, that they were all originally intended 
 to be sung by the multitude, or whole congregation, 
 indiscriminately." We may leave out of view the ques- 
 tion as to the practice of the ancient Hebrews, for the
 
 METRICAL PSALMODY. 53 
 
 Jewish ritual was entirely abolished by the introduction 
 of Christianity ; but the assertion, in so far as it relates 
 to the primitive Christians, is entirely incorrect. When 
 the Divine Founder of our religion himself instituted 
 the sacrament of the supper, and gave to his disciples 
 the example of the manner in which it has ever since 
 been observed in all Christian churches, the solemnity 
 was concluded by their singing a hymn or psalm. "When 
 Paul and Silas were in prison, " at midnight they prayed 
 and sang praises unto God." St. Paul enjoins to the 
 church of the Colossians the use of " psalms, and hymns, 
 and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to 
 the Lord." A similar injunction is given by him to the 
 Ephesians : and James says, " Is any among you afflicted? 
 let him pray. Is any merry ? let him sing psalms." That 
 the primitive Christians must necessarily have followed 
 both the precepts and the example of Christ himself, 
 and of his apostles, cannot be doubted ; and accordingly 
 we have the evidence of profane writers to this effect. 
 Pliny accused the Christians, not only of neglecting the 
 sacrifices, but of holding meetings before day-break, to 
 sing in honour of Christ as a God ; and Lucian notices 
 the rage for psalm-singing among the Christians. lu 
 thosetimes, when Christianity was not established, or even 
 tolerated, and when the converts to this religion had no 
 churches or regular places of worship, it is absurd to 
 suppose that their psalms and hymns were sung by 
 organized bands oisimjing-men and singing -women, apart 
 from the congregation ; and Bumey, in another part of 
 his work,* makes admissions utterly inconsistent with 
 
 • Vol. iL, p. 5-6.
 
 64 METRICAL PSALMODY. 
 
 such a supposition. He says that " It is in vain to seek 
 for any regular ritual before this period," that is, the 
 time of Constantine, the first Christian emperor ; and 
 that he " cannot find better authority for the establish- 
 ment of music in the church, durino- the reifm of 
 Constantine, than that of Eusebius, who was his con- 
 temporary, and a principal agent in the ecclesiastical 
 transactions of the times." And he adds, " It was in 
 the year 312 from the coming of our Saviour, that 
 Christianity, after the defeat of Maxentius, became the 
 established religion of the Roman empire. The primitive 
 Christians previous to this important era, being subject 
 to persecution, proscription, and martyrdom, must fre- 
 quently have been reduced to silent prayer in dens and 
 caves." Previous to this era, however, and even down 
 from the time of our Saviour himself and his apostles, 
 the first Christians are proved to have sung psalms and 
 hymns in their exercises of devotion ; but, without 
 churches, without a ritual, subject to persecution, pro- 
 scription and martyrdom, meeting in secrecy and ap- 
 prehension of discovery, are we to imagine that they 
 sat and listened to disciplined choirs of singing-men and 
 singing- women ? 
 
 The argument that, because music is an art, and 
 requires study, practice, and experience, as well as a 
 mechanical trade or calling, every member of a congre- 
 gation ought no more to pretend to sing than to make 
 a pair of shoes, is a very shallow fallacy. Music is an 
 art, undoubtedly ; but its different branches require 
 very different degrees of study, practice, and experience. 
 A shepherd tending his flock, and a village maiden at her
 
 METRICAL PSALMODY. 55 
 
 rural labour, will sing " tlie old and antique songs " of 
 their native valley, in a manner that will charm the 
 most cultivated taste, and even move the feelings, 
 
 More than light airs, and recollected terms 
 Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times ; — 
 
 such songs as that which is described by the enamoured 
 Duke Orsino ; — 
 
 Mark it, Cesario ; it is old and plain : 
 
 The spinsters and the knitters in the stm, 
 
 And the free maids that weave their thread with bones. 
 
 Do use to chant iL 
 
 But if it requires little art and study to sing these 
 ancient and simple airs, to sing the melodies of the 
 psalms requires still less. In those parts of the country 
 where attention is paid to parochial psalmody, especially 
 in Scotland, the psalm tunes are familiar to every one ; 
 and when devoutly sung by the whole body of a con- 
 gregation, nothing can be more fallacious than the ludi- 
 crous light in which Dr. Bumey has attempted to place 
 them. They are, on the contrary, solemn, impressive, 
 and, in a large congregation, frequently sublime. When 
 Haydn heard a psalm sung in unison by four thousand 
 children, in St. Paul's Cathedral, he was moved to tears, 
 and declared that that simple and natural air had given 
 him the greatest pleasure he had ever received from 
 music. In every large congregation there must be 
 many coarse and untunable voices; but the greatest 
 part of the assembly will be qualified, in voice and ear, 
 to sing such plain and simple music with propriety ; 
 and in the present state of musical knowledge, there 
 are few congregations without many persons who can
 
 56 METRICAL PSALMODY. 
 
 sing at least a correct bass to the melody, especially if 
 the harmony is simply and steadily played upon an 
 organ, and sung by a small choir ; or (as in Scotland,) 
 sung by a small choir without an organ. 
 
 Dr. Bumey's arguments against the use of psalmody 
 are derived entirely from the abuses of it ; and, whatever 
 may have been the case in his time, his description of 
 these abuses is much exaggerated as applicable to the 
 psalmody of the present day. Still it may, and ought to 
 be, much improved. The parochial clergy ought every- 
 where to pay great attention to its cultivation. It ought 
 to form a regular branch of tuition in schools, by which 
 not only an end would be put to the " drawling and 
 bawling," (for Bumey's complaint of which there is still 
 some foundation,) but the people would be enabled to sing 
 the different parts of the harmony. Care ought to be 
 taken to introduce into every congregation some collec- 
 tion of the psalms of established character, in order 
 that the harmony may not only be good but uniform ; 
 for a bass taken from one collection, a tenor from 
 another, and a counter-tenor from a third, though good 
 in themselves, may produce nothing but discord, when 
 joined together. Strict attention ought also to be paid 
 to the time of these tunes. They are too often sung as 
 if they consisted entirely of equal notes, which are drawn 
 out to an immoderate length. But they have long and 
 short notes, accent, and rhythmical movement ; a dis- 
 regard to which affords the chief ground for Dr. Bur- 
 ney's charge against them. 
 
 The importance of a part of our musical service, in 
 which the whole congregation have it in their power to 
 raise their voices in songs of prayer and praise, is more
 
 METRICAL PSALMODY. 57 
 
 and more acknowledged. And the prevailing impres- 
 sion on this subject will naturally be followed by the 
 adoption of the means necessary to invest this portion of 
 our public worship with all the dignity and solemnity of 
 which it is capable.
 
 58 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 COMPOSERS OF ENGtISH SACRED MUSIC SINCE THE TIME OF PURCELL. 
 
 — CLARKE. AI.DRICH. — CROFT. WELDON. GREENE. TRA- 
 
 VERS. BOYCE. NARES. KENT. BATTISHILL. — ARNOLD. 
 
 WESLEY. CROTCH. ATTWOOD. HORSLEY. ADAMS. ENGLISH 
 
 CATHEDRAL MUSIC. 
 
 The choral music appropriated to the service of our 
 cathedrals is peculiarly English, and differs essentially 
 from the sacred music of every other country. It be- 
 longs to the school of composition founded by the great 
 harmonists of the sixteenth century; and the grave 
 and religious character impressed upon it by Gibbons, 
 Tallis, and Bird, has been preserved by the unbroken 
 series of distinguished musicians, who, down to our 
 own time, have devoted their talents to the service of 
 the church. Our music consecrated to religion retains 
 the grand and solemn harmony of the old masters; 
 and, if its melodies have, in the progress of time, 
 acquired additional grace and smoothness, they have 
 not lost the serious and chastened expression which 
 befits the language of devotion. It admits none of 
 those light and tripping measures, which in the words 
 of Pope, 
 
 Make the soul dance upon a jig to Heaven, 
 or rather, draw it down from those heavenly contem- 
 plations which religious music ought to inspire, and 
 fill it with the thoughts of worldly pursuits and trifling 
 amusements.
 
 CLARKE. 59 
 
 Some account has already been given of the most 
 distinguished composers for the English Church, 
 down to the latter part of the seventeenth century, 
 including the illustrious Purcell. It remains to notice 
 the most eminent of their successors. 
 
 Dr. Jeremiah Clarke was educated in the Chapel 
 Royal, under Dr. Blow; and was afterwards, along 
 with him, joint organist of the Chapel Royal. A 
 hopeless passion for a lady of rank much superior to 
 his own, threw him into a state of melancholy, which 
 terminated in suicide, in the year 1707*- Being thus 
 
 " The death of this "pathetic composer," as Bumey calls 
 him, was attended by some singular and melancholy circmn- 
 stances, which are thus related by that historian : — 
 
 " Early in life he was so unfortunate as to conceive a violent 
 and hopeless passion for a very beautiful lady, of a rank far 
 superior to his own ; and his sufferings, imder these circum- 
 stances, became at length so intolerable, that he resolved to ter- 
 minate them by suicide. The late Mr. Samuel Wiely, one of the 
 lay-vicars of St. Paul's, who was very intimate with him, related 
 the following extraordinary story, which he had from his unfor- 
 tunate friend himself : — ' Being at the house of a friend in the 
 country, he found himself so miserable, that he suddenly deter- 
 mined to return to London ; his friend, observing in his behaviour 
 great marks of dejection, furnished him with a horse and a ser- 
 vant to attend him- In his way to town, a fit of melancholy 
 and despair having seized him, he alighted, and giving the horse 
 to the servant, went into a field, in the comer of which there was 
 a pond surrounded with trees, which pointed out to his choice 
 two ways of getting rid of life ; but not being inchned to the 
 one more than the other, he left it to the determination of chance ; 
 and taking a piece of money out of his pocket, and tossing it in 
 the air, determined to abide by its decision. But the money 
 falling on its edge in the clay, seemed to prohibit both these 
 means of destruction. His mind was too much disordered to
 
 60 DR. HENRY ALDRICH. 
 
 cut off at an early period of life, his works were few ; 
 but liis anthems, which are printed in Boyce's collec- 
 tion, are remarkable for their tender and pathetic ex- 
 pression. His full anthem, "Praise the Lord, O 
 Jerusalem," is considered the best of his compositions. 
 
 The Rev. Dr. Henry Aldrich, though not a pro- 
 fessional musician, was profoundly skilled in the art, 
 and his compositions for the church, which are nume- 
 rous, are not inferior to those of the best masters of his 
 time. He was appointed Dean of Christ Church, 
 Oxford, in 1689, and died in 1710. He was a man of 
 great and varied attainments ; being not only an excel- 
 lent musician, but a learned divine, and an accomplished 
 scholar and critic. He devoted himself to the im- 
 provement and cultivation of music in the university 
 to which he belonged; " and," says Burney, " music 
 perhaps never flourished so much at Oxford, as under 
 his example, guidance, and patronage." 
 
 Dr. Aldrich composed nearly forty services and an- 
 thems, which are preserved in the third volume of Dr. 
 Tudway's collection. Besides these, he added to our 
 stock of cathedral music many admirable compositions, 
 by adapting English words from the Psalms and Liturgy 
 
 receive comfort or take advantage of this delay ; he therefore 
 mounted his horse and rode to London, determined to find some 
 other means of getting rid of life. And, in July, 1707, not 
 many weeks after his return, he shot himself in his own house 
 in St. Paul's Church-yard ; the late Mr. John Reading, organist 
 of St. Dunstan's church, a scholar of Dr. Blow and master of 
 Mr. Stanley, intimately acquainted with Clarke, happening to 
 go by the door at the instant the pistol went off, upon entering 
 the house, found his friend and fellow-student in the agonies of 
 death.'"
 
 DR. WILLIAM CROFT. 61 
 
 to motets of Tallis, Bird, Palestrina, Carissimi, and 
 other composers, which were originally set to Latin 
 words for the Romish service. He was much beloved 
 for his benevolent character, and cheerful and social 
 temper; and produced, for the amusement of his 
 friends, some lively rounds and catches, which are still 
 preserved. His round, "Hark, the bonny Christ- 
 church bells," is familiar to every body. He bequeathed 
 to his college his large collection of music, of which 
 Dr. Bumey says, " Having, in 1778 and 1779, made a 
 catalogue of these musical works, I can venture to say, 
 that for masses, motets, madrigals, and anthems of the 
 sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the collection is the 
 most complete of any that I have had an opportunity 
 of consulting." It is much to be regretted that nothing 
 has been done to give the public the benefit of these 
 musical treasures. 
 
 Dr. William Croft was born in 1677, and edu- 
 cated in the Chapel Royal, under Dr. Blow. In 1 707, 
 on the death of Jeremiah Clarke, he was appointed 
 joint-organist with Blow, on whose death, in 1708, he 
 became sole organist, and master of the children of the 
 Chapel Royal, and also organist of Westminster Abbey. 
 In 1715, he was created doctor of music in the uni- 
 versity of Oxford. In 1 724, he published, by subscrip- 
 tion, a splendid edition of his choral music, in two 
 volumes folio, under the title of Musica Sacra, or Select 
 Anthems, in score. The author says, in his preface, that 
 this work is the first specimen of music in score, 
 engraved on plates ; choral compositions having been 
 previously printed with types, in single parts, and full 
 of errors. He died in 1 727, in the fiftieth year of his
 
 62 DR. WILLIAM CROFT. 
 
 age, of a disease caused by Ms attendance at the coro- 
 nation of George the Second. 
 
 Dr. Croft's anthems are very grand and solemn; 
 their harmony is pure, and their melody elegant and 
 expressive. These qualities are peculiarly remarkable in 
 his three-part anthem, " Lord, thou hast searched me 
 out," which, from its length, is divided into two parts. 
 Every movement of this anthem is excellent ; and such 
 is its apparent simplicity, that the great skill of its 
 construction is not at first perceived. The opening 
 movement, for three voices, is graceful and flowing, but 
 without the slightest departure from the severity of the 
 church style ; and the solo which follows, in its breadth, 
 expression, and freedom from the stiff divisions which 
 too often encumber the best music of the period, is a 
 model of composition for a bass voice. Dr. Croft, in- 
 deed, is himself by no means free from this fault ; and, 
 even in this anthem, the tenor solo, which opens the 
 second part, and the verse for three voices, which fol- 
 lows, are deformed by such passages. The concluding 
 chorus, a fugue on two subjects, is as clear in effect as 
 masterly in contrivance. The full anthem, " O Lord, 
 rebuke me not," contains a fugue in six parts, and on 
 two subjects, which is in the true ecclesiastical style of 
 the old masters, and one of the noblest compositions of 
 which our church can boast. Dr. Croft completed the 
 burial service, of which Purcell composed only one 
 movement, " Thou knowest the secrets of our hearts," 
 which was performed at the funeral of Queen Mary, 
 and at his own. Croft followed the design of Purcell, 
 in writing it throughout in simple counterpoint of note 
 against note, so that every syllable is uttered simulta-
 
 DR. MAURICE GREENE. 63 
 
 neously by all the voices ; and the solemn simplicity of 
 this harmony is deeply impressive. The anthems, 
 " God is gone up," and " Put me not to rebuke," both 
 of which are in Boyce's collection, are among the best 
 of Croft's compositions. 
 
 John Weldon was a native of Chichester. In 
 I7O8 he succeeded Dr. Blow as one of his majesty's 
 organists; and he likewise became organist of St. 
 Bride's, and of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields. He died in 
 1736. Weldon composed many anthems, of which two 
 specimens (the best, it may be presumed,) are con- 
 tained in Dr. Boyce's collection. One of these, a full 
 anthem in six parts, " Hear my crying, God," is 
 excellent; but it has been remarked that his church 
 music in general, though pleasing and melodious, is 
 deficient in invention and depth of harmonical combi- 
 nation. Weldon composed some beautiful songs which 
 are still popular ; among them is the air, " Let ambi- 
 tion fire thy mind," which has been converted into 
 " Hope, thou nurse of young desire," the elegant duet 
 in the opera of Love in a Village. 
 
 Dr. Maurice Greene was educated in the choir of 
 St. Paul's, and early noticed as a good organist and 
 composer for the church. Before he was twenty years 
 of age, he obtained the place of organist of St. Dunstan's- 
 in -the- West ; and he afterwards obtained, in succession, 
 the situations of organist of St. Paul's, organist and com- 
 poser to the Chapel Royal, and master of his majesty's 
 band. In 1730, he obtained the degree of doctor of 
 music at Cambridge, and was appointed professor of 
 music in that university. In 1 750, he succeeded, through 
 the death of a relation, to a large property ; and, being
 
 64 DR. MAURICE GREENE. 
 
 now in a state of ease and affluence, formed the plan of 
 making a great collection of English cathedral music, in 
 order to prevent it from being lost or corrupted. He 
 accordingly collected a great number of manuscript 
 anthems and services, and had made considerable pro- 
 gress in preparing them for publication, when he was 
 prevented, by the failure of his health, from prosecuting 
 his design. He transferred it, therefore, to Dr. Boyce, 
 his friend and pupil, whose magnificent publication is a 
 completion of the design of Dr. Greene. He died in 
 the year ] 755 . 
 
 When Handel arrived in England, Greene courted his 
 society with great assiduity ; but a violent animosity 
 afterwards took place between them, which lasted during 
 Greene's life. In consequence of this, Greene took every 
 opportunity of decrying the works of Handel, and ex- 
 tolling those of his rivals, while Handel always expressed 
 aversion and contempt for Greene. " Handel," says 
 Burney, "was but too prone to treat inferior artists 
 with contempt. What provocation he had received 
 from Greene, after their first acquaintance, I know not ; 
 but for many years of his life, he never spoke of him 
 without some injurious epithet." " Greene's figure," 
 he adds, " was below the common size, and he had the 
 misfortune to be very much deformed ; yet his address 
 and exterior manners were those of a man of the world, 
 mild, attentive, and well-bred." 
 
 Greene deserves to be placed in the highest rank of 
 our musical writers for the church, notwithstanding the 
 disparaging terms in which Dr. Burney and other 
 critics, have spoken of his compositions. Burney's 
 praise is faint, while he dwells upon the faults of
 
 DR. MAURICE GREENE. 65 
 
 Greene's style — his divisions, repetitions of the same 
 passage, a note higher or a note lower, and shakes. 
 And Mr. Mason, in his Essay on Church Music, says 
 that Dr. Croft " was the first composer who gave into 
 the defect of long and intricate divisions, and unneces- 
 sary, if not improper, repetitions of parts of the 
 melody," and that Dr. Greene carried this fault to a 
 greater excess. It is difficult to imagine how Mr. 
 Mason could have stumbled on the assertion that Dr. 
 Croft was the Jirst composer who gave into the defect 
 of long and intricate divisions. The use of such 
 divisions was a prevailing fault before the times of 
 Croft and Greene ; and, in giving into it, which they 
 certainly did to some extent, these composers merely 
 conformed with the taste of the time. Neither of them 
 indulged in it to a greater degree than Handel did ; 
 and, as in his case, their best compositions, and those 
 which will live the longest, are nearly or wholly free 
 from it. From Bumey's observations on Greene's an- 
 thems, he appears not to have examined those on 
 which the composer's reputation chiefly rests. The 
 full anthem for four voices, " Lord, let me know mine 
 end," which Bumey never mentions, is not surpassed, 
 we believe, by anything in the whole range of cathe- 
 dral music. The opening movement is deeply pathetic ; 
 and, though a profound and masterly fugue on two 
 subjects, is as flowing and unconstrained as if written 
 in simple counterpoint. The verse which follows, for 
 two treble voices, " For man walketh in a vain shadow," 
 is of the purest melody, and contains several exquisite 
 touches of feeling ; and the concluding chorus, " And 
 now, O Lord, what is my hope," breathes the most 
 
 VOL. II. F
 
 66 DB. MAURICE GREENE. 
 
 earnest supplication. This beautiful anthem speaks a 
 language which time can neither obscure nor enfeeble. 
 Similar in merit, though opposite in character, is the 
 two-part anthem, " O give thanks;" which, too, is not 
 noticed by Bumey. It has the same truth of expression, 
 though its accents are those of joy, chastened by 
 devotion; and the divisions which are introduced in 
 one of the solos are not inconsistent with the character 
 of the movement. 
 
 Had Bumey's attention been directed to these, and 
 many other anthems which he appears to have over- 
 looked, he never could have said that, as to invention 
 and design, Dr. Greene seldom soars above mediocrity. 
 Even in his solo anthems, where the faults of his age 
 are most apparent, the melody is generally admirable, 
 frequently reminding us of the German and Italian 
 composers of a later period. In the two part anthem, 
 " O God of my righteousness," the treble solo, " I will 
 lay me down in peace," has all the tranquil sweetness, 
 and graceful smoothness of melody, with which Haydn 
 would have treated the subject. 
 
 Dr. Greene composed a good deal of secular music, 
 consisting of cantatas, songs, &c. His duet, "Busy, 
 curious, thirsty fly," and several of his songs, are still 
 kept in remembrance. 
 
 John Travebs is another composer who has not met 
 with justice from our great musical historian. About 
 the year 1 725, he became organist of St. Paul's, Co vent 
 Garden; and was afterwards appointed organist of the 
 Chapel Royal, which situation he held till his death, in 
 1758. Bumey, speaking of him as a composer for the 
 church, says that " his compositions, however pure the
 
 JOHN TRATERS. — DR. WILLIAM BOYCE. 67 
 
 harmony, can only be ranked with pieces of mechanism, 
 which labour alone may produce without the assistance 
 of genius." Notwithstanding this severe sentence, 
 several of his anthems are still used in our service, and 
 deserve to be so. His two-part anthem, "Ascribe unto 
 the Lord," though the solo parts are too much loaded 
 with divisions, contains melody that is both beautiful 
 and expressive ; and the harmony of the final chorus, 
 while it is not deficient in fulness, is simple and natural, 
 and free from that mechanical elaboration which Bumey 
 ascribes to the music of this composer. The canzonets 
 of Travers, for one and two voices, were long extremely 
 popular ; and one of them " Haste, my Nanette," is 
 still a favourite, both among professional singers and 
 amateurs. 
 
 Dr. "William Boyce, one of the greatest of English 
 musicians, was bom in London in 1710. When a boy 
 he was a chorister of St Paul's, and afterwards became 
 a pupil of Dr. Greene, then organist of that cathedral. 
 In 1736, on the death of Mr. Weldon, he was appointed 
 one of the composers to the Chapels Royal. In 1749, 
 at the installation of the duke of Newcastle, as chan- 
 cellor of the university of Cambridge, he set to music 
 the Installation Ode, written by Mr. Mason, and like- 
 wise an anthem ; and on this occasion he obtained the 
 honour of a doctor s degree. In 1755, on the death of 
 Dr. Greene, he was appointed master of his majesty'9 
 band; and, in 1758, he was chosen as one of the 
 organists of the Chapel Royal, in the room of Travers. 
 In his latter years he became afflicted with the gout, of 
 which he died, in 1779, leaving behind him not only 
 
 p 2
 
 68 DR. WILLIAM BOYCE. 
 
 an exalted reputation as a musician, but the character 
 of a most respectable and amiable man. 
 
 Dr. Boyce's cathedral music is of a very high order. 
 The finest of his anthems were published in 1780, by 
 his widow, under the title of "Fifteen Anthems, 
 together with a Te Deum and Jubilate, in score, com- 
 posed for the Royal Chapels." Another collection of 
 twelve anthems, with a short service, was published in 
 1790, also by the author's widow; and six of his 
 anthems, with a Te Deum and Jubilate, are published in 
 Dr. Arnold's collection of cathedral music. On an 
 examination of these works, it appears evident that 
 Dr. Boyce's style was formed by a profound study of 
 the greatest ecclesiastical composers, not only of Eng- 
 land, but of other countries, aided by a discriminating 
 judgment, and a strong original genius. His harmonies, 
 while they are full of ingenuity and learning, have the 
 breadth and massive grandeur which distinguishes the 
 choral works of Handel: his setting of the words is 
 always distinct and emphatic ; and his melody is pure 
 and flowing, yet appropriate to the subject, and free 
 from levity. Passages of divisions frequently occur in 
 his solos ; but divisions are not always to be censured. 
 On the contrary, though they are no longer employed, 
 as of old, without discrimination or meaning, yet they 
 continue to be used by the greatest masters, as legiti- 
 mate means of musical imitation and expression. It is 
 in this way that they are used by Boyce, in whose 
 anthems they sometimes speak the language of jubila- 
 tion and joyful thanksgiving, and sometimes imitate the 
 sounds or other phenomena of nature. Examples of
 
 DR. WILLIAM BOYCB W 
 
 the happy effect of divisions in expressing, by inarti- 
 culate sounds, the feelings of thankfulness and joy, 
 may be found in the solo anthem, "Praise the Lord, 
 ye servants," and in the anthem for two voices, "O 
 sing unto the Lord a new song;" and, in the solo 
 anthem, " The Lord is King," the raging of the sea is 
 finely represented by the rolling divisions sung by a 
 bass voice. Such passages as these, not being dictated 
 by the caprice of taste and fashion, but derived from 
 the natural principles of musical language, will never 
 cease to be intelligible. Among Dr. Boyce's cathedral 
 music, the anthems, " By the waters of Babylon," and 
 " Turn thee unto me, O Lord," are remarkable for their 
 pathetic expression. The full anthem for eight voices, 
 "0 give thanks unto the Lord," has probably never 
 been surpassed for the wonderful command of harmonica! 
 resources which it exhibits, and the grandeur of its 
 effect. The opening movement, for solo voices, in 
 eight real parts, after a few bars of simple counterpoint, 
 assumes the form of a canon in the unison on four 
 separate subjects, carried on with great freedom and 
 clearness, and terminated by a fugue, the subject of 
 which is strongly marked, and treated in a style of 
 masterly simplicity. The verse which follows, for four 
 voices, is remarkable for the graceful and flowing 
 melody of the different parts; and the Hallelujah 
 chorus, in eight parts, intermingled with solo passages, 
 which terminates the whole, is a stupendous effort of 
 genius. It is impossible to listen to music like this 
 without feeling, that even the language of inspiration 
 can be clothed with additional majesty by the sublime 
 strains of our ecclesiastical harmony.
 
 70 DR. WILLIAM BOYCE. 
 
 Besides enrichinfr the music of our church by his 
 own compositions, Dr. Boyce conferred on it a great 
 benefit by his invaluable collection of cathedral music, 
 which appeared in 1760, in three volumes. This work, 
 which had been undertaken by Greene, was completed 
 by Boyce. It is a selection of the best productions of 
 the English ecclesiastical composers during the two 
 preceding centuries, and is a monument, not only of the 
 editor's learning, research, and judgment, but of his 
 liberal spirit and zeal in the cause of his art ; for, in 
 undergoing the labour and incurring the hazard of this 
 great and expensive publication, he could not have been 
 actuated by any prospect of pecxmiary recompense. 
 
 Though the reputation of Dr. Boyce rests chiefly on 
 his sacred music, yet his secular compositions have 
 great merit. His serenata of Solomon, which was 
 published in 1743, was long popular, and some parts of 
 it are still frequently performed ; particularly the air, 
 " Softly rise, O southern breeze," remarkable for its 
 beautiful bassoon accompaniment; and the duet, 
 " Together let us range the fields ;" both of which are 
 heard with delight by those who retain their taste for 
 the pure and chaste English style of the last century. 
 He composed the music of an opera entitled The Chaplety 
 which kept its place on the stage for many years ; and 
 a number of songs, which were published in various 
 collections. These are now little known ; but some of 
 them, if revived, would be found elegant and agreeable 
 novelties. 
 
 Dr. James Nares was bom in 1715. He received 
 his earliest musical education in the Chapel Royal, and 
 afterwards studied under Dr. Pepusch. The place of
 
 DR. JAMES NABES. 71 
 
 organist in York Cathedral was his first preferment. 
 In 1756 he succeeded Dr. Greene in the situation of 
 organist and composer to his majesty ; and, about the 
 same time, received a doctor's degree in the imiversity 
 of Cambridge. He died in 1783, in his sixty-eighth 
 year. He was a man of great integrity of character, of 
 benevolent and cheerful disposition, and great attain- 
 ments in literature. His compositions for the church 
 consist of a collection of twenty anthems, published in 
 1778, and a morning and evening service, with six 
 anthems, published after his death. These works are 
 entitled to a high place among our cathedral music. 
 They are simple in their construction; the author 
 having, upon principle, avoided elaborate combinations 
 of harmony, and florid melody. " I have been very 
 sparing of divisions," he says, in the preface to the first 
 collection of his anthems, " thinking them too airy for 
 the church; and have rather endeavoured to enforce 
 the sentiment of the words, than to display the art of 
 musical composition." In this he has been successful : 
 his harmony being pure and full, and his melody 
 elegant and expressive. While, however, in adopting 
 this simple style, he properly followed the bent of his 
 own genius, and produced a series of anthems which 
 add to the variety of our cathedral music, by being 
 placed in contrast with more elaborate works, yet we 
 apprehend that the choral music of the church is that 
 which, above every other class, requires the utmost 
 resources of the art of musical composition ; and that 
 the profound harmonies, and learned combinations of 
 the ecclesiastical style, impart to it a grave and solemn 
 character which fita it for the offices of religion. It is
 
 72 DR. JAMES NARES. 
 
 its depth and elaboration which form the line of 
 demarcation between the music of our church and that 
 of the every-day world. Deprived of these qualities, 
 its harmony will become trite and common-place, and 
 it will save itself from insipidity only by borrowing 
 the melody of the theatre. By degrees, a verse of an 
 anthem will be set in the style of an opera air, or duet, 
 and the choral part will diJ0Fer in nothing but the words 
 from a theatrical finale. Such has been the manner in 
 which the music of the church has been ruined in Italy, 
 the country in which it once existed in all its greatness ; 
 and such, too, has been the manner in which it has 
 been corrupted in Germany. We are far from saying 
 that Dr. Nares' own productions are deficient in gravity ; 
 but, were the principles by which he professed to be 
 guided in their composition, and which are likewise 
 advocated by Mr. Mason*, to be generally adopted by 
 composers of cathedral music, its gradual degeneracy 
 would certainly ensue. 
 
 Dr. Nares composed a set of catches, canons, and 
 glees, dedicated to the earl of Momington, and a set of 
 beautiful English duets. 
 
 James Kent was born in 1700, and received his 
 musical education in the Chapel Royal, under the care 
 of Dr. Croft. After quitting the Chapel, he became 
 organist to Trinity College, Cambridge, and, in 1737, 
 was appointed organist of the Cathedral of Winchester, 
 the place of his birth, which situation he held till his 
 death, in 1776. In his cathedral music he followed 
 the style of Dr. Croft, though his compositions are less 
 
 * Essay on Church Mum.
 
 JAMES KENT. — BATTISHILL. 73 
 
 elaborate, and his melodies more free from divisions, 
 and of a more modem cast, than those of his master. 
 His anthems are in frequent use, particularly " Hear 
 my prayer," which is very beautiful and expressive. 
 His anthems, " Hearken unto this, man," " My song 
 shall be of mercy," " Lord, our Governor," and 
 several others, are also much esteemed. Kent not only 
 adopted the style of Dr. Croft, but even borrowed his 
 ideas, and avowed it, as if it were a matter of course. 
 He once said to a friend who was present at the re- 
 hearsal of one of his anthems, " I know your thoughts : 
 there is the same passage in Dr. Croft; but could I 
 have done better than copy him in that case?" This 
 ingenuousness was commendable; but, though quotation 
 is allowable in literature, where it can be always 
 avowed, it is quite inadmissible in music, where it can- 
 not be distinguished from plagiarism. 
 
 Jonathan Battishill, though chiefly known by his 
 secular music, was also an excellent composer for the 
 church. He was born in 1738, and educated in the 
 choir of St. Paul's Cathedral, and was organist succes- 
 sively of several churches in London. He died in 1801. 
 Four of his anthems are published in Page's Harmonia 
 Sacra. They are all excellent, particularly the full 
 anthem for seven voices, " Call to remembrance, O 
 Lord," which is a perfect model for this species of 
 composition. Nothing can be more clear and unem- 
 barrassed than the treatment of these numerous parts; 
 the melody of each voice is flowing and natural; and 
 the combined effect of the whole is admirable. The 
 middle movement, for three voices, " remember not
 
 74 DR. SAMUEL ARNOLD. 
 
 the sins of my youth," is full of that touching expres- 
 sion for which Battishill's music of every class is re- 
 markable. The glees and rounds of this composer are 
 well known to every lover of English vocal music. 
 His songs and ballads long preserved their popularity; 
 and it is to be regretted that such beautiful melodies as, 
 " When Damon languished at my feet," " Ye shep- 
 herds and nymphs," and " Kate of Aberdeen," should 
 ever be forgotten. 
 
 As a very eminent and popular composer, Dr. 
 Samuel Arnold demands notice in another place; but 
 he is also entitled to a high rank among our ecclesias- 
 tical musicians. In early life, he derived, from his 
 intercourse with Handel, a taste for sacred music; and 
 his oratorios. The Cure of tSaul, Abimelech, The Resur- 
 rection^ The Prodigal Son, and The Shunamite Woman, 
 are described by his biographer. Dr. Bumey, as being 
 worthy of the disciple of so great a master as Handel. 
 The oratorio of The Redemption was compiled by him 
 from the works of Handel; and it is through the 
 medium of this oratorio that several of Handel's finest 
 Italian opera songs, introduced into it with English 
 words, are still known to the public. On the death of 
 Dr. Nares, Dr. Arnold was chosen his successor, as 
 organist and composer to his majesty; and, while in 
 this situation, composed a number of services and 
 anthems for the use of the Chapel Royal, none of 
 which, though some of them are beautiful and masterly, 
 have been published. In connexion with his character 
 of an ecclesiastical musician, it is proper to mention his 
 edition of the works of Handel, and his collection of
 
 SAMUEL WESLEY. 75 
 
 cathedral music, fonning a continuation to that of 
 Boyce; two magnificent works, which are monuments 
 of his zeal, energy, and judgment. 
 
 Samuel Wesley, one of the greatest musicians of 
 whom England can boast, was not only possessed of 
 transcendant powers as an organist, but an eminent 
 ecclesiastical composer. He was, too, a most remarka- 
 ble instance of youthful precocity ripening into the 
 highest excellence. He was the son of Charles Wesley, 
 the brother of the celebrated John Wesley, the founder 
 of the Methodists, and was bom at Bristol on the 24th 
 of February, 1766.* He, and his brother Charles 
 (who also became a distinguished organist) both showed, 
 in infancy, their extraordinary musical genius, of which 
 an account has been published by the Honourable 
 Daiues Barrington. The following, among other parti- 
 culars, were communicated to Mr. Barrington by the 
 father of the boys. 
 
 Samuel Wesley's first impressions of harmony were 
 received from the music lessons given to his elder 
 brother Charles. "The first thing," says the father, 
 " which drew our attention was the great delight he 
 took in hearing his brother play; whenever Mr. Kel- 
 way came to teach him, Sam constantly attended, and 
 accompanied Charles on the cliair. He was so exces- 
 sively fond of Scarlatti, that if ever Charles began play- 
 ing his lesson before Sam was called, he would cry and 
 roar as if he had been beat. As his brother employed 
 the evenings in Handel's oratorios, Sam was always at 
 his elbow listening, and joining with his voice; nay, 
 
 • His birth-day was the same with that of Handel, who was 
 bom on the 24th of February, 1684.
 
 76 SAMUEL WESLEY. 
 
 he would sometimes presume to find fault witli his 
 playing, when we thought he could know nothing of 
 the matter. 
 
 " He was between four and five years old when he 
 got hold of the oratorio of ' Samson,' and by that alone 
 taught himself to read words: soon after he taught 
 himself to write. From this time he sprang up like a 
 mushroom, and when turned of five he could read per- 
 fectly well; and had all the airs, recitatives, and cho- 
 russes of ' Samson' and the ' Messiah,' both words and 
 notes, by heart. Whenever he heard his brother begin 
 to play, he would tell us whose music it was (whether 
 Handel, Corelli, Scarlatti, or any other) and at what 
 part of what lesson, sonata, or overture. 
 
 " Before he could write he composed much music. 
 His custom was to lay the words of an oratorio before 
 him, and sing them all over. Thus he set (extempore 
 for most part) ' Ruth,' ' Gideon,' ' Manasses,' and the 
 ' Death of Abel.* We observed, when he repeated the 
 same words, it was always to the same tunes. The 
 airs of ' Ruth' in particular, he made before he was six 
 years old, laid them up in his memory till he was 
 eight, and then wrote them down. I have seen him 
 open his Prayer book, and sing the ' Te Deum,' or an 
 anthem from some psalm, to his own music, accompa- 
 nying it with the harpsichord. This he often did, after 
 he had learned to play by note, which Mr. Williams, 
 a young organist of Bristol, taught him between six 
 and seven. 
 
 "How and when he learned counterpoint I can 
 hardly tell; but without being ever taught it, he soon 
 wrote in parts. He was full eight years old when Dr.
 
 SAMUEL WESLEY. 77 
 
 Boyce came to see us; and accosted me with, *Sir, I 
 hear you have got an English Mozart in your house; 
 young Linley tells me wonderful things of him.' I 
 called Sam, to answer for himself. He had by this 
 time scrawled down his oratorio of ' Ruth.' The Doctor 
 looked over it very carefully, and seemed highly pleased 
 with the performance. Some of his words were: 
 'These airs are some of the prettiest I have seen: this 
 boy writes by nature as true a bass as I can by rule 
 and study. There is no man in England has two such 
 sons,' &c. He bade us let him run on ad libitum^ 
 without any check of rules or masters. After this, 
 whenever the Doctor visited us, Sam ran to him with 
 his song, sonata, or anthem; and the Doctor examined 
 them with astonishing patience and delight. 
 
 " As soon as Sam had quite finished his oratorio he 
 sent it as a present to the Doctor, who immediately 
 honoured him with the following note : — 
 
 " To Mr. Samuel Wesley. Dr. Boyce's compliments 
 and thanks to his very ingenious brother composer, 
 Mr. S. W., and is very much pleased and obliged by 
 the possession of the oratorio of ' Ruth,' which he shall 
 preserve with the utmost care, as the most curious 
 product of his musical library." 
 
 The following are some of the particulars given by 
 M. Barrington from his own observation. The whole 
 account is highly interesting, and in many respects 
 very valuable. 
 
 " I first had an opportunity of being witness of 
 Master Samuel Wesley's great musical talents at the 
 latter end of 1775, when he was nearly ten years old. 
 
 " To speak of him first as a performer on the harpsi-
 
 78 SAMUEL WESLEY. 
 
 chord: he was then able to execute the most difficult 
 lessons for the instrument at sight, for his fingers 
 never wanted the guidance of the eye in the most rapid 
 and desultory passages. But he not only did ample 
 justice to the composition in neatness and precision, 
 but entered into its true taste, which may be easily 
 believed by the numbers who have heard him play 
 extemporary lessons in the style of most of the eminent 
 masters. He not only executed crabbed compositions 
 thus at sight, but was equally ready to transpose into 
 any keys, even a fourth, and if it was a sonata for two 
 trebles and a bass, the part of the first treble being set 
 before him, he would immediately add an extemporary 
 bass and second treble to it. Having happened to 
 mention this readiness in the boy to Bremner (the 
 printer of music in the Strand), he told me that he had 
 some lessons which were supposed to have been com- 
 posed for Queen Elizabeth; but which none of the 
 harpsichord masters could execute, and would conse- 
 quently gravel the young performer. I however de- 
 sired that he would let me carry one of these composi- 
 tions to him by way of trial, which I accordingly did, 
 when the boy immediately placed it upon his desk, and 
 was sitting down to play it; but I stopped him, by 
 mentioning the difficulties he would soon encounter, 
 and that therefore he must cast his eye over the music 
 before he made the attempt. Having done this very 
 rapidly (for he is a devourer of a score, and conceives 
 at once the eflfect of the different parts), he said that 
 Bremner was in the right, for that there were two or 
 three passages which he could not play at sight, as they 
 were so queer and awkward, but that he had no notion
 
 SAMUEL WESLEY. 7P 
 
 of not trying; and though he boggled at these parts of 
 the lesson he executed them cleanly at the second 
 practice. I then asked how he approved of the com- 
 position ? to which he answered, ' not at all, though he 
 might differ from a queen; and that attention had not 
 been paid to some of the established rules.' He then 
 pointed out the particular passages to which he ob- 
 jected, and I stated them to Bremner, who allowed 
 that the boy was right; but that some of the great 
 composers had occasionally taken the same liberties. 
 
 " The next time I saw Master Wesley, I mentioned 
 Brenmer's defence to what he had blamed; on which 
 he immediately answered, ' that when such excellent 
 rules were broken, the composer should take care that 
 these licences produced a good effect; whereas these 
 passages had a very bad one.' I need not dwell on the 
 great penetration, acuteness, and' judgment, of this 
 answer. Lord Momington, indeed, (who hath so deep 
 a knowledge of music) hath frequently told me, that 
 he always wished to consult Master Wesley upon any 
 difficulty in composition ; as he knew no one who gave 
 so immediate and satisfactory information. 
 
 " Though he was always willing to play the compo- 
 sitions of others, yet for the most part he amused him- 
 self with extemporary effusions of his own most 
 extraordinary musical inspiration, which unfortunately 
 were totally forgotten in a few minutes; whereas his 
 memory was most tenacious of what had been pub- 
 lished by others. His invention in varying passages 
 was inexhaustible; and I have myself heard him give 
 more than fifty variations on a known melody, all of 
 which were not only different from each other, bui
 
 80 SAMUEL WESLEY. 
 
 showed excellent taste and judgement. In his extem- 
 porary compositions he frequently hazarded bold and 
 uncommon modulations; so that I have seen that most 
 excellent musician Mr. Charles "Wesley (his elder 
 brother) tremble for him. Sam however always extri- 
 cated himself from the diflSculties in which he appeared 
 to be involved, in the most masterly manner, being 
 always possessed of that serene confidence which a 
 thorough knowledge inspires, though surrounded by 
 musical professors, who could not deem it arrogance. 
 
 " And here I will give a proof of the goodness of his 
 heart, and delicacy of his feelings: — I desired him to 
 compose an easy melody in the minor third, for an 
 experiment on little Crotch, and that he would go 
 with me to hear what that very extraordinary child 
 was capable of. Crotch was not in good humour, and 
 Master Wesley submitted, amongst other things, to 
 play upon a cracked violin, in order to please him; the 
 company, however, having found out who he was, 
 pressed him very much to play upon the organ, which 
 Sam constantly declined. As this was contrary to his 
 usual readiness in obliging any person who had curiosity 
 to hear him, I asked him afterwards what might be 
 the occasion of his refusal; when he told me, ' that he 
 thought it would look like wishing to shine at little 
 Crotch's expense.' 
 
 " Every one knows, that any material alteration in 
 the construction of an organ, which varies the position 
 of certain notes, must at first embarrass the player, 
 though a most expert one. I carried Sam, however, 
 to the Temple organ, which hath quarter notes, with 
 the management of which he was as ready as if he
 
 SAMUEL WESLEY. 81 
 
 had made use of such an instrument all his life. I 
 need scarcely say how much more difficult it must be to 
 play passages which must be executed, not by the 
 fingers, but the feet. Now the organ at the Savoy 
 hath a complete octave of pedals, with the half-notes; 
 on which part Sam appeared as little a novice as if he 
 had been accustomed to it for years. Nay, he made a 
 very good and regular shake on the pedals^ by way of 
 experiment, for he had too much taste and judgment 
 to suppose that it would have a good effect. 
 
 " He was able to sing at sight (which commonly 
 requires so much instruction with those even who are 
 of a musical disposition) from the time of first knowing 
 his notes; his voice was by no means strong, and it 
 cannot yet be pronounced how it may turn out; his 
 more favourite songs were those of Handel, composed 
 for a bass voice, as ' Honour and Arms,' &c. 
 
 " He hath lately practised much upon the violin, on 
 which he bids fair for being a most capital performer. 
 Happening one day to find him thus employed, I 
 asked him how long he had played that morning ; his 
 answer was, ' three or four hours ; which Giardini had 
 found necessary.' The delicacy of his ear is likewise 
 very remarkable, of which I shall give an instance or 
 two : — having been at Bach's concert, he was much 
 satisfied both with the compositions and performers; 
 but said, ' the musical pieces were ill arranged, as four 
 had been played successively which were all in the 
 same key.' He was desired to compose a march for 
 one of the regiments of guards ; which he did to the 
 approbation of all who ever heard it, and a distin- 
 guished officer of the royal navy declared, that it was 
 
 VOL. II. G
 
 ifiS &AJITJEL WESLEY. 
 
 & movement which would probably inspire steady and 
 serene courage, when the enemy was approaching. As 
 I thought the boy would like to hear this march per- 
 formed, I carried him to the parade at the proper time, 
 when it had the honour of beginning the military 
 concert. The piece being finished, I asked him whether 
 it was executed to his satisfaction ? to which he replied, 
 ' by no means ;' and I then immediately introduced him 
 to the band (which consisted of very tall and stout 
 musicians), that he might set them right. On this, 
 Sam immediately told them, ' that they had not done 
 justice to his composition.' To which they answered 
 the urchin with both astonishment and contempt, by 
 ' your composition !' Sam, however, replied with great 
 serenity, 'yes, my composition!' which I confirmed. 
 They then stared, and severally made their excuses, by 
 protesting, that they had copied accurately from the 
 manuscript which had been put into their hands. This 
 he most readily allowed to the hautbois and bassoons, 
 but said it was the French horns who were in fault ; 
 who making the same defence, he insisted upon the 
 original score being produced, and showing them their 
 mistake, ordered the march to be played again, which 
 they submitted to with as much deference as they 
 would have shown to Handel. This concert of wind 
 instruments begins on the parade at about five mi- 
 nutes after nine, and ends at five minutes after ten, 
 when the guards proceed to St. James's. I stayed with 
 him till this time ; and asked him what he thought 
 of the concluding movement, which he said deserved 
 commendation ; but that it was very injudicious to 
 make it the finishing piece, because as it must neces-
 
 SAMUEl WESLEY. 83 
 
 sarily continue till the clock of the Horse-guards had 
 struck ten, it should have been recollected that the tone 
 of the clock did not correspond with the key-note of the 
 march. 
 
 " I shall now attempt to give some account of this 
 most extraordinary boy considered as a composer, and 
 first of his extemporary flights. If left to himself when 
 he played on the organ, there were oftener traces of 
 Handel's style than any other master, and if on the 
 harpsichord, of Scarlatti ; at other times, however, his 
 voluntaries were original and singular. After he had 
 seen or heard a few pieces of any composer, he was 
 fully possessed of his peculiarities, which, if at all 
 striking, he could instantly imitate at the word of com- 
 mand, as well as the general flow and turn of the com- 
 position. Thus I have heard him frequently play 
 extemporary lessons, which, without prejudice to their 
 musical names, might have been supposed to have been 
 those of Abel, Vento, Schobert, and Bach. 
 
 " Having found that the greater part of those who 
 heard him would not believe but that his voluntaries 
 had been practised before, I always endeavoured that 
 some person present (and more particularly so if he was 
 a professor) should give him the subject upon which 
 he was to work, which always afibrded the convincing 
 and irrefragable proof, as he then composed upon the 
 idea suggested by others, to which ordeal it is believed 
 few musicians in Europe would submit. The more 
 difiicult the subject, (as if it was two or three bars of 
 the beginning of a fugue) the more cheerfully he under- 
 took it, as he always knew he was equal to the attempt, 
 be it never so arduous. 
 
 G2
 
 84 SAMUEL WESLEY. 
 
 " I can only refer to one printed proof of his abilities 
 as a composer, which is a set of eight lessons for the 
 harpsichord, and which appeared in 1777, about the 
 same time that he became so known to the musical 
 world that his portrait was engraved, which is a very 
 strong resemblance. Some of these lessons have pas- 
 sages which are rather too difficult for common per- 
 formers, and therefore they are not calculated for a 
 general vogue. His father, the Rev. Mr. Wesley, 
 will permit any one to see the score of his oratorio of 
 Ruth, which he really composed at six years of age, but 
 did not write till he was eight ; his quickness in thus 
 giving utterance to his musical ideas is amazingly 
 great; and, notwithstanding the rapidity, he seldom 
 makes a blot or a mistake. Numbers of other compo- 
 sitions, and almost of all kinds, may be likewise exa- 
 mined ; particularly an anthem to the following words, 
 which I selected for him, and which had been performed 
 at the Chapel Royal, and St. Paul's : ' 1. O Lord God 
 of Hosts, how long wilt thou be angry at the prayer of 
 thy people? 2. Turn thee again, O Lord, and we shall 
 be saved ! 3. For thou art a great God, and a great 
 King above all gods.' The first part of this anthem 
 composed for a single tenor ; the second a duet for two 
 boys ; and the third a chorus." 
 
 The expectations raised by these wonderful indica- 
 tions of early genius were fully realized. Wesley 
 became the greatest of English organists and the 
 greatest of English composers for his instrument. As 
 an extemporaneous performer he was unrivalled ; and 
 his numerous voluntaries and other compositions for 
 the organ place him on a level with the greatest mas-
 
 SAMUEL WESLEY. 85 
 
 ters of the German school. As may be supposed, he 
 venerated Sebastian Bach, and followed in his foot- 
 steps ; and he was the first among English musicians 
 who fully entered into the spirit, and appreciated the 
 greatness of that illustrious man. In a memoir of 
 Wesley which appeared at the time of his death*, his 
 biographer mentions a circumstance which ought to be 
 kept in view by those who may be misled by Dr. 
 Bumey's very erroneous estimate of the character of the 
 great German composer. " Wesley," says the writer, 
 " was thirty -five years old when he sat down to study 
 that master, a somewhat remarkable circumstance in a 
 person of his temperament and at that time of life. 
 After he had mastered the fugues, the difficulty was to 
 make people take to them, on account of the prejudice 
 raised against them by Dr. Burney, in his History and 
 Tour in Germany (vide vols. 3 and 4 of the former 
 work). Wesley thought his only plan was to go at 
 once to Burney and play them to him. When he 
 finished, Bumey said, 'I have been mistaken and 
 misled ; the copies I have are not like these.' And it 
 turned out that the manuscripts he had purchased in 
 Germany were so imperfectly copied that nothing 
 could be made of them. From that day Burney re- 
 tracted the opinion he had pronounced upon Bach." 
 
 Besides his organ music, Wesley composed many 
 anthems, motets, and other pieces in the ecclesiastical 
 style. But neither these, nor his instrumental works 
 have been sufficiently appreciated during his life-time. 
 Like his great predecessor Sebastian Bach, Wesley was 
 in advance of his age : the powers of the organ were 
 
 • Musical World, October, 1837.
 
 86 SAMtTEL WESLEY. 
 
 little known in England, and few were able to fathom 
 the depths of those compositions which are calculated 
 to develop those powers. His vocal music, too, from 
 the peculiarity of its style and structure, presents great 
 difficulties to the performer. " Although his organ 
 compositions," says the biographer already referred to, 
 "abound with learning and ingenuity, and overflow 
 with feeling and expression, still his great strength lies 
 in his choral works. It has been observed by Sir 
 George Smart that, in order to perform Bach's choral 
 works, one must first create the singers. The remark 
 is perfectly true, and applies with equal force to many 
 of Wesley's chorusses. It is the application of organ 
 phraseology to the voice, which marks the school, and 
 which requires long training before justice can be done 
 to these beautiful compositions. Nevertheless they can 
 be sirag ; those of Bach are performed ; and England 
 ought not to allow Germany the opportunity of boast- 
 ing that she first brought to light the great works of 
 England's best and brightest musician." 
 
 Wesley died on the 11th of October, 1837, in his 
 seventy-second year. With many excellent qualities, 
 he was imprudent and eccentric in his character and 
 habits ; and from this cause, joined to the decay of his 
 health, his great talents had long been in a great mea- 
 sure lost to the world. His son, Mr. Samuel Sebas- 
 tian Wesley, the eminent organist of Exeter cathedral, 
 inherits his father's genius, and resembles him in mu- 
 sical learning and attainments. 
 
 Dr. William Crotch, like Mozart and Wesley, is 
 an instance of precocious juvenile talent fully deve- 
 loped in after-life. This great musician was bom at
 
 DR. WILLIAM CROTCH. 87 
 
 Norwich in 1775 ; and, in his earliest infancy , displayed 
 such singular musical dispositions, that he attracted the 
 notice of Dr. Bumey, whose account of him, before he 
 was four years of age, published in the Philosophical 
 Transactions for 1779, excited the attention of the phi- 
 losophical as well as the musical world. An interest- 
 ing account of him, about the same period, is also given 
 by the Honourable^ Daines Barrington. When about 
 two years old, Crotch heard the tune of " God save tbs 
 King" played on his father's organ, and became so 
 restless and unruly, that his mother, imagining he 
 wanted to get at the organ, placed him at the keys, 
 which he immediately began to strike, and, after a 
 little while, made an evident approach towards the air. 
 Before he rose, he made himself master of the first part; 
 next day, with his brother's assistance, he played the 
 treble of the second part ; and on the third day, learned 
 to play the bass. Before he was four years of age, the 
 accuracy of his ear vras such, that he was able, not 
 only to name any note that was struck, but to tell in 
 what key a tune was played; and he was also able, 
 with perfect facility, to transpose the tunes which he 
 himself played into any key, even the most remote. 
 As he grew older, his musical attainments rapidly 
 increased, while, at the same time, he possessed a gene- 
 ral intelligence beyond his age. He discovered a genius 
 and inclination for drawing, almost as soon as for 
 music. Painting has continued to be his favourite 
 recreation, and he has acquired a proficiency in it of 
 which few amateurs can boast. 
 
 When he was eleven or twelve years of age he resided 
 at Cambridge, and did the duty of organist at several
 
 88 DR. WILLIAM CROTCH. 
 
 of the chapels. In 1788 he removed to Oxford, and 
 began his studies with a view to the church ; but he 
 afterwards resumed the musical profession, and was 
 appointed organist of Christ Church, in 1790. In 
 1797 he became professor of music in that university, 
 and, in 1799, obtained the degree of doctor of music. 
 On the establishment of the Royal Academy of Music, 
 in 1823, he was nominated Principal of that insti- 
 tution. 
 
 Dr. Crotch's great work is the oratorio of Palestine^ 
 the poetry of which is the beautiful prize poem of 
 Bishop Heber. In this oratorio, Dr. Crotch has dis- 
 played a grandeur and originality of conception worthy 
 of his most illustrious predecessors, and has united, in 
 the happiest manner, the depth and severity of the 
 old ecclesiastical masters, with the graceful and flowing 
 melody a,nd orchestral effects of the modern school. 
 The chorusses are noble and majestic ; the concluding 
 chorus, in particular, " Worthy is the Lamb," possesses 
 the simple and massive grandeur of Handel. The 
 quartet, " Lo, star-led chiefs," is not surpassed by any- 
 thing in the works of the greatest masters. Whether 
 considered with reference to the delicious melody of the 
 different parts, or the exquisite harmony produced by 
 their combination, this movement may be regarded as 
 a perfect composition. Several of the airs are exceed- 
 ingly beautiful and expressive. It is surprising, and 
 much to be regretted, that this work, which does so 
 much honour to the English school of music, is so 
 rarely performed. 
 
 Dr. Crotch is the author of several excellent an- 
 thems, and other pieces of sacred music. His motet,
 
 ATTWOOD. — HORSLEY. — ADAMS. 09 
 
 " Methinks I hear the full celestial choir," is generally 
 known. As a glee-writer, and a composer for the 
 organ, on which he is a great performer, his talents are 
 of a very high order. He has written some useful 
 elementary treatises ; but in works of this kind, we are 
 still much behind the Germans and French. 
 
 Several of our other living musicians have distin- 
 guished themselves by their compositions for the church. 
 Mr. Attwood, the present organist of St. Paul's 
 Cathedral, besides other works of this class, is the 
 author of two magnificent anthems, with full orchestral 
 accompaniments, written for, and performed on the 
 occasions of the coronation of George the Fourth and 
 his late majesty. Mr. Horsley, one of the most 
 eminent of our glee-writers, has also composed several 
 services and anthems of great merit ; and Mb. Adams, 
 a most masterly performer on the organ, has published 
 a number of voluntaries, in the grand and solemn style 
 which belongs to that instrument. 
 
 England is thus entitled to boast that her cathedral 
 music is superior to that of any other country, and that, 
 while the music of the church in Italy, and even Ger- 
 many, has degenerated, ours retains the solemn grandeur 
 of the olden time. Our services and anthems, too, are 
 more vocal than the masses and motets of the Romish 
 church; for, in these, the voices are very frequently 
 subordinate to the rich and powerful instrumental sym- 
 phony which accompanies them. Our cathedral music 
 is accompanied by the organ only ; a kind of accom- 
 paniment that is not liable to the changes which 
 orchestral music is constantly undergoing, and, from its 
 grave and solid style, is calculated to support and
 
 90 CATHEDRAL MUSIC. 
 
 enrich the vocal harmony without withdrawing the 
 attention from it. The more independent vocal music 
 is of instrumental accompaniment, the less it will be 
 subject to the mutability of taste and fashion ; and this 
 is one cause of the durability of our cathedral music. 
 Its choral harmony, too, is of surpassing grandeur, 
 when performed with sufl5cient vocal strength ; but, 
 unfortunately, this is seldom the case in our cathedrals 
 and churches. The body of vocal sound being too 
 feeble to fill the edifice, the organist endeavours to 
 supply the defect by the loudness of his playing. But 
 two and two do not always make four. By doubling 
 the quantity of vocal sound, the greatness of its efiect 
 may be doubled : not so when the added quantity of 
 sound is instrumental. This addition, indeed, frequently 
 subtracts from the efiect of the whole ; for the listener 
 is painfully employed in straining his ear to separate the 
 tones and words of the choristers from the mass of in- 
 strumental sounds in which they are smothered. The 
 choral establishments of the cathedrals are, at present, 
 inadequate to do justice to the grand and solemn music 
 which they have to perform.
 
 91 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 COMPOSERS FOR THB ENGLISH STAGE DURING THE EIGHTEENTH CEN- 
 TURY. — PEPUSCH. GALLIARD. CAREY LAMPE. DR. ARNE.— 
 
 MICHAEL ARNE. — LINLEY. — JACKSON. — ARNOLD. — DIBDIN. — 
 SHIELD. — STORAGE. 
 
 In taking a view of the composers for the theatre who 
 flourished in England during the last century, the first 
 who presents himself is Dr. John Christopher 
 Pepusch. 
 
 This eminent musician was bom at Berlin in 1667- 
 His father, a Protestant minister in that city, observing 
 his early propensity, gave him an excellent musical 
 education, by which he profited so much, that, at the 
 age of fourteen he had acquired considerable reputation 
 for learning and skill in the art. He came to England 
 about the year 1700, and resided in this country for the 
 remainder of his life. He was at first engaged at Drury- 
 lane theatre, and assisted in preparing for the stage the 
 operas that were performed there; parts of some of 
 which appear to have been composed by him. He 
 devoted himself, however, more to the study of the 
 ancient Greek writers on music, than to the practice of 
 the art ; and his inquiries, however unprofitable in other 
 respects, gained him the character of a profound musi- 
 cian, and the honour of a doctor s degree, conferred on 
 him by the university of Oxford, in 1713. In order to 
 prevent the music of the great masters of the preceding
 
 92 DR. JOHN C. PEPUSCH. 
 
 century from falling into oblivion, lie fonned a plan, in 
 whicli he was assisted by many of the principal dilettanti 
 of that period, for the establishment of an academy for 
 the performance of ancient vocal and instrumental 
 music ; an institution, which, under the name of The 
 Academy of Ancient Music, existed till the year 1792. 
 
 About the year 1724, Dr. Berkeley, afterwards bishop 
 of Cloyne, having formed a plan for erecting a college in 
 the Bermuda Islands, engaged Dr. Pepusch as one of the 
 members of the projected establishment. He and his 
 associates embarked for the place of their destination ; 
 but the ship was wrecked and the undertaking aban- 
 doned. After his return to England, he married the 
 celebrated singer, Margarita de I'Epine, who brought 
 him a fortune of ten thousand pounds ; but the pos- 
 session of affluence did not cause any relaxation in his 
 pursuits. He assisted Gay to select the national airs in 
 The Beggars Opera, to which he composed basses ; and 
 he wrote also an overture to the opera. This profligate 
 production is said to have been intended to ridicule the 
 Italian opera, which was then becoming very fashionable 
 in England; though, if this was its object, it certainly 
 was not accomplished, as there is not the slightest 
 resemblance, in any particular, between TJie Beggar's 
 Opera and the pieces of the Italian stage, either of that 
 or any other period. It had an unprecedented success, 
 owing partly, no doubt, to its simple and beautiful bal- 
 lads, but much more to its wit and licentiousness. Its 
 original popularity is not surprising, considering the 
 state of the theatre at that period ; but its still con- 
 tinuing to be performed, in defiance of public decency,
 
 GALLtARD. 93 
 
 says little for the boasted improvement in the morality 
 of the stage. 
 
 Dr. Pepusch was an able teacher of the science of 
 music, and was much employed in that capacity. 
 Among his pupils was the earl of Abercom, who is said 
 to have afterwards published anonymously a Treatise on 
 ffarmoni/, compiled from the written instructions given 
 him by his master. Dr. Pepusch complained of this, as 
 a breach of confidence; but it did not dissolve the 
 friendship between Lord Abercom and him, — a circum- 
 stance which makes it doubtful whether this surreptitious 
 publication was the act of that nobleman. The real 
 author afterwards published an edition of the work much 
 improved and enlarged. It was very valuable at that 
 period ; and some parts of it may still be perused with 
 advantage. 
 
 His principal compositions are twelve cantatas, in the 
 style of Alessandro Scarlatti, and the other Italian 
 writers of that school. These were very popular when 
 they appeared, but are now forgotten, with the exception 
 of Alexis, which is still performed with applause at our 
 concerts. 
 
 In 1737, Dr. Pepusch obtained the situation of organist 
 to the Charter-house, and spent the rest of his life in 
 the tranquil enjoyment of his favourite studies. He was 
 chosen a member of the Royal Society in 1746; an 
 honour to which his great learning justly entitled him. 
 He died in 1752, at the age of eighty-five. 
 
 John Ernest Galliard, a native of Zell, was a 
 favourite composer for the theatres in the beginning of 
 the last century. His music is now forgotten ; though
 
 94 CAREY. 
 
 his pretty hunting-song, " With early horn," has been 
 sung within our remembrance. 
 
 Henry Carey was a poet and a dramatist, as well as 
 a musician, though his musical attainments were limited 
 to a happy vein of melody which enabled him to pro- 
 duce airs, some of which are popular to this day. The 
 pretty ballad of " Sally in our alley " is his, both words 
 and music ; and it probably owes its natural simplicity 
 to the circumstance of its being founded on a real 
 incident. 
 
 A benefit of Carey's is announced in the Daily Post, of 
 December 3rd, 1730, in terms which give an amusing 
 idea of the manners of the time. After naming the play, 
 which was Greenwich Park, and the additional entertain- 
 ments of singing, particularly a dialogue of Purcell, by 
 Carey and Miss Rafter, (afterwards the celebrated Mrs. 
 Clive,) and a cantata of Carey's, by Miss Rafter, there is 
 an apology from Carey for " The tragedy of half an act " 
 not being performed ; but a promise is made of indem- 
 nification by the entertainments between the acts. Then 
 there is the following editorial paragraph : — " At our 
 friend Harry Careys benefit to-night, the powers of 
 music, poetry, and painting, assemble in his behalf, — ^he 
 being an admirer of the three sister arts : the body of 
 musicians meet in the Haymarket, whence they march 
 in great order, preceded by a magnificent moving organ, 
 in form of a pageant, accompanied by all the kinds of 
 musical instruments ever in use from Tubal Cain to the 
 present day ; a great multitude of booksellers, authors, 
 and painters, form themselves into a body at Temple- 
 bar, whence they march with great decency to Covent-
 
 LAMPE. 95 
 
 Garden, preceded by a little army of printers'-devils with 
 their proper instruments : here the two bodies of music 
 and poetry are joined by the brothers of the pencil ; 
 ■when, after taking some refreshment at the Bedford 
 Arms, they march in solemn procession to the theatre 
 amidst an innumerable crowd of spectators." 
 
 His mock " tragedy in half an act," the well-known 
 Chrmionkotonikologos^ was first performed at the Hay- 
 market theatre, in 1734. The lapse of a century has not 
 diminished the freshness of this admirable piece, which 
 is not inferior to Fielding's Jbm Thumh^ as a satire upon 
 the inflation and bombast of the tragic stage. In 1737, 
 the Dragon of Wantley^ written by Carey, and set by 
 Lampe, " after the Itahan manner," was produced at 
 Covent-Garden. This piece which is a happy burlesque 
 of the Italian opera, was as successful as the Beggars 
 Opera had been. The drama, which is irresistibly ludi- 
 crous, is still well known; but the music, notwith- 
 standing its excellence, is forgotten. 
 
 Carey committed suicide in 1743. He does not appear 
 to have been vicious or extravagant in his habits ; and 
 his dramatic pieces and songs, though full of humour, 
 are untainted with licentiousness. He was, however, 
 always indigent ; and embarrassed circumstances pro- 
 bably led to the melancholy termination of his life. 
 
 John Frederick Lampe, the composer of the 
 Dragon of Wantley^ was a native of Saxony. He came 
 to England about the year 1726, and was a popular 
 composer for the theatres. Another opera of his, also 
 written by Carey, called Amelia^ was produced in 1732, 
 with great success. He died in London in 1751. 
 
 Thomas Augustine Ajbne was the son of an
 
 yO DR. ARNE. 
 
 upholsterer, in King-street, Covent-Garden, who has 
 been immortalized by Addison, as the master of the 
 house in which the Indian kinofs resided during their 
 visit to London, so humorously described in Tlie Spec- 
 tator. Arne received a good education, and was in- 
 tended by his father for the law ; but his musical pro- 
 pensity showed itself at a very early age, and soon 
 entirely engrossed his mind. To gratify his passion for 
 music, he used to avail himself of the privilege of a 
 servant, by borrowing a livery, and going into the upper 
 gallery of the Opera-house, which was then appropriated 
 to domestics. He contrived to hide a spinet in his room, 
 upon which, after muffling the strings with a handker- 
 chief, he used to practise during the night. He was 
 articled for three years as a clerk to a lawyer; but 
 devoted much more of his attention to practising on the 
 spinet and violin, and studying composition, than to 
 reading law books and engrossing on parchment. He, 
 however, served out his time ; but soon afterwards, his 
 father happening to call at a gentleman s house in the 
 neighbourhood, who happened to have a musical party, 
 was shown into the room, where to his amazement, he 
 beheld his son in the act of playing the first fiddle. 
 Finding it vain to contend with an irresistible propensity, 
 his father yielded to it and allowed him to receive regular 
 musical instructions. 
 
 His first work was the music to Addison's Rosamond^ 
 which was produced in 1733, with very great success. 
 His sister, afterwards the celebrated Mrs. Gibber, per- 
 formed the principal character. He next composed 
 music for Fielding's Tom Thumh^ which he got trans- 
 formed into a burlesque opera, in the Italian manner.
 
 DR. ARNE. 97 
 
 In this, too, he was successful, the piece having been 
 performed many nights successively. 
 
 In 1738, Ame established his reputation as a dramatic 
 composer, by the manner in which he set Milton's Comus. 
 The music of this opera was found to be so light, graceful, 
 and original, that it was received with the utmost delight; 
 and even at the present day, the beautiful airs, " Sweet 
 Echo," "Come, ever smiling liberty," and " Now Phoebus 
 sinketh in the west," are heard with undiminished plea- 
 sure. The poetry of Comus ^ charming as it is in the closet, 
 is heavy on the stage ; and for this reason it is now rarely 
 performed. 
 
 In 1740, Ame married Miss Cecilia Young, a vocal 
 performer of considerable reputation, which continued 
 to increase after her marriage. He afterwards produced 
 his masques of Britannia and the Judgment of Paris, the 
 opera of Eliza, and the afterpiece of Tliomas and Sally. 
 In 1745, Mrs. Ame being engaged as principal singer at 
 Vauxhall, her husband began to compose for that place 
 of entertainment ; and his numerous songs, duets, and 
 other vocal pieces, sung at Vauxhall, spread over the 
 whole kingdom, and had great influence in forming the 
 public taste for vocal melody. 
 
 The two oratorios oiAbel and Judith, which Ame pro- 
 duced after this period, were not successful. His musical 
 conceptions were not sufiiciently great, nor his learning 
 sufficiently profound, for a species of composition in 
 which, too, he had to contend with the gigantic strength 
 of Handel. About this time he received the degree of 
 doctor of music from the university of Oxford. 
 
 In 1762, he produced the most celebrated of his works, 
 the opera of Artaxerxes. The words of this opera are a 
 VOL. II. n
 
 ¥o DR. ARNE. 
 
 close, but a bald and feeble translation, executed by 
 himself, of the -4 rfoserse of Metastasio ; and the music 
 is constructed in the Italian manner of that day, con- 
 sisting entirely of recitative, airs, and duets. The success 
 of this opera was complete. Its reception was enthu- 
 siastic ; and from that time almost to the present, it has 
 kept possession of the lyrical stage. 
 
 The popular opera oi Love in a Village, 'which consists 
 of airs selected from the works of Italian and English 
 composers, contains a number of songs by Ame ; and 
 he is understood to have arranged the music of this 
 piece, and prepared it for performance. 
 
 Dr. Ame's latest productions were the opera of the 
 Fairies ; the music to Mason's tragedies of Elfrida and 
 Caractacus ; additions to the music of Purcell in King 
 Arthur; songs of Shakspeare; and music for the 
 Stratford Jubilee. He died on the 5th of March, 1778, 
 and was hurried in the church of St. Paul, Covent 
 Garden. 
 
 Ame is undoubtedly one of the brightest stars in the 
 constellation of English musicians. Though he has been 
 surpassed by some of our composers in learning and 
 command of the resources of harmony, and though he 
 is below Purcell in vigour and impassioned expression, 
 yet he possessed a rich vein of pure melody, the native 
 produce of his mind, and not derived from his pre- 
 decessors or contemporaries, either English or foreign. 
 His melody, too, is suited to the accents of our language, 
 and the genius of our nation. It at once pleases every 
 English ear, and is grateful to every English heart ; and 
 hence a popularity more extensive and permanent than 
 has yet fallen to the lot of any English composer. Of
 
 DR. ARNE. 99 
 
 his works, the most beautiful, in our opinion, is Comus^ 
 in the production of which he followed only the dictates 
 of his own genius and feeling. Artaxerxes, indeed, has 
 been successful in an unparalleled degree, and, in many 
 respects, deserves the favour which it has so long en- 
 joyed. The composer's design was to introduce upon 
 the English stage the fashionable style of the Italian 
 opera ; and he therefore produced airs made up of the 
 Italian bravura passages of the day, in order to enable 
 the English singers, for whom he wrote, to contend with 
 their foreign rivals in feats of execution. While, how- 
 ever, the great songs in the piece are written in this 
 manner, there are others of a totally different character — 
 songs in which Arne, losing sight of his Italian models, 
 falls back into his own natural English style. Such are 
 the beautiful airs, " If o'er the cruel tyrant, " In infancy 
 ourl^hopes and fears," and " "Water parted from the sea." 
 The opening duet, "Fair Aurora," is a charming imitation 
 of the simpler Italian style of that period. The attempt 
 to apply Italian recitative to English dialogue was unsuc- 
 cessful. Italian speech can be made to take a musicalform 
 by merely enforcing and heightening the natural accents 
 and inflections of the language ; and thus the dialogue 
 of the Italian opera may be sung, or rather spoken, in 
 recitative : but in no other language is this practicable ; 
 and in English, German, and French, it is only where 
 the natural inflexions of the voice are supposed to be 
 strengthened by the influence of emotion or passion, 
 that recitative can be used with effect, or even without 
 absurdity. Hence, in the German opera, simple recitative 
 is very rarely used. The ordinary dialogue is merely 
 spoken, and it is only when the actor is supposed to 
 
 H 2
 
 100 DR. ARNE. 
 
 give vent to his feelings in broken phrases and pas- 
 sionate exclamations, that accompanied recitative is 
 employed. Though the recitative of Artaxerxes, ac- 
 cordingly, has passed current in consequence of the 
 popularity of 'the airs, no other English composer has 
 ever made the experiment, unless in the vs^ay of 
 burlesque." 
 
 Artaxerxes has been frequently chosen for the dehut 
 of young female singers, and the success of the debutante 
 has been attended with the run of the piece. The 
 part of Mandane was never so splendidly performed as 
 by Mrs. Billington, who charmed the public as much 
 by the sweetness and grace which she sang the beauti- 
 ful and simple airs, as she astonished them by the 
 power and compass of her voice, and the brilliancy of 
 her execution, in the bravuras. More recently it has 
 afforded triumphs to Miss Stephens, Miss Tree, and 
 Miss Paton; but it is now very rarely performed: land, 
 notwithstanding its great beauties, its defects as a 
 whole will probably prevent it from regaining its 
 popularity. 
 
 The drama is feeble and vapid. Metastasio's meagre 
 plot remains, but there is not a vestige of his sweet 
 and graceful poetry. The music is in an obsolete form, 
 long since abandoned as unfit for dramatic purposes: 
 and, though we, in England, may have greater con- 
 stancy in matters of taste than the more mercurial 
 people of the south, yet it is no disparagement to the 
 genius of our coimtryman, to expect that his production 
 shall at last go the way of the beautiful Avorks of the 
 Pgrgolesis, the Galuppis, and the Jomellis, upon the 
 model of which it was constructed.
 
 MICHAEL ARNE. 101 
 
 Notwithstanding the immense popularity which Dr. 
 Ame has so long enjoyed, it is remarkable that, even 
 in his own time, only two among all his numerous 
 pieces were decidedly successful. Many of them failed 
 entirely, not from want of merit in the music, but in 
 the words, of which he himself was too frequently the 
 author. But the best songs in all his pieces, and his 
 compositions for Vauxhall, &c., have diffused them- 
 selves so extensively, and are so rooted in public favour, 
 that their popularity will probably be lasting, even 
 should Comus and Artaxerxes disappear from the stage. 
 It will be long before the beautiful airs which we have 
 already mentioned; — the songs, " Gentle youth," and 
 " Ah, had I been by fate decreed," in Love in a Village; 
 " Where the bee sucks," in the Tempest ; " Under the 
 green- wood tree," and " When daisies pied," in J.s you 
 Like it, — with many others, shall be forgotten by the 
 lovers of pure and genuine English melody. Though 
 not very profound, yet Ame was an able harmonist. 
 The scores of his operas are not behind the state of 
 orchestral composition in his day; and his instrumental 
 music (particularly his harpsichord lessons,) possesses 
 considerable merit. He is, too, the author of some 
 good glees and catches; for which species of composi- 
 tion he obtained several prizes from the Catch Club. 
 
 Dr. Arne's son, Michael Aene, gained considerable 
 reputation as a dramatic composer. His opera of 
 Ci/mon was long popular. He was a singular, and 
 perhaps, in the eighteenth century, a solitary instance 
 of infatuation on the subject of the philosopher's stone, 
 in the pursuit of which chimera he built a laboratory,
 
 102 THOMAS LINLEY. 
 
 and involved himself in much expense. -He opened his 
 eyes, however, in time to save himself from ruin. 
 
 Thomas Linley, as a dramatic composer, obtained a 
 popularity little inferior to that of Ame. He w^as bom 
 at Bath, where he received his musical education, and 
 resided during a considerable part of his life. For 
 many seasons he conducted the Bath concerts, of 
 which his daughter Eliza, afterwards Mrs. Sheridan, 
 and her sister Mary, afterwards Mrs. Tickell, were the 
 most distinguished ornaments. Both these ladies were 
 beautiful and accomplished; but the elder appears to 
 have united exquisite musical talents to. a beauty almost 
 angelic, and a mind possessed of every virtue. The 
 romantic history of her marriage with Mr. Sheridan is 
 very generally known. From her marriage in 1772, 
 till her death, twenty years afterwards, she was truly 
 her husband's guardian angel; and, had she been spared 
 to him, his character might probably have been saved 
 from degradation, and the close of his life from the 
 extremity of wretchedness.* 
 
 * The sketch of this lady's character, given by Moore in his 
 Life of Sheridan, is extremely beautiful. " There has seldom," 
 he says, " existed a finer combination of all those qualities that 
 attract both eye and heart, than this accomplished and lovely 
 » person exhibited. To judge by what we hear, it was impossible 
 to see her without admiration, or know her without love ; and a 
 late bishop used to say, that ' she seemed to liim the connecting 
 link between woman and angel.' The devotedness of affection, 
 too, with which she was regarded, not only by her own father and 
 sisters, but by all her husband's family, showed that her fascina- 
 tion was of that best kind, which, like charity, ' begins at home ;' 
 and that, while her beauty and music^ enchanted the world, she
 
 THOMAS LINLEY. 
 
 103 
 
 In the year 1775, Sheridan's opera of The Duenna was 
 produced at Covent Garden. The music of this piece 
 consists partly of original compositions by Mr. Linley, 
 and partly of adaptations by him of popular airs. 
 " The run of this opera," says Mr. Moore, " has, I 
 believe, no parallel in the annals of the drama. Sixty- 
 three nights was the career of Tlie Beggar's Opera; 
 but The Ditenna was acted no less than seventy-five 
 times during the season; the only intermissions being 
 a few days at Christmas, and the Fridays in every 
 
 had charms more mtrinsic and lasting for those who came nearer 
 to her. We have already seen with what pliant sympathy she 
 followed her husband through his various pursuits, — identifying 
 herself with the politician as warmly and readily as with the 
 author, and keeping Love still attendant on Genius, through all 
 his transformations. As the wife of the dramatist and manager, 
 we find her calculating the receipts of the house, assisting in the 
 adaptation of her husband's opera, and reading over the plays 
 sent in by dramatic candidates. As the wife of the senator and 
 orator, we see her, with no less zeal, making extracts from state- 
 papers, and copying out ponderous pamphlets, — entering with all 
 her heart and soul into the details of elections, and even endea- 
 vouring to fathom the mysteries of the Funds. The affectionate 
 and sensible care with which she watched over not only her ,own 
 children, but those which her beloved sister, Mrs. Tickell, con- 
 fided to her in dying, gives the finish to this picture of domestic 
 usefulness. When it is recollected, too, that the person thus 
 homelily employed was gifted with every charm that could adorn 
 and delight society, it would be difficult, perhaps, to find any- 
 where one more perfect example of that happy mixture of utility 
 and ornament, in which all tliat is prized by the husband and 
 the lover combines, and which renders woman what the sacred 
 fire was to the Parsees, — not only an object of adoration ou 
 their altars, but a source of warmth and comfort to their 
 hearts."
 
 104 THOMAS LINLEY. 
 
 week; — the latter, on account of Leoni, who being a 
 Jew, could not act on those nights." It is still attrac- 
 tive, and more frequently performed than any opera of 
 so old a date. As a drama, it is superior to any musical 
 piece that we have; and the music is full of beauty, 
 spirit, and freshness. 
 
 About this time, Mr. Linley left Bath, and took up 
 his residence in London, in consequence of becoming 
 joint-patentee of Drury-lane theatre, along with his 
 son-in-law, Mr. Sheridan. He conducted for many 
 years the musical department of this theatre, and pro- 
 duced for it a number of pieces; the best and most 
 successful of which were. The Carnival of Venice; 
 Selima and Azor^ an adaptation of Gretry's Zemire et 
 Azov; The Camp, written by Sheridan; The Spanish 
 Maid; TJie Stranger at Home; and Love in the East. 
 None of these pieces are now performed; but some of 
 the songs which they contain are still sung, and 
 listened to with delight by the lovers of English music. 
 Mr. Linley also added those orchestral accompaniments 
 to the airs in The Beggar's Opera, which have been ever 
 since made use of. 
 
 In the year 1778, in the untimely death of his eldest 
 son, at the age of two-and-twenty, Mr. Linley received 
 a blow from which he never recovered. Thomas Linley 
 was a young man of great genius and attainments, and 
 had returned to his father from his travels on the Con- 
 tinent, where he had been the fellow- student and friend 
 of Mozart. "When on a visit to the duke of Ancaster, 
 at his seat in Lincolnshire, Linley, along with some 
 other young people, were amusing themselves with 
 sailing in a pleasure-boat, which by some accident
 
 THOMAS LINLEY. 105 
 
 upset, and Linley, who was an excellent swimmer, 
 perished through his desire to assist his companions, all 
 of whom were saved. The father's grief for this afflict- 
 ing bereavement produced a brain-fever, from which he 
 recovered, but never regained his former health and 
 spirits. Twelve ballads were published by him some 
 time after the death of his son; the first of which, " I 
 sing of the days that are gone," evidently refers to that 
 mournful event. They are purely English in style, 
 and very simple in construction, but full of originality 
 and feeling. His Sic Elegies, published at Bath, at an 
 earlier period, are distinguished by similar qualities. 
 
 Mr. Linley had another daughter, Maria, who was 
 preparing to appear in public, and promised to rival 
 her celebrated sister, when she was unfortunately cut 
 off in early youth. She died on the 5th of September 
 1784; and it has been said, on the authority of Dr. 
 Harrington of Bath, that immediately before she ex- 
 pired, she sang at the harpsichord, Handel's air, " I 
 know that my Redeemer liveth." In the Memoirs of 
 Mrs. F. Sheridan there is a most affecting account of 
 the last moments of this highly-gifted young woman, 
 from which it appears that the anecdote as generally 
 related, is not strictly correct. " She died of a fever," 
 says the author of that work, " and was attended by 
 Dr. Harrington, a gentleman no less celebrated for his 
 medical skill than for his musical abilities. A little 
 time previous to her death, when confined to her bed, 
 she raised herself up, and, with unexpected and mo- 
 mentary animation, sang a part of the anthem, ' I 
 know that my Redeemer liveth.' The female attendant 
 described the scene as the most affecting she had ever
 
 106 THOMAS LINLEY. 
 
 witnessed. The pathetic and almost super-humaa 
 sweetness of the notes breathed by the young and 
 lovely creature who was just departing from them, and 
 the awful hope inculcated in the words of the air she 
 had chosen, contributed to give an appearance of inspi- 
 ration to this last effort of a voice which had delighted 
 every ear. Dr. Harrington was greatly overcome by 
 the scene, and could only exclaim, 'She is an angel!* 
 as he left the room. Exhausted by the eflfbrt, she 
 sank into the arms of her attendant, and shortly after- 
 wards breathed her last." 
 
 Mr. Linley died in London, in 1795. Soon after his 
 death, a collection was published of his posthumous 
 works, and those of his son. It contains many admi- 
 rable songs, glees, and madrigals, which are less known 
 than they deserve to be. One of them, however, the 
 madrigal, " Let me, careless and unthoughtful lying," 
 by the elder Linley, is so beautiful, that it is frequently 
 sung at concerts, and the different glee and madrigal 
 societies. 
 
 Mr. Linley's younger son, "William Linley, went 
 at an early age to India, where he held several im- 
 portant situations under government. After his return 
 with a competent fortune, he resided in London, much 
 esteemed and respected, till his death, which took place 
 in 1834. He possessed the musical genius of hia 
 family, and published several works of merit, particu- 
 larly the Dramatic Songs of Shakspeare. His literary 
 attainments also were considerable. 
 
 William Jackson was bom in Exeter, in 1730. He 
 was liberally educated, and received his first musical 
 instructions from the organist of the cathedral. He
 
 WILLIAM JACKSON. 107 
 
 then went to London, and studied under Travers, the 
 organist of the Chapel Royal ; and finally returned to 
 his native city. In 1777? he was appointed organist, 
 and placed at the head of the musical establishment of 
 the cathedral, in which situation he remained till his 
 death in 1803. He was greatly respected, and his 
 memory is still cherished by many of his fellow-citizens. 
 
 Jackson published, at different periods, several sets 
 of songs, which were at one time popular throughout 
 the kingdom. Among his Canzonets for two Voices, are 
 several beautiful pieces, — particularly, " Time has not 
 thinned my flowing hair," and, " Love in thine eyes for 
 ever plays;" which will long afford pleasure to those 
 who can enjoy good music, though it may be old. He 
 composed the music of several dramatic pieces; one of 
 which. The Lord of the Manor, written by General 
 Burgoyne, was very popular. It contains the stiU- 
 favourlte songs, "Encompass'd in an angel's frame," 
 and, " When first this humble roof I knew." 
 
 In his capacity of director of a great ecclesiastical 
 establishment, he composed many pieces of cathedral 
 music, some of which, we believe, were published ; but 
 they did not add to his reputation. They are still per- 
 formed in the cathedral of Exeter, in consequence of 
 his connexion with it; but have not been adopted 
 elsewhere. 
 
 Mr. Jackson's literary acquirements were consider- 
 able. His thirty Letters on -various Subjects contain a 
 good deal of Ingenious and sound disquisition on mat- 
 ters of science, literature, and the arts. Of course, 
 music is not overlooked, and the faults of the greatest 
 masters are acutely exposed ; though he betrays a
 
 108 
 
 DR. SAMUEL ARNOLD. 
 
 tendency to depreciate the labours of composers in 
 those departments of the art in which he was probably 
 conscious of his own want of proficiency. lie was 
 passionately fond of painting, and a clever artist, in 
 the manner of Gainsborough. As a melodist, he pos- 
 sessed a style of his own, remarkable for tenderness, 
 simplicity, and pastoral sweetness. 
 
 Dr. Samuel Arnold, though he has been already 
 mentioned as a distinguished ecclesiastical composer, is 
 better known to the public as a writer for the theatre. 
 He was born in 1740. He received the rudiments of 
 his musical education in the Chapel Royal, under Mr. 
 Gates, the master of the children, and Dr. Nares, his 
 successor. So great were Arnold's attainments in 
 music, at an early age, that, before he had reached his 
 twenty-third year, he became composer to Co vent 
 Garden theatre; and in 1776, he was engaged by Mr. 
 Colman, to fill the same office at the Hayraarket. In 
 these situations, he produced a series of dramatic pieces, 
 several of which are still performed. In 1773, he ob- 
 tained the degree of doctor of music at Oxford. His 
 oratorio, The Prodigal >Son, had been performed at the 
 installation of Lord North as chancellor of the uni- 
 versity. Previous to conferring a degree, it is the cus- 
 tom for the professor of music to examine the exercise 
 given in by the candidate, as an evidence of his quali- 
 fications : but, on this occasion, Dr. Hayes, the musical 
 professor, returned Mr. Arnold's score unopened, say- 
 ing, that it was quite imnecessary to examine the exer- 
 cise of the author of The Prodigal Son. 
 
 In 1783, on the death of Dr. Nares, Dr. Arnold 
 succeeded him as organist of the Chapel Royal, and
 
 DR. SAMUEL ARNOLD. 109 
 
 composer to His Majesty. In 1789, he was chosen, 
 by the Academy of Ancient Music, the conductor of 
 their concerts. In 1793, on the death of Dr. Cooke, 
 he was requested to accept the place of organist of 
 Westminster Abbey. He declined the office, on ac- 
 count of his many professional engagements, but was 
 permitted to accept it on his own terms, and to per- 
 form the duty by a deputy, when he was unable to 
 give his personal attendance. He was afterwards 
 solicited to conduct the annual performances in St. 
 Paul's, for the benefit of the sons of the clergy ; a 
 request with which, as it was an affair of charity, and 
 unattended with emolument, he readily complied, and 
 conducted these performances till his death. He died 
 October, 1802, and was interred in "Westminster Abbey. 
 
 Dr. Arnold enriched the vocal music of England with 
 a great number of beautiful airs, which still retain, and 
 will long preserve, their freshness and popularity. His 
 best pieces keep their place on the stage ; and there is 
 reason to hope, will, with other works of the older 
 English school, be again performed more frequently 
 than they are at present. The Castle of Andalusia^ 
 The Mountaineers^ Inkle and Yarico, and The Surrender 
 of Calais^ are lively and pleasing dramas ; and the ad- 
 mirable songs, " The hardy sailor braves the ocean ;'* 
 "Flow, thou regal, purple stream;" "Faint and 
 wearily ;" " When the hollow drum," with many 
 others, will be listened to with delight, so long as the 
 people of England retain a taste for the pure and 
 genuine melody of their own country. 
 
 Charles Dibdin was bom at Southampton in 1745. 
 When a boy, he was a singer in the cathedral of Win-
 
 110 CHARLES DIBDIN. 
 
 Chester, and was afterwards a candidate for the situation 
 of organist in a village-church in Hampshire, but was 
 rejected on account of his youth. He then resolved to 
 try his fortune in London, where he was employed for 
 some time in composing ballads for music-sellers, and 
 in tuning piano-fortes. He next went upon the stage, 
 and had considerable success as an actor and singer, 
 even on the London boards : but the bent of his genius 
 was towards composition; and, having produced the 
 operas of Lionel and Clarissa, (the music of which is 
 partly his own, and partly selected,) and The Padlock, 
 he established his reputation as a dramatic composer. 
 These pieces appeared in 1768. He wrote for the stage 
 with great industry, for more than twenty years; 
 during which time, according to an account given by 
 himself, he produced near a hundred operas, and other 
 musical pieces, for the different theatres. He adds, 
 that for all these pieces, during so long a period, the 
 whole amount of his emoluments, including his salaries 
 for conducting the music of different theatres, and his 
 annual benefits, was only 5,500/. This very inadequate 
 remuneration he ascribes to the unfair dealing of the 
 managers, with all of whom, and especially Garrick, 
 he appears to have been engaged in constant quarrels. 
 Finding himself so ill rewarded for his theatrical 
 labours, he set on foot a series of entertainments, con- 
 sisting of recitations and songs, — written, composed, 
 delivered, and sung, by himself. For these entertain- 
 ments, he opened a small theatre in Leicester-square, 
 and gave them, not only there, but in all the principal 
 towns of the kingdom, for several years, with great 
 success. They were exceedingly agreeable, containing
 
 CHARLES DIBDIN. Ill 
 
 a great deal of wit, anecdote, and satire, and full of 
 songs, admirable both in their words and melodies. 
 These songs enjoyed extraordinary popularity, and 
 •were sold in immense quantities in every part of the 
 country ; so that this species of entertainment must 
 have been very profitable to him. He seems, however, 
 not to have been prudent in pecuniary matters ; for he 
 died in 1814, in distressed circumstances, after having 
 been for some years afflicted with a malady which ren- 
 dered him almost helpless. 
 
 Dibdin had received hardly any musical education ; 
 and his attainments in the art were so small, that he 
 had not skill enough to put a good accompaniment to 
 his own airs. But he possessed a gift which no edu- 
 cation or study can bestow, — an inexhaustible vein of 
 melody. Among the hundreds of airs which he com- 
 posed, it is wonderful to observe how few are bad, or 
 even indififerent ; and how free they are from sameness, 
 or the repetition of similar passages. And yet, with 
 all this variety, there is no straining after novelty. The 
 airs flow so naturally, that they appear to have cost 
 him no sort of effort, but to have sprung up, as it were, 
 in his mind, without even being sought for. In their 
 expression, too, they are not less various than in their 
 phrases. Whether the poetry is tender, lively, or ener- 
 getic, the music never fails to speak a corresponding 
 language. There are few things, in the class to which 
 they belong, more delightful than " When the lads in 
 the village," and " I'd lock'd up all my treasure," in 
 The Quaker ; or than "And did you not hear of a 
 jolly young watennan;" "Then farewell, my trim-
 
 1 12 CHARLES DIBDIN. 
 
 built wherry," in The Waterman ; or " Say, little 
 foolish, fluttering thing,'' in The Padlock. 
 
 But Dibdin's sea songs will be the most enduring 
 monument to his memory. Whatever may have been 
 clone by the bards of antiquity, there is no instance in 
 modem times of so powerful, extensive, and salutary 
 an influence being exercised by poetry and music. 
 They strike at once upon the heart of the British 
 sailor, — address themselves to his habits, his manners, 
 his propensities, his peculiarities of thought and feeling; 
 raise his courage from a mere animal instinct to a noble 
 moral principle : inspire him with generosity, truth, 
 and constancy ; and strengthen in his mind the influ- 
 ence of those tender ties which are the great springs 
 of human virtue as well as happiness. As a mark of 
 public gratitude for these inestimable lyrics, the govern- 
 ment, in 1803, bestowed on their author a pension of 
 two hundred pounds a year ; but the administration 
 which came into office in 1806 deprived him of this 
 very moderate tribute, as a measure of economy ! In 
 1810, some individuals, at the head of whom were 
 Benjamin Oakley, Esq., of Tavistock-square, and Mr. 
 Perry, the distinguished proprietor of The Morning 
 Chronicle^ set on foot a public dinner, in order to raise 
 money to purchase an annuity for Mr. Dibdin, The 
 sum obtained was '640/., with which an annuity was 
 bought for him and his daughter conjointly. 
 
 An edition of Dibdin's sea songs was published by 
 the late Dr. Kitchener, in 1824. This collection con- 
 tains a hundred and one songs, and is sufficiently ample ; 
 but the editor was incompetent to the execution of his
 
 WILLIAM SHIELD. 113 
 
 task. The music is full of inaccuracies ; and Dibdin's 
 accompaniments, meagre and imperfect as they are, are 
 rendered still more so by frequent mutilations. An 
 edition of these songs, by a sound and judicious 
 musician, is still much Avanted, and would assuredly be 
 well received by the public. 
 
 William Shield was born in the county of Durham, 
 about the year 1749. His father, who was a singing- 
 master, taught him the rudiments of music. When he 
 was nine years of age, his father died, leaving his 
 family very slenderly provided for. He was apprenticed 
 to a boat-builder in North Shields, who proved an 
 indulgent master, and allowed him to occupy his 
 leisure hours in cultivating his talent for music. His 
 proficiency as a violin-player attracted the notice of the 
 celebrated Avison, the author of the Essay on Musical 
 Expression^ who kindly gave him some instructions in 
 harmony. He was employed as leader of the concerts 
 at Scarborough, where he became acquainted with 
 several eminent performers from' London, by means of 
 whom he obtained a situation in the orchestra of the 
 Italian Opera-house, where, for eighteen years, he 
 played the principal tenor. 
 
 His first dramatic work was the music of The Flitch 
 of Bacon, an afterpiece, which appeared in 1778, and 
 was very successful. Soon afterwards he became com- 
 poser to Covent Garden theatre, for which he produced 
 several of his most popular works. In 1791, he visited 
 his native town, where his aged mother, to whom he 
 always showed the most filial attention, was still living. 
 He collected, at this time, a number of the old tradi- 
 tional melodies of the border counties, some pretty 
 
 VOL. II. I
 
 114 WILLIAM SHIELD. 
 
 specimens of •which he has inserted in his Eudiments of 
 Thorough Bass. In the same year he made a journey 
 to the Continent ; in the course of which he visited the 
 principal cities of Italy, with the view of acquiring a 
 knowledge of the music of that country. After his 
 return, he resumed his musical employments, and 
 composed a number of dramatic pieces, and many 
 detached songs, duets, glees, &c. He also published 
 his Introduction to Harmony, a work of much value at 
 that time, but now superseded by more methodical 
 and comprehensive treatises. 
 
 In I8I7, he succeeded Sir William Parsons as master 
 of the band of musicians in ordinary to the king. This 
 appointment was bestowed upon him by George the 
 Fourth (then prince regent,) without any application 
 on his part, as a mark of personal regard, and of 
 esteem for his character as a distinguished artist. 
 During the latter years of his life he suffered much 
 from the infirmities of age, and died of water in the 
 chest in Jamiary, 1829. 
 
 Shield was a man of an amiable, kind, and placid 
 disposition ; and the character of his mind is impressed 
 on his music. The subjects of his pieces are chiefly 
 taken from rural life, and he is most successful in 
 speaking the language of innocent gaiety and simple 
 tenderness. He probably never felt, and therefore has 
 not attempted to express, the more violent and darker 
 passions. Rosina is the most charming Arcadian 
 picture that can be imagined ; and The Woodman, The 
 Farmer, The Flitch of Bacon, and The Poor Soldier, 
 are all full of the freshness of the country. Shield's 
 pastoral style possesses much elegance and refinement ,
 
 WILLIAM SHIELD. 115 
 
 He even introduces airs requiring great extent of voice 
 and power of execution ; such as the song, " Whilst 
 with village maids I stray," in Rosina; yet there are 
 so much grace and simplicity of design in these airs, 
 that, when sung (as they ought to be) without effort, 
 they are never felt to be misplaced or out of character. 
 Shield's accompaniments in his dramatic pieces, though 
 simple, are ingenious, and show taste and delicacy in 
 the use of the different instruments. Were his orches- 
 tral colouring richer, it would be beautiful. Shield 
 composed many detached songs, and a few glees, some 
 of which are stiU popular. His " Shakspeare's Load- 
 stars" is a great favourite among glee-singers*. He 
 
 • This glee affords an amusing instance of the want of atten- 
 tion with which composers sometimes read their poetry. The 
 words are from The Midsummer NighVs Dream : — 
 
 O happy fair, 
 
 Your eyes are load-stars, and your tongue's sweet air. 
 
 More tunable than lark to shepherd's ear, 
 
 When wheat is green, and hawthorn buds appear. 
 Slueld writes the first part of this glee upon the first two lines, 
 with a full close. This is sung twice over; then comes the 
 second part of the glee to the two following lines, with a semi- 
 close; after which the subject is resumed, and the whole 
 terminates with the words of the first part, which are written as 
 before, — 
 
 O happy fair, 
 
 Your eyes are load-stars, and your tongue sweet air ! 
 
 To make three people, indeed, sing this pretty complaint of a 
 jealous damsel, and "toss the words about from side to side," is 
 bad enough, though this abuse is sanctioned (if it can be sanc- 
 tioned) by usage. But we do not remember any parallel to such 
 a reading as the above. 
 
 12
 
 116 STEPHEN STORAGE. 
 
 composed, too, some instrumental music ; particularly 
 a set of Trios for two violins and a lass, whicli have no 
 small merit, considering the state of instrumental music 
 in England when they were written. 
 
 Stephen Storage was the son of a Neapolitan, a 
 good performer on the double-bass in the band of the 
 Opera-house, and was born in London in 1763. He 
 manifested his musical capacity at a very early age, and 
 was placed by his father in the Conservatorio, or Music 
 School, of St. Onophrio, at Naples. He made rapid 
 progress in his studies ; and, while yet a pupil, com- 
 posed several things which he afterwards made use of 
 in his operas, particularly the finale to the first act of 
 The Pirates, one of the most beautiful of his composi- 
 tions. After finishing his studies, he visited Germany, 
 and composed an opera called Gli Equivoci, taken from 
 Shakspeare's Comedy of Errors. Parts of this piece 
 were afterwards used by the author in his English 
 operas. 
 
 In his travels, Storace was accompanied by his sister, 
 Anna Storace, who had been a pupil of Sacchini, and 
 afterwards became one of the first singers of the day. 
 They returned to England in 1787; and Signora 
 Storace immediately obtained an engagement at the 
 King's Theatre, where she appeared in Paesiello's Gli 
 Schiavi per Amore, brought out under the direction of 
 her brother. Storace's success in the King's Theatre 
 was impeded by the intrigues of his rivals ; and he 
 retired in disgust to Bath, where, for.a time, he turned 
 his attention to drawing. In this pursuit, however, he 
 did not persevere ; but soon returned to London, where 
 he obtained an engagement as composer to Drury-lane
 
 STEPHEN STORAGE. 117 
 
 theatre ; his first production for which was an adapta- 
 tion of the German opera of The Doctor and Apothecary. 
 
 In 1789? he brought out, at Drury-lane, his first 
 English opera, The Haunted Tower. This beautiful 
 piece had the most brilliant success : it was performed 
 fifty times the first season, and has remained in constant 
 favour ever since. In 1790 the entertainment of No 
 Song no Supper was produced at the same theatre. " It 
 will hardly be credited," says Kelly in his Reminiscences^ 
 " that this charming and popular opera, which has been 
 acted hundreds of nights, was rejected by the Drury- 
 lane management." 
 
 In 1791 he produced The Siege of Belgrade, which is 
 an adaptation to the English stage of Martini's opera, 
 La Cosa rara; consisting chiefly of the original music, 
 with some additional compositions by Storace. In 
 1792 appeared The Pirates, one of the finest and most 
 successful of his works. For several years he continued 
 to produce a number of popular pieces, among which 
 was Lodoiska, a piece translated from the French by 
 John Kemble, and the music of which is a selection 
 from the two operas of Kreutzer and Cherubini, with 
 some beautiful additions by Storace, among which is 
 the celebrated air, " Yc streams that round my prison 
 creep." 
 
 His last work was the music of Colman's drama, The 
 Iron Chest. His health was always delicate, and his 
 exertions in bringing out this piece appear to have cost 
 him his life. " On the first rehearsal," says Kelly, 
 " though labouring under a severe attack of gout and 
 fever, after having been confined to his bed for many 
 days, he insisted on being wrapped up in blankets, and
 
 118 STEPHEN STORAGE. 
 
 carried in a sedan-chair to the cold stage of the play- 
 house. The entreaties and prayers of his family were 
 of no avail, — go he would : he went, and remained till 
 the end of the rehearsal. He returned to his bed, 
 whence he never rose again." He died on the 19th of 
 March, 1795, in the thirty -third year of his age. 
 
 A little while before his death, Storace had gone to 
 Bath, for the purpose of hearing Braham, and had 
 engaged him for Drury-lane, where he was to appear 
 in the opera of Mahmoiid, in the preparation of which 
 Storace was then employed. It was left in an incom- 
 plete state at his death ; but, by the exertions of his 
 friends, and with some additional music selected by his 
 sister, it was performed, on the 30th of the same month 
 in which he died, for the benefit of his widow and 
 child. Supported by Kemble's acting, and Braham's 
 singing, it had great success, and was performed for 
 many nights. 
 
 Storace possessed a strong and capacious mind. Mr. 
 Sheridan once remarked, that, had he been bred to the 
 law, he must have become lord-chancellor. He was 
 well versed in literature, and his critical opinions were 
 much respected. Mr. Kelly says, that when a boy, his 
 passion for calculation was beyond all belief ; in which 
 respect, as in others, he had a resemblance to Mozart. 
 
 His operas, to this day, are among the most attractive 
 that we possess. He had been educated in the reformed 
 Italian school of the close of the last century ; and the 
 models on which he formed his style were the works of 
 Piccini, Sacchini, and Paesiello. From the study of 
 these, he not only acquired grace and refinement, but 
 learned to enrich his operas with those concerted scenes
 
 STEPHEN STORAGE. 119 
 
 and finales, the introduction of which was a new era in 
 dramatic composition. In the beauty and spirit of his 
 concerted pieces, he has not been surpassed by any 
 English composer who has succeeded him. In writing 
 for the orchestra, he has followed his Italian models in 
 the simplicity of his score ; but his accompaniments are 
 full of taste and elegance, and want nothing but a slight 
 infusion of German richness and variety, to be every- 
 thing that could be desired. Were Storace's best operas 
 retouched, with this view, by a skilful and discreet 
 musician, and brought out in a good and careful style, 
 they would appear as modem as if they were of 
 yesterday, and give all the pleasure they produced 
 forty years ago.
 
 120 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 MUSIC IN GERMANY IN THE PRESENT CENTURY. WINTER. 
 
 HIMMEL. — WEIGL. ANDREAS AND BERNARD ROMBERG. — FESCA. 
 
 BEETHOVEN. 
 
 Among the great composers of Germany who flourished 
 at the beginning of the present century, the oldest 
 appears to be Peter "Winter, who was bom at Man- 
 heim in 1755. In 1775 he was appointed director of 
 the orchestra of the theatre at Manheim, and after- 
 wards held the same situation at Munich, where he 
 resided during his life. His compositions for the 
 church, the theatre, and the chamber, are very numerous. 
 Of his ecclesiastical works, his Requiem is the most 
 celebrated. Many of his German operas were received 
 with the greatest favour, and several of them are still 
 performed in Germany. The operas which he com- 
 posed for the King's Theatre, during his residence in 
 London, in 1803 and 1804, were among the most 
 successful of his works. These were Zaira, Proserpina^ 
 and Calypso. In these, the airs, which he composed to 
 suit the limited but fine contralto voice of Madame 
 Grassini, are beautifully simple, and were long seen on 
 the piano-forte of every lady who had any pretensions 
 as a singer of Italian music. One of his German operas. 
 The Interrupted Sacrifice^ was brought out in an 
 English dress a few years ago, at the English Opera- 
 house, and obtained considerable success. His last 
 composition for the stage Avas a comic piece entitled
 
 HIMMEL. WEIGL. ' 121 
 
 Der Sanger und der Schneider (The Singer and the 
 Tailor), founded on a well-known anecdote of Fari- 
 nelli: it is a great favourite in the German theatres. 
 He died at Munich, in October, 1825, at the age of 
 seventy. 
 
 Frederick Himmel was bom in Brandenburgh, in 
 1765. At an early age he obtained the situation of 
 maestro di capella^ at Berlin, which he retained during 
 his life. He died in 1814. His works are very nu- 
 merous, and in various styles. His most celebrated 
 opera is Fanchon, which is still performed in all parts of 
 Germany. His m\tsic for the piano-forte is of a very 
 high class ; in particular, his two sets of trios for the 
 piano -forte, violin, and violoncello, are among the finest 
 compositions of this kind, and ought to stand in the 
 library of every amateur, beside the similar works of 
 Mozart, Beethoven, and Hummel. He produced an 
 immense number of detached songs and ballads, many 
 of which are very original and beautiful. 
 
 Joseph Weigl, bom at Vienna in 1 7()5, was director 
 of the orchestra of the imperial theatre in that city. In 
 his dramatic music, he is remarkable for the pastoral 
 freshness and simplicity of his style ; for which his 
 opera of the Swiss Family is particularly distinguished. 
 Few operas have enjoyed greater popularity in Germany 
 than this, which was produced at Vienna in 1809. It 
 is certainly very pleasing, and contains much elegant 
 melody ; but it wants vigour and depth, and soon palls 
 upon repetition. An early work of this composer, 
 L'Amor Marinaro, was brought out at the English 
 Opera-house, in 1828, under the title of The Pirate of 
 Genoa, with little success.
 
 122 ANDREAS AND BERNARD ROMBERG. 
 
 Andreas and Bernard Romberg were tlie children 
 of two brothers, both of whom were eminent musicians. 
 Anthony Romberg, the father of Andreas, was an excel- 
 lent performer on the bassoon, resident at Bonn ; and 
 Henry, the father of Bernard, was music-director to the 
 bishop of Munster. They brought up their children to 
 their own profession; and, in 1799, gave a concert at 
 Hamburgh, in which the whole performers were mem- 
 bers of their families. Andreas and Bernard soon dis- 
 tinguished themselves as performers, — the one on the 
 violin, and the other on the violoncello ; and both by 
 their genius for composition. About the year 1790 
 they held situations in the chapel of the elector of 
 Cologne, at Bonn, and afterwards obtained engagements 
 in the orchestra of the German theatre at Hamburgh. 
 After travelling over various parts of Europe, and ac- 
 quiring high reputation as performers on their respective 
 instruments, they returned to Hamburgh, where Andreas 
 settled; and Bernard afterwards obtained a situation 
 in the royal chapel at Berlin. Andreas died twelve or 
 thirteen years ago. Bernard, we believe, still resides 
 at Berlin. 
 
 Andreas Romberg is the author of many pieces 
 for the church, several operas which were favourably 
 received in Germany, and some cantatas, the most 
 remarkable of which is Schiller's Song of the Bell. 
 Bernard is also the author of several theatrical and 
 other vocal works. But both of them are chiefly dis- 
 tinguished as instrumental composers. The symphonies 
 of Andreas, in particular, are masterly productions, and 
 well known and frequently performed in this country ; 
 and Bernard has furnished the lovers of the violoncello
 
 FESCA. BEETHOVEN. 123 
 
 with a great variety of the most beautiful music that 
 has ever been written for that instrument. He has 
 long enjoyed the reputation of being (except, perhaps, 
 our own Lindley,) the greatest violoncellist in Europe. 
 
 Freidrich Ernst Fesca, maestro di capella to the 
 duke of Baden, was a voluminous and distinguished 
 composer both of vocal and instrumental music. He is 
 known in this country chiefly by his violin quartets, 
 many of which are admirable. He died in 1826. 
 
 The illustrious name of Ludwig van Beethoven 
 began to be heard in Germany a short time before the 
 beginning of the present century. He was born in 
 1770, at Bonn, where his father was a tenor singer in 
 the elector's chapel. He made great progress in music 
 at a very early age, notwithstanding his being attacked 
 by a disease which aficcted his hearing, and at last ter- 
 minated in total deafness. 
 
 Some of his vocal and instrumental pieces were pub- 
 lished at Manheim when he was only thirteen years of 
 age. In 1792, the elector of Cologne, whose attention 
 had been attracted to his youthful genius, sent him to 
 Vienna to study composition, which he did, first, for a 
 short time, under Haydn, and afterwards under the 
 celebrated teacher, Albrechtsberger. 
 
 His first publications were treated with great severity 
 by the German journalists, by whom he was accused 
 of harsh modulations, melodies more singular than 
 pleasing, and a constant straining after originality. It 
 is always the fate of genius, such as Beethoven's, to be 
 censured before it is understood. Those productions, so 
 roughly treated by the Aristarchs of the time, probably 
 contained crudities to which youthful inexperience is
 
 124 
 
 BEETHOVEN. 
 
 liable; but tlieymust have been much akin, in style and 
 character, to those compositions which follow them very 
 closely in point of date, and which form the commence- 
 ment of the regular series of his published works. Now 
 the very earliest of these, — his three trios for the piano- 
 forte, violin, and violoncello ; his sonatas, dedicated to 
 Haydn, and his first trio for a violin, tenor, and violon- 
 cello, — are at present looked upon as correct, clear, 
 and smooth compositions ; yet, within our remem- 
 brance, these pieces were considered, in England, as 
 wild, crabbed, and unintelligible. "When his symphony 
 in C minor was first tried by the band of the Philhar- 
 monic Society, an assemblage of musical ability not 
 surpassed in the world, they were so astounded at its 
 odd and abrupt outset, and so bewildered by the novelty 
 of its harmonies and transitions, that it was not till 
 after several repetitions, that its amazing grandeur and 
 beauty began to unfold themselves even to their en- 
 lightened vision. When Mozart's quartets, those models 
 of pure and delicate harmony, were originally published, 
 a number of copies, sent to Italy, Avcre returned on the 
 hands of the publishers, as being full of errors of 
 the engraver. The severity, therefore, with which 
 Beethoven's early compositions were treated by the 
 Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung, and other German 
 journals, is by no means surprising. 
 
 By the death of the elector of Cologne, in 1801, 
 Beethoven lost a zealous j^atron ; and this event seems 
 to have induced him to leave his native place and take 
 up his abode at Vienna, in which city he constantly 
 resided for the rest of his life. Being of an independent 
 spirit, and utterly incapable of practising the arts of a
 
 BEETHOVEN. ] 25 
 
 courtier, he never succeeded in gaining the favour of 
 the great, or in obtaining any of the solid advantages 
 with which that favour is attended. He was appointed 
 to no situation of emolument ; and, for the greater part 
 of his life, had nothing but the income derived from his 
 compositions. He strongly felt a treatment which was 
 unworthy of his genius, and frequently gave vent to his 
 feelings with more freedom than prudence. At length, 
 in 1809, he received an offer of the situation of maestro 
 di capella to the newly-formed court of Jerome Buona- 
 parte, king of Westphalia, and was about to accept of 
 it, when the archduke Rudolph, and the princes 
 Lobkowitz and Kinsky, ashamed of the neglect which 
 he had met with, and actuated by a liberality which 
 did them honour, settled on him an annuity of four 
 thousandflorins (four hundred pounds sterling), by a deed 
 drawn up in flattering and delicate terms. The only 
 condition was, that he should reside in Vienna, or some 
 other part of Austria Proper, and not travel into 
 foreign countries without the consent of his patrons. 
 He was thus placed in easy circumstances ; but, 
 imfortunately, owing to the death of prince Kinsky, 
 and the ruin of prince Lobkowitz, the greatest part of 
 his pension was discontinued; and all that he was 
 receiving at the time of his death, was seven hundred 
 and twenty florins, or seventy-two pounds a-year. 
 
 In the meantime, while a rapid succession of great 
 works was filling Europe with his fame, Beethoven Avas 
 withdrawing himself more and more from intercourse 
 with the world, and living in a state of seclusion, enjoy- 
 ing only the society of a few individuals, whose admi- 
 ration of his genius, and personal regard, led them to
 
 126 BEETHOVEN. 
 
 accommodate themselves to the peculiarities of his dis- 
 position. The aristocracy of Vienna appear at length 
 to have become aware of his claims to their respect. In 
 1824, a meeting of some patrons and amateurs of the 
 art took place, at which it was resolved to present an 
 address to him, requesting him to re-appear among 
 them, and permit some of his works to be performed 
 in his presence ; and also to agree to an application 
 which had been made to him by the direction of the 
 Royal Theatre, respecting the opera of Melitsina, on 
 which he was understood to be employed. 
 
 An address to this effect, with a number of noble and 
 distinguished names attached to it, was presented to 
 him ; and he agreed to be present at the proposed con- 
 cert. A great musical performance took place on the 
 7th of May, in the principal theatre of Vienna. The 
 theatre was crowded to excess ; and the appearance of 
 the illustrious recluse was hailed with the utmost en- 
 thusiasm. He took his place at the side of the prin- 
 cipal leader, and, with his original scores before him, 
 indicated the times of the various movements. The 
 music consisted of his well-known symphony in O 
 major; three hymns from the grand mass which he 
 had lately composed; and his symphony concluding 
 with a vocal chorus from Schiller's Ode to Joy, which 
 had been written by him for our Philharmonic Society, 
 and was now performed for the first time. These 
 pieces were rapturously applauded ; and, at the con- 
 clusion of the concert, Beethoven was loudly called 
 forward. He made a modest obeisance, and retired 
 amidst the acclamations of the audience. The strong 
 interest excited by this concert, induced the director
 
 BEETHOVEN. 127 
 
 of the theatre to make an offer to the composer of a 
 certain consideration, if he would assist at another per- 
 formance of the same music, which accordingly took 
 place soon afterwards. These were his last appearances 
 in public. 
 
 In December, 1826, in consequence of travelling from 
 the country to "Vienna, in very inclement weather, 
 Beethoven caught a cold, which was followed by an 
 inflammation of the lungs. This attack produced such 
 a degree of debility, that symptoms of dropsy ap- 
 peared ; and he laboured under this disease till the 
 26th of March, 1827, when he expired after dreadful 
 sufferings. 
 
 While on his death-bed, a circumstance occurred 
 strongly indicative of the veneration with which he 
 regarded Handel, Mr. Stumpff, of Great Portland- 
 street, a gentleman distinguished as an ardent and en- 
 lightened admirer of musical genius, who enjoyed 
 Beethoven's friendship, and had heard him express hia 
 devotion for Handel, and a desire to possess his works, 
 sent him a complete set of Arnold's edition of the 
 works of that composer, in forty volumes, taking care 
 that they should be delivered at Beethoven's house free 
 of expense. This valuable present arrived only a few 
 days before his death ; and the books were brought to 
 him and laid on his bed. His joy at its reception was 
 such as to make him forget his melancholy condition. 
 A gleam of animation lighted up his countenance : he 
 gazed on the volumes as they lay before him, and, 
 pointing to them with his hand, exclaimed, with great 
 feeling and emphasis, "Das ist das Wahre!"— "That 
 is the thing!"
 
 128 BEETHOVEN. 
 
 Some time before his death, he had reminded the 
 Philharmonic Society of London of a promise they had 
 made him, of giving a concert for his benefit. The 
 Society instantly sent him, through Mr. Moscheles, a 
 present of a hundred pounds; an act of generosity 
 which he acknowledged, in a letter to that gentleman, 
 in terms of the utmost gratitude. He requested, at 
 the same time, that the society would deduct that 
 amoimt from the profits of the concert they intended to 
 give ; and expressed his hope of being able to evince 
 his sense of their kindness by composing a new work 
 for their use. His sufferings from his disease appear 
 to have been aggravated by the dread of impending 
 destitution, which made him deny himself the ordinary 
 comforts of life. The arrival of the Philharmonic 
 Society's remittance, which he received only ten days 
 before his death, greatly revived his spirits. He said 
 cheerfully to his friends about him, " Now we may 
 again occasionally treat ourselves to a merry day;" — 
 and desired to have his favourite dish of fish (the only 
 article of food that he was fond of,) even were it only 
 that he might taste of it. Such being, apparently, his 
 own impression, and such being that of his friends 
 with regard to his poverty, much surprise was excited 
 by the discovery that he had died possessed of money 
 (including the present from the Philharmonic So- 
 ciety,) to the amount of about twelve hundred pounds 
 sterling. 
 
 Considerable indignation was expressed in Vienna, 
 that Beethoven, in such circumstances, should have 
 applied to a foreign country for assistance, of which, it 
 appeared, he did not stand in need ; and it was said,
 
 BEETHOVEN. 129 
 
 that had he required such aid, the slightest hint of his 
 necessities would at once have procured it from his 
 numerous friends and admirers at home. It is not 
 wonderful, however, that ho should have felt less 
 repugnance to ask assistance from a country in which 
 his genius had been long and justly appreciated, and 
 through the medium of a musical body who had, pro- 
 bably more than any other in Europe, contributed to 
 exalt his reputation by their splendid performance of 
 his works, than from the public of Vienna, whose 
 attention and patronage, withheld from him, had been 
 lavished upon artists immeasurably his inferiors in 
 everything but skill in the art of courting popular 
 favour. At the time of his death, beside the sura 
 above mentioned, which ho had saved, he enjoyed the 
 remnant of the pension settled on him by the Archduke 
 Rudolph, Prince Lobkowitz, and Count Kinsky. He 
 had thus wherewithal to live, according to his abste- 
 mious and retired habits; and when we consider his 
 high and independent spirit, we can only ascribe the 
 dread of want which appears to have imbittered his 
 latter days, and his application to the Philharmonic 
 Society, to the influence of disease in breaking down 
 his once powerful mind *. 
 
 " Some interesting correspondence relating to Beethoven's 
 death was published in the musical journals of the time. Beetho- 
 ven's letter to Moscheles, on receiving the Philharmonic Society'3 
 present, is as follows. It is dated 18th March. 
 
 " My dear, good Moscheles, — With what feelings I read your 
 letter of the 1st March I cannot find words to express. The 
 generosity with which the Philharmonic Society have almost 
 exceeded my request has moved me to the innermost of my soul. 
 .1 request you, therefore, my dear Moscheles, to be the organ by 
 
 VOL. II. K
 
 130 BEETHOVEN. 
 
 Beethoven's personal ctaracter and manners have 
 been represented in very different lights in the various 
 accounts which have been given of him. In Russell's 
 
 which I convey to the Philharmonic Society my heartfelt thanks 
 for their kind sympathy and distinguished liberality. With 
 regard to the concert which the Society intend to arrange for my 
 benefit, I trust they will not relinquish that noble design, and 
 beg that they will deduct the 100/., which they have already sent 
 me, from the profits. Should after that any surplus be left, and 
 the Society be kindly willing to bestow it upon me, I hope to 
 have it in my power to evince my gratitude by composing for 
 them either a new symphony, which already lies sketched on my 
 desk, or a new overture, or anything else that the Society may 
 prefer. Should heaven only be pleased to restore me soon again 
 to health, I will prove to the generous English how much I 
 value their sympathy in my melancholy fate. Your noble 
 conduct, my dear friend, will ever remain in my remembrance. 
 I hope shortly to return my thanks to Sir Gteorge Smart and 
 Mr. Stumpfi". FareweU !" 
 
 This letter was accompanied by one from Dr. Schindler, an 
 eminent musician of Vienna, who paid Beethoven the most 
 unwearied attention during his malady. Dr. Schindler gives a 
 most melancholy account of the state into which Beethoven fell 
 almost immediately after writing the above letter, of his still 
 firequent recurrence to the conduct of the Philharmonic Society, 
 and of his desire, when he occasionally woke from his lethargy, 
 to write to Sir George Smart, who had been greatly instrumental 
 in obtaining the 100/. for him, and also to his friend Mr. 
 Stumpff. Dr. Schindler laments the extreme caprice and irrita- 
 bility which increased upon him along with his disease. 
 
 In another letter to Mr. Moscheles, Dr. Schindler, after giving 
 an accoimt of Beethoven's death and funeral, says — " In taking 
 an inventory of what he had left, in furniture and other personid 
 property, there were found, to our great astonishment, among 
 some old papers, in an old decayed chest, seven Austrian bank- 
 bills, of the value of about 1000/. in English money, and some 
 hundred florins in paper-money. The 100/. which the Philhar- 
 monic Society of London had sent him were also foimd untouched.
 
 BEETHOVEN. ]31 
 
 Tour in Germany, published in 1824, an able and 
 interesting work, which has met with much attention 
 
 Now it is here the universal cry, and it has even been said in 
 the public papers, that Beethoven had not stood in need of 
 foreign assistance. But it is not considered that Beethoven 
 being only fifty-six years of age, and of a strong constitution, 
 might well hope to attain an advanced age. His illness, more- 
 over, had made him timid and nervous, and his physicians had 
 told him that he must not work for some years to come. It was, 
 therefore, natural for him to fear that he might be under the 
 necessity of selling one bank-bill after another ; and how long 
 could he subsist upon these seven bank-bills without getting into 
 distress ? In short, my dear friend, both myself and Counsellor 
 Von Breiming request you very earnestly, if this scandalous 
 talk should have spread to England, to publish, out of regard to 
 the memory of Beethoven, through the medium of some journal, 
 the letters which you have from him and myself on this subject, 
 in order to give the opinion of the English public a better 
 direction," Dr. Schindler adds a circumstance which must be 
 considered as showing the activity of the phrenologists. " Finally, 
 I have to communicate to you a very extraordinary occurrence. 
 Yesterday the sexton of Wahring [the parish where Beethoven 
 was buried] came to inform us that he had been offered a 
 thousand florins, in a note which he produced, if he would 
 deposit Beethoven's head in a certain place. The police is on 
 the alert, and actively engaged in the investigation of this 
 singular affair." 
 
 There is another letter from Herr Streicher of Vienna, an 
 intimate friend of Beethoven's, to Mr. Stumpff, written a few 
 days after Beethoven's death, containing some remarks on 
 Beethoven's application to England for assistance, and the 
 impression produced at Vienna by that step. " How generally,'* 
 says M. Streicher, " and how deeply this irreparable loss is felt 
 here I need not say ; yet I cannot pass unnoticed the fact, that 
 the whole public of Vienna, though long accustomed to Beetho- 
 ven's eccentricities, are not only surprised but painfully wounded 
 at the circumstance of his applying to England for support. 
 Was it excess of apprehension, produced by disease, that in the 
 
 K2
 
 132 BEETHOVEN. 
 
 from the public, we find the following description, 
 which, at all events, is lively and graphic. 
 
 end he should perhaps suffer from ■want ? or had he been ill- 
 advised by a hasty friend ? What else could have moved him 
 to take a step which places in the most unfavourable light not 
 only those in the midst of whom he lived for thirty-four years, 
 but also his friends, his second native place, nay even the whole 
 of Germany ? Beethoven himself, it would appear, subsequently 
 felt all this, for when I handed to him your enclosure, he care- 
 fully avoided to touch upon the subject of having requested 
 assistance from the Philharmonic Society through you ; and said, 
 ' They must think in London, that being by illness prevented 
 from composing I am in pecuniary embarrassments; I shall, 
 .however, accept (these are his own words) the thousand florins, 
 .and they may afterwards deduct that sum from the produce of 
 the concert that is arranging for me in London. If they will 
 send me the remainder, I shall write something for it as soon as 
 -I am again able to work.' 
 
 " Had Beethoven given the slightest hint of his distress to any 
 one of his numerous friends and admirers ; or had he addressed 
 himself to his patron, his Imperial Highness the Archduke 
 Rudolph ; or had he here in Vienna expressed the smallest 
 wish that a concert should be given for his benefit, not only 
 hundreds but thousands would have been ready to assist in the 
 accomplishment of his wish, and would have supported him to 
 the best of their power. Who could suppose that Beethoven, 
 while his delicacy would not let him accept the medical assist- 
 ance of the celebrated Dr. Staudenheimer, because the latter 
 declined every kind of remuneration, and while he refused every 
 attention offered to him by my father, so as to be hardly induced 
 to accept of even a few bottles of old wine ; — that Beethoven, I 
 say, would have indulged his eccentricity so far as to seek in 
 London for that pecimiary assistance which he did not in the 
 least stand in need of ? How hasty and unnecessary this appli- 
 cation was, is shown by what Beethoven left in personal property, 
 which consisted (as the public knew before) in bank-bills to the 
 amount of 10,000 florins, or 1000/. English. If we reckon, in 
 addition to this, three pensions from the Archduke Rudolph,
 
 3EETH0VEN. 133 
 
 " Though not an old man, Beethoven is lost to 
 society, in consequence of his extreme deafness. The 
 
 Prince Lobkowitz, and Count Kinsky, amounting in the whole 
 to about 720 florins, or ^2L English, you will easily judge that 
 Beethoven, with this sum, particularly in Vienna, might have 
 lived several years without standing m need of assistance." 
 
 All this is no justification of the Austrian public. Beethoven 
 had been neglected all his life ; and it was known to " his 
 numerous friends and admirers" that he was living in actual 
 penury, and denying himself the common comforts of life. Was 
 not this sufficient to induce the public, and his friends and 
 patrons, to come forward in his behalf, and testify their admira- 
 tion of his genius and character by munificent assistance, without 
 putting him to the necessity of " giving hints of his distress," or, 
 in other words, begging for charity ? It was not till after some 
 money was found in his repositories that the Viennese were so 
 much surprised and hurt at his having applied to the musicians 
 of London. And, after all, what was this mighty sum — this 
 fortune, accumulated by a man who stood at the very summit of 
 his art, through the exertions of a whole lifetime ? A thousand 
 pounds sterling ; and this not the surplus of a large income, 
 spent in a handsome establishment and good living, but the hard- 
 earned savings of a life of incessant and poorly-rewarded labour. 
 This thousand pounds, moreover, was a capital, the annual 
 revenue arising from which (and which could not exceed forty or 
 fifty pomids), Beethoven was in common prudence entitled only 
 to spend; and, adding to this the magnificent aggregate of his 
 pensions from three Austrian princes, his whole income could not 
 have been more than about 120/, sterling ; and this, too, at a 
 time when he had no prospect of being able to add to it by his 
 accustomed exertions. 
 
 When M. Streicher says that the public knew, before Beetho- 
 ven's death, that he possessed bank-bills to the amount of a 
 thousand pounds, he makes an assertion which is evidently 
 incorrect. 
 
 We believe, indeed, that nothing but the enfeebling influence 
 of protracted disease could have reduced the proud spirit of 
 Beethoven, even in these circumstances, and while he had
 
 134 BEETHOVEN. 
 
 neglect of his person which he exhibits, gives him a 
 somewhat wild appearance. His features are strong 
 and prominent ; his face is full of rude energy ; his 
 hair, which neither comb nor scissors seem to have 
 visited for years, over-shadows his broad brow in a 
 quantity and confusion to which only the snakes round 
 a Gorgon's head oflFer a parallel. His general behaviour 
 does not ill accord with the unpromising exterior. 
 Except when he is among his chosen friends, kindliness 
 or affability are not his characteristics. The total loss 
 of hearing has deprived him of all the pleasure which 
 society can give, and perhaps soured his temper. He 
 used to frequent a particular cellar, where he spent the 
 evening in a corner, beyond the reach of all the chatter- 
 ing and disputation of a public room, drinking wine 
 and beer, eating cheese and red herrings, and studying 
 the newspapers. One evening, a person took a seat 
 near him, whose countenance did not please him. He 
 looked hard at the stranger, and spat on the floor, as if 
 he had seen a toad ; then glanced at the newspaper, — . 
 then again at the intruder, and spat again; his hair 
 bristling gradually into more shaggy ferocity, till he 
 closed the alternation of spitting and staring, by fairly 
 exclaiming, 'What a scoundrelly phiz!' and rushing 
 out of the room. Even among his oldest friends, he 
 must be humoured like a wayward child. He has 
 always a small paper-book with him, and what con- 
 versation takes place is carried on in writing. In this 
 
 wherewithal to supply the wants of the passing day, to apply for 
 assistance from any quarter : but assuredly the people of Vienna 
 had no reason to be surprised or hurt that he should have applied 
 anywhere rather than to them.
 
 BEETHOVEN. 135 
 
 too, although it is not lined, he instantly jots down any 
 musical idea which strikes him. These notes would be 
 utterly unintelligible even to another musician, for they 
 have thus no comparative value ; he alone has in his 
 own mind the thread by which he brings out of this 
 labyrinth of dots and circles the richest and most 
 astounding harmonies. The moment he is seated at the 
 piano, he is evidently unconscious that there is any- 
 thing in existence but himself and his instrument ; and, 
 considering how very deaf he is, it seems impossible 
 that he should hear all he plays. Accordingly, when 
 playing very piano, he often does not bring out a single 
 note. He hears it himself in the " mind's ear." While 
 his eye, and the almost imperceptible motion of his 
 fingers, show that he is following out the strain through 
 all its dying gradations, the instrument is actually as 
 dumb as the musician is deaf. 
 
 " I have heard him play ; but to bring him so far 
 required some management ; so great is his horror at 
 being anything like exhibited. Had he been plainly 
 asked to do the company that favour, he would have 
 flatly refused ; he had to be cheated into it. Every 
 person left the room, except Beethoven and the master 
 of the house, one of his most intimate acquaintances. 
 These two carried on a conversation in the paper-book 
 about bank stock. The gentleman, as if by chance, 
 struck the keys of the piano beside which they were 
 sitting, gradually began to run over one of Beethoven's 
 own compositions, made a thousand errors, and speedily 
 blundered a passage so thoroughly, that the composer 
 condescended to stretch out his hand and put him right. 
 It was enough; the hand was on the piano : his com-
 
 136 BEETHOVEN. 
 
 panion immediately left him on some pretext, and joined 
 the rest of the company, who, in the next room, were 
 patiently waiting the issue of this tiresome conjuration. 
 Beethoven, left alone, seated himself at the piano. At 
 first he only struck now and then a few hurried and 
 interrupted notes, as if afraid of being detected in a 
 crime; but gradually he forgot everything else, and ran 
 on during half-an-hour in a fantasy, in a style extremely 
 varied, and marked by the most abrupt transitions. 
 The amateurs were enraptured ; to the uninitiated it was 
 more interesting to observe how the music of the man's 
 soul passed over his countenance. He seems to feel the 
 bold, the commanding, and the impetuous, more than 
 ■what is soothing or gentle. The muscles of the face 
 swell, and its veins start out ; the wild eye rolls doubly 
 w41d ; the mouth quivers ; — and Beethoven looks like a 
 wizard overpowered by the demons whom he himself 
 had called up." 
 
 Of the fidelity of this description, in so far as it is 
 derived from Mr. Russell's own observation, the cha- 
 racter of the writer leaves no room for doubt. But, in 
 speaking from hearsay, he was probably repeating the 
 idle gossip of Vienna, respecting a great man who was 
 talked of by everybody, but was personally known to 
 very few. Beethoven was extremely reserved in the 
 company of strangers ; abrupt and blunt in his address ; 
 and accustomed to express his feelings and opinions 
 with a freedom not very consistent with the established 
 usages of society. His manners and habits were those 
 of a recluse, excluded by a heavy calamity from cheerful 
 and social intercourse with the world, and wounded by 
 unmerited neglect. A key to many of his peculiarities
 
 BEETHOVEN. 137 
 
 is to be found in an interesting document which was 
 discovered among his papers after his death, — a will, 
 made by him during a dangerous illness in the year 
 1802, and addressed to his brother Carl, and his nephew 
 Liidwig Beethoven. His brother died some years before 
 him ; and his nephew, whom he supported and treated 
 with parental tenderness, was unworthy of his love, and 
 caused him nothing but care and grief. An extract 
 from this affecting paper will enable the reader to form 
 an estimate of Beethoven's real character, and to 
 imagine what he would have been in happier circum- 
 stances.* 
 
 " My mind was formed from my very cradle for the 
 gentler feelings of our nature, while it seemed destined 
 to accomplish something great. To this I always found 
 myself irresistibly impelled. But in my sixth year I 
 was unhappily attacked by a disease, which was rendered 
 still more afflicting by the blunders of the medical men 
 in whose hands I was placed. After dragging on year 
 after year in the hope of recovery, I was at last doomed 
 to the unhappy prospect of an irremediable evil ; no 
 cure, at least, even if it were possible, was to be expected 
 till after a long series of years. Though born with an 
 ardent and lively disposition, and a mind susceptible of 
 the pleasures of society, I was obliged to withdraw early 
 from a participation in them, and lead a solitary life. 
 Sometimes, indeed, I made. an effort to overcome every 
 obstacle thrown in the way of social enjoyment by the 
 defect in my organ of hearing ; but, oh, how painful was 
 
 • This document is printed in the Harmonicon, for January, 
 1828, translated from the original, in the possession of M. Schle- 
 singer, the eminent music-seller in Paris.
 
 138 BEETHOVEN. 
 
 it to find myself incapacitated, repelled, by my weakness, 
 ■which at these moments was doubly felt. How was 
 it possible for me to be continually saying, ' Speak 
 louder — raise your voice — I am deaf!' Alas, how 
 could I submit to the continual necessity of exposing 
 the failure of one of my faculties, which, but for mis- 
 management, I might have shared in common with the 
 rest of my fellow-creatures ; a faculty, too, which I once 
 possessed in a greater degree than most persons of my 
 own profession. When I would willingly have mixed 
 among you, my misfortune was felt with double keen- 
 ness, from the conviction it brought with it, that I must 
 forego the delights of social intercourse, the sweets of 
 conversation, the mutual overflowings of the heart. 
 From all this I was debarred, except as far as absolute 
 necessity demanded. When I ventured to appear in 
 society, I seemed to myself a kind of excommunicated 
 being. If circumstances compelled me to appear in the 
 presence of strangers, an indescribable agitation seized 
 me, — I was tortured by the fear of being rendered con- 
 spicuous only by my infirmity. 
 
 " In this state I remained a full half year, when a 
 blundering doctor persuaded me that the best thing I 
 could do to recover my hearing, was to go into the 
 country. Here, incited by my natural disposition, I was 
 induced to join in the society of my neighbours. But 
 how bitter was the mortification I suffered, when some 
 one near me would stand listening to the tones of a flute, 
 which I could not hear ; or to the shepherd's song, 
 sounding from the valley, not one note of which I could 
 distinguish ! Such occurrences had the effect of driving 
 me almost to despair ; nay, even raised in my mind
 
 BEETHOVEN. 139 
 
 gloomy thoughts of seeking relief in self-destruction. 
 It was nothing but my art that restrained me ; it ap- 
 peared impossible for me to quit the world till I had 
 accomplished the objects I felt myself, as it were, destined 
 to fulfil. Thus did I continue to drag on a miserable 
 existence ; truly miserable, inasmuch as, with so sensitive 
 a constitution of body, any sudden change was capable of 
 hurrying me into the most violent extremes. Yes, 
 Patience, I must take thee for my guide ; I hope to 
 follow thy dictates, and persevere to the end, till it shall 
 please the inexorable Fates to cut the thread of my 
 existence. Yes, be it for better or for worse, I am pre- 
 pared to meet the issue. For one in his twenty-eighth 
 year* to become a philosopher, is no easy task ; and 
 still more difficult is it for an artist than for any other 
 man. 
 
 Hi * «i * * if 
 
 " I hereby declare you the joint heirs of the little 
 property, if so it can be called, which I have been able 
 to lay up. Share it equally and justly ; live in harmony 
 together, and assist each other. Whatever you may 
 have done against me, be assured that it has long since 
 been forgiven. I thank you in particular, my dear 
 brother Carl, for the aftectionate attentions I have re- 
 ceived from you of late. It is my sincere hope and 
 wish that you may lead a life more free from cares and 
 sorrows than mine has been. Teach your children to 
 love Virtue ; she alone, and not perishable gold, can 
 make them truly happy. I speak it feelingly, and from 
 
 • There seems to be a mistake here, probably in the transcrip- 
 tion ; for Beethoven's biographers give 1770 aa the date of his 
 birth.
 
 140 BEETHOVEN. 
 
 experience ; it was her hand that upheld me in the midst 
 of the ills of life. To her influence, next to that of my 
 art, do I owe the blessing of not having terminated 
 my existence by suicide. Live morally, and love one 
 another." 
 
 Beethoven's character, as described by those who had 
 means of knowing it, was what might be expected from 
 these sentiments, so strikingly expressed by himself. 
 Persons who had any claims on his attentions never 
 failed to receive them. Wc ourselves know more than 
 one individual, who, though not musical, nor possessed 
 of any attainments calculated to render their society 
 peculiarly agreeable to him, but merely in consequence 
 of introductions from persons in England whom he 
 knew, were received by him with great courtesy, and 
 treated with anxious and persevering kindness. A pleas- 
 ing sketch of him, in this point of view, is contained in 
 a letter from an English lady, who gives an account of a 
 visit she paid him in October, 1825.* She was intro- 
 duced to him as the daughter of a person whom he 
 respected, and went to visit him at the village of Baden, 
 near Vienna, where he generally resided during a part 
 of the year. 
 
 " The people," she says, " seemed surprised at our 
 taking so much trouble ; for, unaccountable as it may 
 seem to those who have any knowledge of or taste in 
 music, his reign in Vienna is over, except in the hearts 
 of a chosen few ; and I was even taught to expect a 
 rough, unceremonious reception. When we arrived, he 
 had just returned home, through a shower of rain, and 
 was changing his coat. I almost began to be alarmed, 
 
 * Harmonicon, Dec. 1825.
 
 BEETHOVEN. 141 
 
 after all that I had heard of his brusquerie, lest he 
 should not receive us very cordially, when he came 
 fortli from his sanctum, with a hurried step, and appa- 
 rently very nervous ; but he addressed us in so gentle, 
 so courteous, so sweet a manner, and with such a truth 
 in his sweetness, that I only know Mr, * * * with 
 whom he can be compared. He is very short, ex- 
 tremely thin, and sufficiently attentive to personal 
 appearance. He observed that * * * was very fond of 
 Handel ; that he himself also loved him ; and proceeded 
 for some time in eulogizing that great composer. I con- 
 versed with him in writing, for I found it impossible to 
 render myself audible; and though this was a very 
 clumsy mode of communicating, it did not much 
 signify, as he talked on freely and willingly, and did 
 not wait for questions, or seem to expect long replies. 
 I ventured to express my admiration of his compo- 
 sitions, and, among others, praised his Adelaide, in 
 terms by no means too strong for my sense of its 
 beauties. He very modestly remarked that the poetry 
 was beautiful. 
 
 " When we were about to retire, he desired us to stop ; 
 '—'' Je veux rous donner un souvenir d^ moi.' He then 
 went to a table in an adjoining room, and wrote two 
 lines of music, — a little fugue for the piano-forte, — and 
 presented it to me in the most amiable manner. He 
 afterwards desired that I would spell my name to him, 
 that he might inscribe his impromptu to me correctly. 
 He now took ray arm, and led me into the room where 
 he had written, that I might see the whole of his apart- 
 ments, which were quite that of an author, but perfectly 
 clean ; and, though indicating nothing like superfluity
 
 142 BEETHOVEN. 
 
 of wealth, did not show any want of either useful fur- 
 niture or neatness in arrangement. It must be recol- 
 lected, however, that this is his country residence, and 
 that the Viennese are not so costly or particular in their 
 domestic details as we English. I led him back very 
 gently to a room on the other side, in which was placed 
 his grand piano-forte, presented to him by Messrs. 
 Broadwood; but he looked, I thought, melancholy at 
 the sight of it, and said that it was very much out of 
 order, for the country tuner was exceedingly bad. He 
 struck some notes to convince me ; nevertheless, I 
 placed on the desk the page of manuscript music which 
 he had just given me, and he played it through quite 
 simply, but prefaced it by three or four chords, — such 
 handfuls of notes ! — ^that would have gone to Mr. 
 * * *'s heart. He then stopped; and I would not on 
 any account ask for more, as I found that he played 
 without any satisfaction to himself. We took leave of 
 each other in a tone of what in France would be called 
 confirmed friendship; and he said, quite voluntarily, 
 that, if he came to England, he would certainly pay us 
 a visit." 
 
 Beethoven's literary attainments were respectable. 
 He was well acquainted with the literature of his own 
 country, and read, in the original language, the Italian 
 poets. He also understood English, and had a know- 
 ledge of our best authors. During the illness which 
 terminated in his death, he amused himself, in his in- 
 tervals of ease, by reading the ancient Greek writers, 
 and the novels of Walter Scott. In the society of his 
 jGdends, when he was able to shake oflF his habitual 
 reserve, his conversation was animated, full of interest-
 
 BEETHOVEN. 143 
 
 ing anecdotes, and acute observations. He was inca- 
 pable of the slightest duplicity or meanness, and was 
 esteemed by all who knew him for his high principles, 
 and the undeviating rectitude of his conduct. 
 
 As a musician, Beethoven must be classed along with 
 Handel, Haydn, and Mozart. He alone is to be com- 
 pared to them in the magnitude of his works, and their 
 influence on the state of the art. Though he has 
 written little in the department to which Plandel de- 
 voted all the energies of his mind, yet his spirit, more 
 than that of any other composer, is akin to that of 
 Handel. In his music there is the same gigantic 
 grandeur of conception, the same breadth and sim- 
 plicity of design, and the same absence of minute 
 finishing and petty details. In Beethoven's harmonies, 
 the masses of sound are equally large, ponderous, and 
 imposing as those of Handel, while they have a deep 
 and gloomy character peculiar to himself. As they 
 swell in our ears, and grow darker and darker, they are 
 like the lowering storm-cloud, on which we gaze till 
 we are startled by the flash, and appalled by the 
 thunder which bursts from its bosom. Such efi'ects he 
 has especially produced in his wonderful symphonies ; 
 they belong to the tone of his mind, and are without a 
 parallel in the whole range of music. Even where he 
 does not wield the strength of a great orchestra, — in 
 his instrumental concerted pieces, his quartets, his 
 trios, and his sonatas for the piano-forte, there is the 
 same broad and massive harmony, and the same wild, 
 unexpected, and startling efi'ects. Mingled with these, 
 in his orchestral as well as his chamber music, there 
 are strains of melody inexpressibly impassioned and
 
 144 BEETHOVEN. 
 
 ravishing ; — strains which do not merely please, but 
 dissolve in pleasure ; which do not merely move, but 
 overpower with emotion. Of these divine melodies, a 
 remarkable feature is their extreme simplicity: a few 
 notes, as artless as those of a national air, are sujficient 
 to awake the most exquisite feelings. 
 
 The music of Beethoven is stamped with the pecu- 
 liarities of the man. When slow and tranquil in its 
 movement, it has not the placid composure of Haydn, 
 or the sustained tenderness of Mozart ; but it is grave, 
 and full of deep and melancholy thought. "When 
 rapid, it is not brisk or lively, but agitated and change- 
 ful, — full of " sweet and bitter fancies," — of storm and 
 sunshine, — of bursts of passion sinking into the sub- 
 dued accents of grief, or relieved by transient gleams 
 of hope or joy. There are movements, indeed, to which 
 he gives the designation of scherzoso, or playful ; but 
 this playfulness is as unlike as possible to the constitu- 
 tional jocularity to which Haydn loved to give vent in 
 ihe finales of his symphonies and quartets. If, in a 
 movement of this kind, Beethoven sets out in a tone of 
 gaiety, his mood changes involuntarily, — the smile 
 fades away, as it were, from his features, — and he falls 
 into a train of sombre ideas, from which he ever and 
 anon recovers himself, as if with an effort, and from a 
 recollection of the nature of his subject. The rapid 
 scherzos, which he has substituted for the older form 
 of the minuet, are wild, impetuous, and fantastic; 
 they have often the air of that violent and fitful 
 vivacity to which gloomy natures are liable ; their 
 mirth may be compared to that of the bacchanalian 
 effusion of the doomed Caspar. They, contain, how-
 
 BEETHOVEN. 145 
 
 ever, many of Beethoven's most original and beautiful 
 conceptions ; and are strikingly illustrative of the cha- 
 racter of his mind. 
 
 The works composed by Beethoven in the latter years 
 of his life are not so generally known or relished as his 
 earlier productions. These earlier compositions are clear 
 in design, and so broad and simple in their effects, that, 
 when they receive justice from the performers, they at 
 once strike every one who is susceptible of the influence 
 of music. In his more recent works, his meaning is 
 obscure, and in many instances, incomprehensible. He 
 has cast away all established models, and not only, 
 thrown his movements into new and unprecedented 
 forms, but has introduced the same degree of novelty 
 into all their details. The phrases of his melody are 
 new ; his harmonies are new ; his disposition of parts 
 is new ; and his sudden changes of time, of measure,, 
 and of key, are frequently not explicable on any received 
 principles of the art. 
 
 The imagination is defined by metaphysicians as the 
 faculty which enables us to create new forms, by throw- 
 ing the parts of existing objects into new combina- 
 tions*; but, in order that the new creation may be 
 
 • " The province of conception is to present us with an exact 
 transcript of what we have formerly felt and perceived ; that of 
 imagination, to make a selection of qualities and of circumstances 
 from a variety of different objects, and, by combining and dispo- 
 sing these, to form a new creation of its own." — " An uncommon 
 degree of imagination constitutes poetical genius; a talent, which, 
 although chiefly displayed in poetical composition, is also the 
 foundation (though not precisely in the same manner) of various 
 Other arts." — "A cultivated taate, combined with a creative ima- 
 
 YOL. II. L
 
 146 BEETHOVEN. 
 
 comprelieiisible, all its parts must be previously fami- 
 liar to the mind. The wildest imagination, in forming 
 the 
 
 Gorgons, and hydras, and chimeras dire, 
 
 of the poets, can only compose them of parts, all of 
 which exist in nature, but which nature has never 
 placed in such fearful collocation. Originality in the 
 arts consists in the novelty of the combinations into 
 which the artist throws known materials. The archi- 
 tect, for example, creates an edifice entirely new in its 
 general aspect, by a new disposition of those objects 
 which are held to be constituent parts of all buildings 
 of its class. Whatever may be its magnitude or com- 
 plexity, its porticoes, its pediments, its pillars, its 
 pilasters, must all be modelled according to forms and 
 proportions which are prescribed by the rules of the 
 art. If each of these parts is properly introduced with 
 a view to its particular function, and also with a view 
 to the site and purpose of the building, the architecture 
 will be pure and beautiful : if the parts are so com- 
 bined as to produce a general aspect diflferent from that 
 of any existing edifice, the architecture will be ori- 
 ginal. If the architect, in the wantonness of imagi- 
 nation, throw together the elementary parts of the 
 architecture of different orders, different ages, and dif- 
 ferent countries, — if he blend the Grecian portico, the 
 Gothic arch, the cupola, and the minaret, he will pro- 
 
 gination, constitutes genius in the fine arts. SVithout taste, 
 imagination could produce only a random analysis and combination 
 o£ our conceptions; and without imagination, taste would be 
 destitute of the faculty of invention." — Puoald Stewart.
 
 BEETHOVEN. 147 
 
 duce an architectural " chimera," which, however mon- 
 strous, may possess a certain wild and fantastic beauty, 
 like the fictions of the poets, or arabesques of the 
 painters. But endeavour to imagine a building, which 
 shall be new in all its parts as well as its entire form, 
 —a building not composed of the parts belonging to 
 any order of architecture ; and, if it is possible to ima- 
 gine such a thing, it will be a mere mass of deformity. 
 There are many styles in music; but every composi- 
 tion, whatever may be its style, in order to be beau- 
 tiful or expressive, must consist of those elementary 
 phrases of melody, or harmonic combinations, the 
 beauty or expression of which the listener has already 
 felt ; and the originality of the work will depend on 
 the novelty of the forms into which these elements are 
 thrown. 
 
 Nature herself has dictated the simple forms of 
 melody ; and that which constitutes " the concord of 
 sweet sounds," is fixed by immutable laws. Caprice, 
 and the love of change, may lead to arbitrary deviations 
 from these principles, but such deviations are always 
 temporary, and end in a return to the natural standards 
 of taste. It was by listening to the beautiful, but 
 hitherto neglected popular airs, which had been sung for 
 ages among the hills and valleys of their country, that 
 the Italian musicians of the sixteenth century formed 
 that school of melody " which enchants the world;" 
 and it is by digging deeper into the rich mine of national 
 song, that the most modem composers have discovered 
 inexhaustible stores of the materials of melody. Beet- 
 hoven's most beautiful works draw much of the origi- 
 nality of their character from the traits of national 
 
 L2
 
 148 BEETHOVEN. 
 
 song with wliich tliey abound*. But when he has 
 attempted, in his latest productions, to attain originality 
 by an entire novelty in his musical phrases themselves, 
 he has failed in his object of giving delight, because he 
 has presented objects, the forms of which do not pre- 
 exist in the mind of the listener, associated with the 
 ideas of beauty or expression. A piece of music, en- 
 tirely constructed in this manner, would be analogous to 
 a building destitute of the elementary forms of archi- 
 tecture. The one would be a fit residence for the king 
 of a tribe of African savages; the other would be a 
 suitable entertainment for his ears. But none of 
 Beethoven's works are entirely constructed in this way. 
 Even in those which appear the most extravagant and 
 incomprehensible, — in which we can neither discover a 
 regular form, nor an intelligible design, — and which 
 
 • " Those singular phrases or progressions of melody which 
 are particularly characteristic of national music, and were once 
 supposed to be incapable of any alliance with regular harmony, 
 are now becoming common in the most scientific works of the 
 greatest composers. The music of Beethoven and Weber is full 
 of them ; and it may be mentioned as a curious instance, that 
 the subject of the allegro movement of the second quartet by the 
 former, dedicated to Count Rasoumoffsky, is almost the same as 
 a very wild Javanese air, which our musical readers, who may 
 be desirous to trace the coincidence, will find in Crawford's 
 History of the Indian Archipelago. Numberless passages of a 
 similar kuid may be pointed out, accompanied with full harmony, 
 and made subject to the strictest laws of counterpoint." — 
 Harmonicon, January, 1828. — We have traced the coincidence 
 between Beethoven's passage and the Indian air ; and (without 
 speaking of other instances) we may refer to the Turkish air 
 which forms the subject of one of the chorusses in Oberon.
 
 BEETHOVEN. 149 
 
 contain phrases and passages which convey no ideas 
 either of melody or harmony, we are ever and anon 
 enchanted with both melody and harmony of the purest, 
 simplest, and most exquisite kind ; and we regret that 
 so much beauty should be mingled with what we can- 
 not help feeling to be actual deformity. 
 
 But, it will be said, music of an original character is 
 never appreciated at first. The works of Haydn and 
 Mozart, and the earlier compositions of Beethoven him- 
 self, which are now in general favour, were, in their 
 novelty, looked upon as strange and extravagant. This, 
 however, arose from these works being more complex 
 in their forms, and demanding more skilful execution 
 than their precursors. The bounds of melody were 
 enlarged by the development of the powers of instru- 
 ments; and the growing skill of performers enabled 
 them not only to execute passages that formerly would 
 iave been deemed impossible, but to untwist the most 
 complicated chains of harmony. For such performers 
 as these, the works we speak of were composed, and 
 by such they were comprehended and relished from the 
 first. But, in the hands of ordinary performers, a con- 
 certed vocal piece, a quartet, or a symphony of one of 
 those composers was a mere mass of confusion ; and, as 
 they themselves could neither perform it nor understand 
 it, it was, of course, equally incomprehensible to their 
 audience. Wherever, however, these pieces were really 
 performed, they were instantly understood.* Innume- 
 
 • The introduction of Mozart's music into Italy is an illus- 
 tration of this. About the year 1807, his opera of the Seraglio 
 was attempted at Milan ; but neither singers nor players could 
 perform it either in time or tune. The concerted pieces and
 
 150 BEETHOVEN. 
 
 rable amateurs are now able to execute them witli more 
 correctness and effect than the ordinary professional 
 artists of the period when they appeared : and they give 
 delight to every one whose musical taste has received 
 the most moderate cultivation; because their elementary 
 phrases, though drawn from a greater variety of sources, 
 and more varied in their combinations than before, 
 already have their types in the mind of the hearer, and 
 thus instantly excite the feeling of beauty. The extreme 
 simplicity and naturalness of Beethoven's melody, we 
 have already had occasion to point out as a peculiar 
 feature of his most admired works ; and hence it arises, 
 
 finales were a mass of confusion and discord; though two or 
 three airs were intelligibly performed, and gave pleasure. The 
 effect of the whole, however, was shocking ; and Mozart's music 
 was hooted. Some time afterwards, a noble amateur, who was 
 told by his correspondents at Vienna, that Mozart really was a 
 great musician, determined to give his music a trial. He got 
 together a few of the best instrumentalists he could find, and half- 
 a-dozen singers, and engaged them to study in his palace, and 
 in strict privacy, the finale to the first act of Don Giovanni. After 
 some months' hard practice, they were able to go through it cor- 
 rectly ; and the prince, who had taste, was charmed with it. He 
 then began to talk in society about Mozart's genius ; and, as his 
 extraordinary notions met with the opposition he wanted, he got 
 Bome of his adversaries into a wager, by engaging to have a piece 
 of Mozart's performed, which certain umpires should admit to be 
 excellent. The prince's wager was, of course, laughed at by 
 everybody ; but when the day of decision came, he invited a 
 large party to his country-house, produced his performers, and 
 had the piece executed. The wager was decided in his favour 
 by acclamation ; and it was owing, in no small degree, to the sen- 
 sation caused by this occurrence, that Mozart's operas began to 
 be successfully represented and understood in Italy.
 
 BEETHOVEN. 151 
 
 that there is no music, belonging to the highest depart- 
 ment of the art in its modem state, more easily com- 
 prehended, and mc>re powerfully felt by a promiscuous 
 assembly. There is thus no analogy between the case of 
 the compositions in question, and the latest works of 
 Beethoven. The truth appears to be, that, in consequence 
 of his total exclusion from the audible world during 
 his latter years, not only must his mind have been de- 
 prived of that constant supply of new ideas, derived 
 from the hearing of actual sounds, which is the daily 
 food of the imagination, but the ideas accumulated 
 during his earlier years must have gradually faded 
 away from his memory. 
 
 If, then, the view which we have taken of the later 
 works of Beethoven is correct, it seems less probable 
 that they will gradually gain popularity, than that they 
 will fall into oblivion ; leaving, however, enough behind 
 them to secure the undying fame of the author. 
 
 On this subject much difference of opinion prevails, 
 even among the most enlightened judges of the art. In 
 regard to one point, we have found many musicians, of 
 the very highest pretensions to knowledge and taste, 
 agreed, namely, that the works in question contain 
 much matter, at present incomprehensible, mingled with 
 their beauties : but some, reasoning from the progressive 
 state of music, conclude that the development of 
 Beethoven's mysteries is reserved for a future time. 
 This opinion is expressed in a masterly paper on 
 " Beethoven," in the 8th volume of the Foreign Quar- 
 terly/ Review, a journal distinguished for the excellence 
 of its musical criticism. " Music," says the writer, " is 
 now in a state to afford a clue to the meaning of elabo-
 
 ] 52 BEETHOVEN. 
 
 rate compositions, which before seemed to be one laby- 
 rinth of inextricable doubt and error ; and we would 
 fain hope that such of Beethoven's later works as still 
 remain incomprehensible, are only conceived in some 
 exalted region of the fancy beyond the flight of ordinary 
 imagination. When the solution of difficulties is found 
 in the gradual refinement and progress of an intellectual 
 taste, such a deduction is surely not unreasonable ; and 
 we confidently expect that time will dispel the mists 
 which yet envelop the composer s meaning in his post- 
 humous quartets, his last grand mass, and his symphony 
 with a chorus, — works in which he has pushed to ex- 
 tremity the usual license and audacity of his harmony." 
 In the hope thus expressed we would gladly participate : 
 but whether it is well founded, or whether the progress 
 of music, taking a different direction, will leave for ever 
 in their present obscurity the fantastic effusions of this 
 great musician's imagination, is a question which time 
 alone can decide. 
 
 It is in his symphonies that the powers of Beethoven's 
 genius are most fully displayed. The symphony in C 
 minor stands alone and unrivalled ; and the Sinfonia 
 Pastorale is probably the finest piece of descriptive music 
 in existence. Every movement of this charming work 
 is a scene, and every scene is full of the most beautiful 
 images of rural nature and rural life. We feel the 
 freshness of a summer morning. We hear the rustling 
 of the breeze, the waving of the woods, the cheerful 
 notes of birds, and cries of animals. We stray along 
 the margin of a meandering brook, and listen to the 
 murmuring of its waters. We join a group of villagers, 
 keeping holiday with joyous songs and dances. The
 
 BEETHOVEN. 153 
 
 sky grows dark, the thunder growls, and a storm bursts 
 on the alarmed rustics, whose cries of dismay are heard 
 amidst the strife of the elements. The clouds pass 
 away ; the muttering of the thunder is more and more 
 distant; all becomes quiet and placid; and the stillness 
 is broken by the pastoral song of gratitude. Nothing 
 can be more beautiful or more true to nature than every 
 part of this representation. It requires no key, no 
 explanation, — but places every image before the mind 
 with a distinctness which neither poetry nor painting 
 could surpass, and with a beauty which neither of them 
 could equal. . 
 
 In his chamber compositions, — ^his quintets, quartets, 
 and trios, for bowed instruments, and especially in his 
 splendid series of works for the piano-forte, — Beethoven 
 has left to the amateurs of music an inexhaustible fund 
 of delight. He has shown that this instrument has 
 powers which it was formerly not imagined to possess, 
 and has made it the means of producing effects which 
 neither those who have preceded, nor those who have 
 followed him, have been able to reach. 
 
 Beethoven's greatest vocal composition is the musical 
 drama, or oratorio. The Mount of Olives. Some parts of 
 this work are more in the theatrical than the ecclesias- 
 tical style, and some of the scenes would require dra-» 
 matic action to give them their full effect. But it bears 
 the impress of his mighty genius. The gloomy sounds 
 of the opening symphony, sinking into a silence broken 
 only by the slow and measured strokes of the drum, 
 are sufficient to banish every wandering thought, to fill 
 the most indifferent auditor with awe, and to prepare his 
 mind for the strain so full of woe, which expresses the
 
 154 BEETHOVEN. 
 
 passion of the Redeemer. In the original form of the 
 piece, the Divine Person himself is supposed to speak 
 this language of intense suffering ; but this, though not 
 inconsistent with continental notions, is very properly- 
 viewed in a different light in England. This passage, 
 therefore is delivered in the third person, so as to be a 
 description, by another, of the agony it is meant to 
 express; and the design of the author is necessarily 
 sacrificed to a right sense of religious decorum. Con- 
 sidered as a drama, containing scenes of intense interest, 
 and full of the deepest feeling. The Mount of Olives leaves 
 nothing to be desired ; but, when heard in a church 
 it wants the sustained gravity and solemnity of the 
 ecclesiastical style. Almost the only parts of it, indeed, 
 which really belong to that style, are the instrumental 
 symphony at the commencement, and the concluding 
 chorus " Hallelujah to tlie Father" which is full of 
 sublime simplicity. 
 
 Beethoven composed two masses. The first is well 
 known, and justly considered a most sublime composi- 
 tion. The second which was published after his death, 
 has hardly ever, we believe, been attempted; nor, indeed, 
 has any one been able to comprehend its meaning. 
 - Beethoven produced only one opera, Fidelio; the 
 other, Meltisina, on which he appears to have been for 
 some time employed, never having seen the light. 
 Fidelio is well known in this country, from the manner 
 in which it was performed in the original language, by 
 the excellent German company who attracted so much 
 attention in London during the seasons of 1832 and 
 1833, and, more recently, from the exquisite singing 
 and acting of Madame Malibran, when the opera was
 
 BEETHOVEN. 155 
 
 brought out at Drury-lane theatre in an English dress. 
 In one respect, it surpasses any opera that we are 
 acquainted with, — its deep dramatic interest, and its 
 effect on the feelings. The character of Leonora, the 
 tender, faithful, heroic wife, is even more than beautiful 
 —it is sublime ; and, at the conclusion, the tears and 
 exclamations of the audience never fail to mark their 
 sympathy with the rapturous joy of the re-united pair, 
 as well as the delight they receive from the enchanting 
 accents in which this joy is expressed. As a musical 
 whole, Fidelio is not equal to the still unrivalled Don 
 Giovanni; though, in many of its parts, it does not 
 yield, either in the beauty and expression of the melo- 
 dies, the richness and ingenuity of the choral and con- 
 certed pieces, or the power of the orchestral effects, 
 even to that immortal production. 
 
 Beethoven died in his fifty-seventh year, — at an age 
 when the physical strength is generally little impaired, 
 and the mental faculties are in their full maturity and 
 vigour ; and, during a considerable part of this compa- 
 ratively short Ufe, he suffered under the total depriva- 
 tion of that sense which, above all others, is necessary 
 to the musician. When this is remembered, and con- 
 trasted with the immense magnitude of what he has 
 achieved in his art, Beethoven cannot be looked upon 
 as inferior in genius to any musician who has ever lived, 
 •—not even to Handel himselL
 
 156 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 MUSIC IN GERMANY IN THE PRESENT CENTURY, 
 CONTINUED. WEBER. 
 
 Carl Maria von Weber was born in 1786, at Eutin, 
 a small town in Holstein. His father, who was a 
 violinist of some note, gave him a liberal education, 
 and enabled him to cultivate his talents for music and 
 painting, between which his inclinations seem, in his 
 early years, to have been divided. His ardour in the 
 study of painting, however, abated as his mind became 
 more and more engrossed by his love of music. After 
 he had acquired great skill as a piano-forte player, his 
 father placed him under the care of Michael Playdn, 
 brother of the illustrious Joseph Haydn, and himself a 
 celebrated composer in the ecclesiastical style. Under 
 him, Weber laboured earnestly ; but, according to his 
 own account, without much success. The master was 
 then far advanced in years, and of an austere disposi- 
 tion. " There was too awful a distance," W^eber him- 
 self says, " between the old man and the child." 
 
 At this time, in 1798, his first work was published, 
 consisting of six Fughetti, or short fugues, which were 
 favourably noticed by the Leipsic Musical Gazette. In 
 the same year he went to Munich, where he received in- 
 structions from M. Kalcher, the organist of the Royal 
 Chapel, to whom he ascribes his knowledge of the laws 
 of counterpoint, and their ready application to practice. 
 Under the eye of this master he composed an opera, a
 
 WEBER. 157 
 
 grand mass, and many instrumental pieces ; all which 
 were afterwards committed to the flames. The art of 
 lithography, recently invented, now attracted his atten- 
 tion ; and his attempts to improve upon the invention 
 for a time entirely occupied his mind. But his ardour 
 in this pursuit soon subsided, and he returned to his 
 musical labours. 
 
 At the age of fourteen he composed the opera Das 
 Waldmadchen (the Wood Girl,) which was performed 
 for the first time in November, 1800, and received with 
 applause at Vienna, Prague, and Petersburgh. The 
 whole of the second act was composed in ten days, — 
 "one of the unfortunate consequences," he himself 
 says, and the remark is worthy of being attended to, 
 " of those marvellous anecdotes of celebrated men 
 which act so strongly on the youthful mind, and incite 
 to emulation." After this he was induced, by reading 
 an article in a musical journal, to think of composing 
 in an ancient style, and of reviving the use of for- 
 gotten instruments. According to this plan, he com- 
 posed an opera called Peter Schmoll und seine Nachharn 
 (Peter Schmoll and his neighbours), which had little 
 success, but received the warm approbation of his old 
 master, Michael Haydn. 
 
 Soon afterwards he visited Vienna, and mingled 
 in the musical society of that city. He became ac- 
 quainted with the Abbe Vogler, a learned and profound 
 musician, who generously undertook to give him the 
 benefit of his own knowledge and experience. Aided 
 by the advice and assistance of Vogler, "Weber, for two 
 years, devoted himself to a severe study of the works of 
 the great masters ; and, during this period, published
 
 158 WEBER. 
 
 only one or two trifles. After having finished this 
 course of education, he received the situation of maestro 
 di capella at Breslau. During his residence there he 
 composed an opera called Buhezahl, or Number-Nip, 
 the celebrated spirit, or fiend, of the Hartz mountains. 
 
 In 1806 he entered into the employment of the Duke 
 Eugene, of Wiirtemberg. Here he composed several 
 symphonies and other pieces of instrumental music. 
 He also remodelled his opera of The Wood Girl, and 
 reproduced it under the title of Sylvana. In 1810 he 
 composed the opera oiAhu Hassan, at Darmstadt. This 
 piece, which is founded on a well known and amusing 
 story in the "Arabian Nights," had considerable 
 success. The tale is well dramatized, and the music 
 light and comic. It was brought out in London some 
 years ago, and frequently performed. 
 
 In 1813 he was employed to re-organize and direct 
 the opera at Prague, and relinquished the management 
 in 1816, after having accomplished the object for 
 which he undertook it. He then received an invita- 
 tion to Dresden, for the purpose of establishing a 
 German opera in that city. He had previously de- 
 clined many handsome oficrs from various quarters; 
 but this invitation he accepted with alacrity, as it pro- 
 mised to gratify the wish he had long entertained, of 
 placing on a proper footing the national opera of his 
 own country. He continued to hold this situation till 
 his death. 
 
 At Dresden he composed his far-famed Freischutz. 
 He did not, however, bring it out there, but, by permis- 
 sion of his sovereign, at Berlin, where it was first per- 
 formed in the beginning of 1822. It was received witli
 
 WEBER. 159 
 
 an enthusiasm which rapidly spread over Germany, 
 and at once raised its author's name to the summit of 
 popularity. His well-regulated mind bore with calm- 
 ness this sudden celebrity. " I am delighted," he says, 
 in a letter to a friend, " that my Freischutz has given 
 you pleasure. I need the approbation of men of merit 
 to stimulate me to activity. Carried to my present 
 height by the storm of applause, I am ever in fear of a 
 fall. How much better it is to pursue one's way in 
 peace and quiet!" Nothing but Der Freisckiitz was 
 performed in any theatre in Germany, and nothing but 
 the airs from it were heard even in the streets of the 
 smallest villages. In July, 1824, an English version 
 of it was produced in London, at the English Opera- 
 house, and fully gratified the highly-raised expectations 
 of the public. On the opening of the great winter 
 theatres, it was brought out at both of them. Each 
 theatre had a different version of it, and in each ver- 
 sion it was injured by wanton changes, mutilations, 
 and interpolations, according to the prevailing usage in 
 English adaptations of foreign operas. The great fea- 
 tures of the piece, however, remained : it was got up 
 with much splendour and magnificence ; and, generally 
 speaking, was well performed. It was received with 
 an enthusiasm not inferior to that which it had ex- 
 cited in Germany ; it made the round of all the pro- 
 vincial theatres ; and, wherever it appeared, was played 
 night after night to overflowing houses. 
 
 In the winter of 1822, Weber produced the musical 
 drama of Preciosa, founded on a tale of Cervantes. This 
 piece was very successful, not only at Dresden, where 
 it was originally produced, but all over Germany. The
 
 160 WEBER. 
 
 attempts, however, to adapt it to the Frencli and 
 English stage, failed, notwithstanding the beauty and 
 romantic character of the music. 
 
 In November, 1823, the opera of Euryanthe was 
 produced at Vienna, and received as warmly as the 
 Freischutz had been. The applause was enthusiastic, 
 and the composer was four times called upon the stage 
 during the first performance. Its progress in general 
 favour, however, was less rapid than that of the Frei- 
 schutz. It was rather coldly received at Berlin; and 
 the musical wits of that place punned upon its title, 
 and called it '"'' L'Ennuyante!" People were disap- 
 pointed, not because they did not meet with the same 
 excellence as in the Freischutz, but because it was not 
 the same kind of excellence, " The effect produced by 
 my Euryanthe" Weber says, in one of his letters, " is 
 precisely what I anticipated. My indiscreet friends 
 have, in this instance, lent their hand to my enemies, 
 by requiring that Euryanthe should seduce as many as 
 the Freischutz had done : both the one and the other 
 are equally foolish in doing so." Euryanthe, however, 
 was calculated to gain a lasting success, if a slow one. 
 Its story, though it wants the attractions of diablerie, 
 is interesting, and resembles that of Shakspeare's Cym- 
 heline; and the music, though not capable of imme- 
 diately striking the popular ear, makes a profound 
 impression when the performers have surmounted the 
 great difficulties of its execution*. 
 
 • This opera was performed by the German company who 
 were in London in 1833, and received so much applause that it 
 would certainly have had a run, had it not been brought out when 
 the theatre wtus ou the eve of closing.
 
 WEBER. 161 
 
 In the year 1824 "Weber undertook to compose an 
 opera for Covent Garden theatre; and the drama of 
 Oberon was written for him by Mr. Planche. Mr. 
 Kemble, then manager of that theatre, in the course 
 of a tour through Germany, in which he was accom- 
 panied by Sir George Smart, wont to Dresden in the 
 month of August, 1825, for the purpose of visiting 
 Weber, and making the final arrangements respecting 
 this opera, which was to be brought out, under his 
 own superintendence, in the following spring. On this 
 occasion the travellers were witnesses of Weber's zeal 
 for the improvement of music. He carried them to a 
 tea-garden, the price of admission to which was a 
 few groschen, — something about threepence English, — 
 where a good and numerous orchestra were playing for 
 the entertainment of the company. On his desiring 
 them to mention any overture they wished to hear, 
 they named one, which was played with admirable 
 precision and effect. Weber then told them that this 
 band was supported as a kind of nursery for instru- 
 mental performers, who entered it for a low remimera- 
 tion, as vacancies in the orchestra of the opera, and 
 other regular orchestras in the city, were filled up from 
 it, and it afforded a supply of well-trained and expe- 
 rienced players. 
 
 In the prospect of Weber's coming to England, Mr. 
 Kemble sent him, through Sir George Smart, an offer 
 of an engagement to conduct the Govent Garden ora- 
 torios of that season. In answer, Weber, on the 4th 
 of January, 1826, wrote Sir George : — "I cannot 
 express the pleasure which has given me your kind 
 letter, and the very good intentions and friendship 
 
 VOL. II. M
 
 162 WEBER. 
 
 which you express by it. To my sorrow, however, the 
 circumstances do not allow mc to accept the proposal of 
 our honoured friend Mr. Kemble, and the easy manner 
 with which your goodness has made it so alluring for 
 me. But I shall be happy enough, when I can arrive 
 in London the first days of March with the ended 
 Oleron in my pocket. With gratitude I acknowledge 
 your repeated invitation to come to your house, and I 
 consent gratefully to give you this burden, as it is your 
 will*." 
 
 On the 6th of February, Weber again wrote Sir 
 George Smart ; — " My dear Sir, I leave Dresden the 
 16th February. I shall sleep every nigh,t, because I 
 am forbidden to travel by night, — remain one day at 
 Frankfort, and hope to arrive at Paris the 25th Fe- 
 bruary. There I must remain some days, and there- 
 fore I cannot be in London, embarking at Calais, before 
 the 5th or 6th of March. Consequently I can only 
 accept the fair offer of our honoured friend Mr. Kemble, 
 than for the four last oratorios, the 8th, 10th, 15th and 
 17th, for which I hope Mr. Kemble will accord me the 
 round sum of one hundred pounds sterling t. 
 
 " Beyond all this, however, I must entirely apply to 
 your goodness ; without that I would be a very helpless 
 being. But you prove yet already by your kind letter, 
 and the very useful advices which you give mc in it, 
 
 • It has been commonly said that Weber studied the English 
 language, for the purpose of enabling himself to compose Oberon, 
 This, however, is a mistake. Weber, like most well-educated 
 Germans, was previously well acquainted with English. 
 
 •\ Weber conducted five oratorios, for which he received 
 125;.
 
 WEBER. 163 
 
 for which I cannot be enough, indebted to you, that I 
 can hope every aid by your friendship. Your letter 
 shall be my direction after which I regulate myself; 
 and Mrs. Weber is a great deal more tranquil, to see 
 me in such hands in England, and looks upon it with 
 hearty thanks. 
 
 " I am not attended by a servant, but Mr. Furstenau* 
 will come along with me, and I am very glad to know 
 that he can reside near me. 
 
 " The engagement of Mr. Braham is a very good 
 news, and gives me great pleasure. 
 
 " If this letter goes so fast as yours, you can give 
 me, if you think it necessary, some news at Paris, 
 where my direction is by Maurice Schlcsinger's. And 
 now, my dear Sir, I give you a hearty shake hands, 
 and remain, with all regard and esteem, your's faith- 
 fully." 
 
 On the 5th of March, "Weber arrived in London, 
 His expected visit had excited great interest, and the 
 attentions he received were in the highest degree gra- 
 tifying to his feelings. On his arrival, in place of being 
 required, as an alien, to present himself at the passport- 
 oflBice, he was waited upon and requested to give him- 
 self no trouble, as that matter had been arranged for 
 him. He took up his abode in the house of Sir George 
 Smart, whose attention to his comforts was unremitting. 
 
 The letters written by him, from London, to his 
 wife, Caroline Brand, a distinguished actress, to whom 
 he had been married for some years, give an account of 
 everything that occurred to him at this time, and place 
 
 • An eminent performer on the flute, and an intimate friend of 
 Weber and his family. 
 
 M 2
 
 ] 64 WEBER. 
 
 his character in the most amiable light. In a letter 
 written a few days after his arrival, ho describes the 
 impression made upon him by his reception in Eng- 
 land. ' 
 
 " The English way of living," he says, " suits mine 
 exactly; and my little stock of English, in which I 
 make tolerable progress, is of incalculable use to me. 
 * * * * The people are really too kind to me. No 
 king had ever more done for him out of love ; I might 
 almost say they carry me in their arms. 
 
 " At seven o'clock in the evening, we went to Covent 
 Garden, where Roh Roy^ an opera after Sir Walter 
 Scott's novel, was played. The house is handsomely 
 decorated, and not too large. When I came forward 
 to the front of the stage-box, that I might have a better 
 view of it, some one called out, ' Weber ! Weber !' 
 And though I drew back immediately, there followed a 
 clamour of applause that I thought never would have 
 ended. Then the overture to the Freischutz was called 
 for, and every time I showed myself, the storm again 
 broke loose. Fortunately, soon after the overture, 
 Roh Roy began, and things gradually became more 
 quiet. Could a man wish for more enthusiasm, or more 
 love? I must confess that I was completely over- 
 powered by it, though I am of a calm disposition, and 
 somewhat accustomed to such scenes. I know not what 
 I would have given to have had you by my side, that 
 you might have seen me in my foreign garb of honour. 
 And now, my dear love, I can assure you that you 
 may be quite at case, both as to the singers and the 
 orchestra. Miss Paton is a singer of the first rank, 
 and will play Reiza divinely. Braham not less so,
 
 WEBER, 165 
 
 though in a totally different style. There arc also 
 several good tenors, and I really cannot see why the 
 English singing should be so much abused. The 
 singers have a perfectly good Italian education, fine 
 voices, and expression. The orchestra is not remark- 
 able, but still very good, and the chonisses particularly 
 so. In short, I feel quite at ease as to the fate of 
 Oberon." 
 
 This opera, after very careful preparation, was brought 
 out on the 12th of April. It was admirably performed 
 in every department, and the great powers of Braham 
 and Miss Paton never were more fully displayed. The 
 -composer, in a letter to his wife, written the same 
 night, describes the reception of the piece. " My 
 best beloved Caroline !" he says, " through God's grace 
 and assistance, I have this evening met with the most 
 complete success. The brilliancy and affecting nature 
 of the triumph are indescribable. God alone be 
 thanked for it! When I entered the orchestra, the 
 whole of the house, which was filled to overflowing, 
 rose up, and I was saluted by huzzas, and waving of 
 hats and handkerchiefs, which I thought would never 
 have done. They insisted on encoring the overture. 
 Every air was interrupted twice or thrice with bursts 
 of applause. * * * * So much for this night, dear life, 
 from your heartily-tired husband, who, however, could 
 not sleep in peace till he had communicated to you this 
 new blessing of heaven. Good night !" 
 
 During his residence in London, Weber showed 
 great simplicity of manners, quiet and retiring habits, 
 and a mild and cheerful temper. He greatly enjoyed 
 the society of a few accomplished and intelligent per-
 
 166 WEBEK. 
 
 sons, but disliked gay and fashionable parties, which 
 he always avoided, except on the very few occasions of 
 his being invited to them as a musician, when he con- 
 sidered his attendance as a sacrifice to professional 
 duty. At table he was temperate ; never exceeding, 
 after dinner, two or three glasses of port, which he 
 preferred to every other wine, feeling, no doubt, the 
 benefit of its cordial and restorative quality in a climate 
 so severely trying to his feeble constitxition. He greatly 
 enjoyed, too, a glass of good porter. — He disliked the 
 introduction of the Freischiltz as a subject of conver- 
 sation. Notwithstanding the extraordinary success of 
 that opera ; though it had been performed, times innu- 
 merable, at every theatre in Germany, and printed in a 
 great variety of forms, he had never derived any pecu- 
 niary advantage from it whatever; and he felt sore 
 and mortified that a work, which had profited so 
 many, should have contributed nothing to the benefit 
 of his family. So strong was this feeling, that to 
 dwell on the merits or the popularity of the Freischutz^ 
 was the only thing that seemed capable of disturbing 
 the gentleness of his temper. On one occasion, when 
 a gentleman was talking a great deal of this opera, 
 and taking credit to himself for the share he had had 
 in bringing it out in England, "Weber remarked, with 
 some sharpness, that there was little to boast of on 
 that score, seeing that it had been previously brought 
 out all over the Continent. 
 
 He went one evening to a private glee-party, for the 
 purpose of hearing a species of music for which Eng- 
 land is pre-eminently distinguished. Many of our best 
 glees were performed by our finest singers, but they
 
 WEBEB. 167 
 
 made, on the whole, a painful impression on him, on 
 account of the male counter-tenor voice, — a description 
 of voice which, he said, was unnatural and disagree- 
 able. On the Continent, the male counter-tenor is un- 
 known ; and its novelty may naturally have produced 
 an impression on Weber, different from that which it 
 makes in this country, where it has long been con- 
 sidered essential to the production of complete vocal 
 harmony. 
 
 At one of the great parties which he attended pro- 
 fessionally, a lady of rank requested him, when he 
 sat down to the piano-forte, to play the overture to 
 the FreiscMltz^ at the same time placing the music 
 before him. Weber remarked, that it was not piano- 
 forte music. " Why, M. Weber," said the lady, and 
 turned to the title-page, " it is adapted to the piano- 
 forte by yourself." " You are quite right. Madam," 
 he replied, " and I am wrong. I shall play it with 
 pleasure." " Well ! " he afterwards remarked to a 
 friend who stood by him, " this lady has given me a 
 good lesson, which shows the folly of arrangements 
 for the piano-forte." 
 
 Braham having objected to the music originally 
 written to the song, " O, 'tis a glorious sight to see," 
 as not being calculated to display his vocal powers to 
 the best advantage, Weber, though displeased, yielded 
 to the singer s wish, and wrote the song as it was after- 
 wards sung ; and, having done so, said archly to a 
 friend of Braham's, " Now, I think I have taken the 
 measure of your friend." And, in truth, he had done 
 so; for the song certainly displays all his peculiar 
 powers, of voice, execution, and declamatory force, in
 
 168 WEBER. 
 
 their full extent. It was, accordingly, received with 
 acclamations by the public : but Weber never liked it, 
 and the original song has been preserved in the opera, 
 as performed in Germany. 
 
 Weber's music is remarkable for the discrimination 
 and skill with which the sound is suited to the sense, 
 on which account it ought to be closely studied and 
 imitated by our young dramatic composers. In one of 
 the pieces in Oheron, Miss Paton constantly failed to 
 produce the effect which the author intended. " I 
 don't know how it is," she said, " but I can never do 
 this as it should be." " The reason is," replied Weber, 
 " because you have not studied the words." During 
 the rehearsal of a hymn to the Deity, some of the 
 voices were too noisy. — " Hush, hush ! " cried Weber, 
 with true feeling and judgment, " if you were in the 
 presence of God, would you speak so loud ?" 
 
 On the occasion of his benefit concert, he was re- 
 quested to compose an air to the song, " From Chin- 
 dara's warbling fount I come," in Moore's Lalla Bookhy 
 for the purpose of being sung by Miss Stephens. The 
 words were brought to him in manuscript. On glanc- 
 ing over the lines, he immediately said, " The poetry 
 is not right," and showed his accurate knowledge of the 
 language, by pointing out a very minute error of the 
 transcriber. He was so anxious to enter fully into the 
 spirit of the verses, that, before he began to set them, 
 he insisted on reading the whole poem from which they 
 were extracted ; and was impressed, from this perusal, 
 with so strong an admiration of the poet's genius, that 
 he expressed a strong desire for his personal acquaint- 
 ance. He wrote down merely the melody of this
 
 WEBER. 169 
 
 song, with some slight indications of his design, where 
 the vocal phrases were separated by little passages of 
 symphony : and, from this manuscript, it was sung by 
 Miss Stephens at the concert, with his own piano- 
 forte accompaniment. We have seen this interesting 
 relic of Weber, in the possession of Sir George Smart. 
 The song was published after his death, with an accom- 
 paniment for the piano-forte by Mr. Moscheles. 
 
 Weber was now in the last stage of the fatal malady 
 under which he had long laboured. It was a pulmo- 
 nary disease, which had been aggravated by the 
 fatigues of a long journey and the severity of a cli- 
 mate, to which he was unaccustomed. " To-day," he 
 says to his wife on the IJth of April, " is enough to 
 be the death of any one. A thick, dark, yellow fog 
 overhangs the sky, so that one can hardly sec, in the 
 house, without candles. The sun stands powerless, 
 like a ruddy point in the clouds. No, — there is no 
 living in this climate. The longing I feel for Iloster- 
 witz and the clear air is indescribable. But patience, 
 patience, — one day rolls on after another; two months 
 are already over. I have formed an acquaintance with 
 Dr. Kind, a nephew of our own Kind. He is deter- 
 mined to make me well, God help me ! that will 
 never be in this life. I have lost all hope in physicians 
 and their art. Repose is my best doctor, and hence- 
 forth it shall be my sole object to obtain it." 
 
 Ob^ron continued to draw good houses, but its popu- 
 larity was not equal to that of the Freischi'Uz. The 
 composer, while he was the delight of the small circle 
 of musical friends among whom he lived, was disquali- 
 fied, by his feelings, habits, and manners, from sharing
 
 ] 70 WEBER. 
 
 in the golden harvest so abundantly reaped by foreign 
 favourites among the English aristocracy. His feelings 
 were too high, his habits too retiring, and his manners 
 too plain and simple, to enable him to profit by their 
 liberality. He was willing to increase the emoluments 
 of his long and painful journey to England, by attend- 
 ing private parties for the usual remuneration to artists 
 of distinction : but he was not willing to seek invita- 
 tions to such parties by paying court to their givers ; 
 and the consequence was, that two or three such 
 invitations were all he received. On the 26th of May, 
 he had a benefit concert ; and on this occasion, when 
 it might naturally have been expected that an over- 
 flowing audience would have testified the sentiments 
 of the English public towards one of the greatest 
 musicians who had ever visited our shores, the room 
 was not more than half fiUed*. Weber, struggling at 
 
 " On the same evening a favourite singer had his henefit con- 
 cert at the mansion of one of the nobility. About four hundred 
 persons, cliiefly of the fashionable world, were present ; the 
 tickets being one guinea each. Weber's concert was by no 
 means unproductive ; the net profit of it being about 130/. This 
 arose from the zeal and liberality of a very small number of 
 persons, each of whom purchased a considerable ninnber of 
 tickets, and some of them sent sums beyond the value of the 
 tickets they took ; while, from the spirit with which the pro- 
 fession volunteered their assistance, the expense of an excellent 
 orchestra and a strong body of solo performers was trifling. But 
 the number of tickets sold was just three hundred, and there were 
 not more than that number of persons in the room. The subse- 
 quent performance of Oberon, at Coveut Garden, for the benefit 
 of Weber's widow and children, did not defray the expenses. 
 W. Ward, Esq., then member for the city of London, not only 
 paid Weber twenty-five guineas for composing the air sung by
 
 WEBER. 171 
 
 once with illness and with suppressed feelings of disap- 
 pointment and mortification, was hardly able to get 
 throuofh the business of the evenins:, as conductor. At 
 the end of the concert, he threw himself on a sofa, in 
 a state of exhaustion which filled his surrounding 
 friends with alarm. 
 
 His whole thoughts were now turned towards his 
 home, and his impatience to be once more in the bosom 
 of his family was extreme. On the 30th of May, a few 
 days after his concert, he writes — "Dearest Lina ! excuse 
 the shortness and hurry of this, I have so many things 
 on hand. Writing is painful to me; my hands tremble 
 so. Already too, I am beginning to get impatient. 
 You will not receive any more letters from me. Ad- 
 dress your answer, not to London, but to Frankfort, 
 poste restante. You are surprised. Yes, I don't go by 
 Paris. What should I do there ? I cannot move, — I 
 cannot speak, — all business I must give up for years. 
 Then better, better, the straight way to my home,— 
 by Calais, Brussels, Cologne, and Coblentz, up the 
 Rhine to Frankfort, — a delightful journey. Though I 
 must travel slowly, resting sometimes half a day, I 
 think, in a fortnight, by the end of June, I shall be in 
 your arms. If God will, we shall leave this on the 
 12th of June, if Heaven will only grant me a little 
 strength. Well, everything will go better if we are 
 once on the way, — once out of this wretched climate. 
 I embrace you from my heart, my dear ones,— ever 
 
 Miss Stephens at the concert, but sent twenty guineas for his 
 tickets. This was a solitary instance of munificence on the part 
 of our aristocratic and wealthy "patrons of music." But 
 Weber was not the fashion.
 
 172 WEBER, 
 
 your loving father, Charles." On the 2nd of June, he 
 wrote again, and this was the last letter he ever wrote. 
 " As this letter will need no answer, it will be short 
 enough. Need no answer ! Think of that ! Fur- 
 stenau has given up the idea of his concert ; so perhaps 
 we shall be with you two days sooner : — huzza ! God 
 bless you all, and keep you well! O, were I only 
 among you ! I kiss you in thought, dear mother. 
 Love me also, and think always of your Charles, who 
 loves you above all things." 
 
 This joyful hope was destined never to be realized. 
 On the morning of the 5th of June, Weber was found 
 dead in his bed. His disease had not assumed an 
 immediately alarming form till the day on which he 
 wrote the above letter, when it compelled him to keep 
 his room ; but his spirits were not much depressed. 
 His appetite was good, and he did not appear to be 
 sensible of approaching danger. His anxiety to return 
 to his country and his family became stronger and 
 stronger ; and he was more cheerful, as the obstacles to 
 his departure appeared to be removed. When his 
 friend, M. Furstenau, left him at eleven o'clock on the 
 jiight of his death, he was in good spirits, and showed 
 no symptoms of immediate danger. 
 
 Sir George Smart had a female servant who used to 
 nurse Weber, and attend sedulously to his comforts, 
 and whom, consequently, he regarded with much 
 kindness. This woman, knowing his situation, was 
 very unwilling that he should lock the door of his 
 bed-room ; and, on this evening, on his going to bed, 
 begged him not to lock his door, which he said he 
 should not do. In the morning, the servant told hejr
 
 WEBER. 173 
 
 master that "Weber's door was locked, and that she had 
 knocked repeatedly without receiving any answer. 
 Suspecting the fatal occurrence, Sir George sent for M. 
 Furstenau and Mr. Moscheles, who arrived immediately. 
 The door was then forced open, and "Weber was found 
 in his bed, quite dead, but lying with his hand under 
 his head, as if he were in a tranquil sleep. Mr. 
 Robinson, a neighbouring surgeon, was sent for, who 
 said that Weber must have been dead for some time 
 aud must have died without pain or suflFering. On the 
 same day an inspection of the body took place, in order 
 to ascertain the cause of his death, and the result was 
 stated in the following certificate : — 
 
 " On opening the body of C. M. Von Weber, we 
 found an ulcer on the left side of the larynx, the lungs 
 almost universally diseased, filled with tubercles, of 
 which many were in a state of suppuration, with two 
 vomicae — one about the size of a common egg, the 
 other smaller, which was a quite sufiicicnt cause of his 
 death. 
 
 " T. TONCKEN, M. D. 
 
 Charles F. Forbes, M.D. 
 
 P. M. Kind, M.D. 
 
 "W. Robinson, Surgeon." 
 On the 2 1st of June, his remains were interred in 
 the A'aults below the Roman Catholic Chapel, in Sloor- 
 fields. The procession was attended by a nimicrous 
 body of his friends and professional brethren ; Sir 
 George Smart being chief mourner. The funeral service, 
 in which the Requiem of Mozart was performed by a 
 large vocal and instrumental band, took place in the 
 presence of two thousand persons, by whom the chapel
 
 174 WEBER. 
 
 was filled; and the ceremony was solemn and im- 
 pressive. 
 
 The efi*ect may be imagined of the tidings of his 
 death on the amiable woman whom he loved so dearly, 
 received by her when she was watching for the moment 
 of his return. 
 
 The impression made by this intelligence at Dresden 
 will be seen by the following letter, written to Sir 
 George Smart by M. Boettiger, counsellor of the court 
 of the king of Saxony, a friend of Weber's family. 
 
 " Dresden, June 15tk, 1826. 
 "Sir, — I never imagined that I should write to 
 you, whose personal acquaintance since we saw you at 
 Mr. Weber's table has been so dear to me, in such a 
 painful heart-breaking affair. Yesterday the neWs of 
 Mr. Weber's death arrived here. All Europe will 
 condole. A burst of grief is in the whole town. Tears 
 are flowing from every cheek. We all boasted in the 
 possession of the man who enjoyed an European reputa- 
 tion. But all this is nothing to the grief of poor Mrs. 
 Weber. She came to town this morning quite in a 
 desponding state, and charged me with the most 
 heartfelt expressions of her gratitude towards you, Sir, 
 for all the kindness you have shown to him from his 
 first entrance in your hospitable dwelling till the last 
 moment of a life, which, I am afraid, has been em- 
 bittered with many disappointments, flowing, perhaps, 
 from the public distress your country has been labouring 
 under in the three last months, and from engagements 
 rather rashly contracted. By the bye, it is much to be 
 wished for, that you may find leisure enough to give
 
 ■WEBER. 175 
 
 me some explanation about Mr. "Weber's transactions 
 witli Mr. C. Kemble; a common report, but not 
 originating from Mr. Weber's letters, who kept a 
 persevering silence on this point, having been spread 
 over all Germany, that Mr. Kemble did not act well 
 with Mr. Weber. I cannot believe it, because you, 
 Sir, have been witness of the engagement made at 
 Embs, and how confidentially Mr. Weber, who never 
 meddled with money affairs, and did not know what 
 could be asked for in England, relied on the bona fides 
 of a gentleman. Now give me leave to observe, that 
 it is for the honour of your country that such rumours 
 may be contradicted. Wc understand that poor Mr. 
 Weber's concert, the 27th of May, has been very thinly 
 attended, notwithstanding the ample promises from 
 every side that even in the present circumstances it 
 would be highly patronised, and that his benefit in 
 Covent Garden theatre was fixed precisely on the day 
 he expired. Dare I put to you the question, if the 
 benefit cannot take place still, before the close of the 
 season, arranged in such a manner, that in commemo- 
 ration of the loyalty of a man who sacrificed his life to 
 the strict fulfilment of his engagement, the house may 
 be crowded still, and bring a good round sum ? For I 
 can assure you, that Mr. Weber leaves only a trifle to 
 his widow and two uneducated sons, and that only for 
 the purpose to find some recompense in the generosity 
 of your nation, and — let me add — your king himself, 
 who never gave an answer to his putting the self-same 
 cantata, now brought forward in his concert, at its first 
 appearance, at his majesty's feet. All these things are 
 no secret among us, and will be told over and over
 
 176 WEBER. 
 
 again in our papers. Mrs. Weber confides entirely in 
 your prudence and Lenevolence. She takes her two 
 fondlings, Max and Alexander, in her arms, and 
 presents them to you, that you may be kind to them 
 as you have been to their father. She is fully con- 
 vinced that, by your influence and powerful mediation, 
 something still may be gained for the orphans deprived 
 now of all the aid of a father much celebrated by fame, 
 but not favoured by fortune. The counsellor of the 
 Saxon embassy, now resident in London, Mr. Bieder- 
 man, has much ardour, I understand, to assist and offer 
 his services in anything which may suffer some delay 
 or put a stop to the speedy departure of that excellent 
 man M. Furstenau, Mr. Weber's fellow-traveller and 
 companion. May you have a moment to spare to 
 bestow upon me the favour of a full answer, which I 
 may communicate to Mrs. Weber. I am*," &c. 
 
 Mrs. Weber herself wrote to Sir George Smart in 
 the following terms : 
 
 " Esteemed Sir and friend, — You will attribute it to 
 my overpowering grief for the loss of the best of 
 husbands, if I neglected every duty during the first 
 days after I heard of the mournful event ; if I thought 
 of nothing but my deplorable situation — of no one but 
 my departed lord. Mr. Boettiger has been so good as 
 to convey to you the expressions of my sincere and 
 everlasting gratitude for the incomparable kindness and 
 friendship which you have had for my dear husband ; 
 but my heart prompts me to repeat them myself, 
 
 * This is a precise transcript of the original English.
 
 WEBER. 177 
 
 though I am not able to couch them in the tcnns of 
 your own language. May Almighty God reward you 
 for all you have done for him and for us ! It is the 
 greatest blessing with which my good husband could 
 depart from us, that he acquired such friends for his 
 family. If my boys grow up to be good men, worthy 
 of touching the ashes of such a father, they may, 
 perhaps, personally express to you their gratitude and 
 their mother's, who, by that time, will have long 
 since o^one home to the Father of all. These poor 
 orphans are the only ties remaining between the 
 world and myself. For their sake their father sacri- 
 ficed his life; for them shall I bear the burthen of 
 cheerless days to the end of mine. 
 
 " You will oblige me by assuring Dr. Kind and Mr. 
 Goschen of my best thanks. Weber has frequently 
 mentioned in his letters the kind solicitude of these 
 faithful friends, and my anxiety for him was much 
 relieved by knowing that he was under your and their 
 care. May God grant them also his blessings for their 
 affectionate kindness. We have but feeble words to 
 thank them, but never can we forget how much we are 
 indebted to you and them. — Farewell, honoured friend : 
 May your life be happier than ours ! For ever grate- 
 fully your's, LiNA Von Weber." 
 
 As it appeared from M. Boettiger's letter, that very 
 erroneous impressions existed in Germany respecting 
 Weber's treatment in England, and especially respecting 
 his transactions with the manager of Covent Garden 
 theatre, Sir George Smart put that letter into the hands 
 of M. Furstenau, who, from his intimate knowledge of 
 
 VOL. II. N
 
 178 WEBER. 
 
 everything connected with "Weber's affairs, was in a con- 
 dition to give the fullest information on the subject. 
 M. Furstenau, accordingly, wrote to M. Boettiger the 
 following letter : 
 
 " London, 3rd July, 1826. 
 " My dear Sir and friend, — Your letter to Sir George 
 Smart has been kindly communicated to me by him, 
 and I Avas surprised that you, and, as you say, all Ger- 
 many, have a false view of the circumstances between 
 "Von Weber and C. Kemble. I, the impartial and con- 
 stant companion of Weber, may be permitted to prove 
 to you the contrary, as I knew everything correctly 
 from our late friend himself ; and you will allow me, 
 therefore, my worthy friend, to answer your letter 
 seriatim. It is very praiseworthy in you that you thank 
 Sir George in the name of Madame Von Weber, for his 
 uncommon reception and treatment of the deceased; 
 only I should have liked to see it done more cordially 
 and gratefully, since I can assure you that Sir George 
 considered no sacrifice too great to serve him, not only 
 during his lifetime, but equally so after his lamented 
 death ; the former of which Weber himself has con- 
 stantly acknowledged to me with emotion ; and I can 
 well judge of it, since I often witnessed Sir George's 
 sympathy, which showed his admiration of Weber's 
 talents and virtues. The conduct of Mr. Kemble and 
 his family has been the same ; and I often witnessed the 
 happy and cheerful hours that Weber spent in this circle. 
 Respecting his engagement about Oberon^aad his coming 
 here, the conduct of the managers of Covent Garden has 
 been remarkably kind, having done a great deal beyond 
 their obligation. The sura which Weber received for
 
 WEBER. 179 
 
 this opera, has never been paid by this theatre before ; 
 and, judging of all the circumstances, such as I now 
 know them, the payment has been a very decent one, 
 and could not have been more, since, notwithstanding 
 the great interest inspired by the piece, the expenses 
 which it caused have not yet been repaid, and every 
 one who knows London acknowledges that Mr. Kemble 
 has made rather a disadvantageous bargain. People in 
 Germany think London is paved Mrith gold ; I was once 
 of this opinion myself, and a person must have lived 
 here to be able to judge. M. Von Weber's coming 
 here did not form a part of the contract, but was a pri- 
 vate speculation of his own ; and the theatre, by allow- 
 ing him to direct several times, giving him to earn a 
 sum of 380/., and moreover granting him a benefit, 
 deserves more thanks from Germany than it now re- 
 ceives. M. Von Weber was always highly satisfied 
 with the conduct of the theatre towards him, and said 
 to me repeatedly, ' they are doing their utmost for me ; 
 on which account he also never showed the letter which 
 you wrote to him in English, as it contained so much 
 about this subject, and he saw that he ought not to 
 offend the managers in return for their kind endeavours 
 for him. After his lamented death, too, the promised 
 benefit was given for the advantage of his family, and 
 it was the fault of the public, and not theirs, that nei- 
 ther this nor his concert turned out well. You, and all 
 of us should rather be angry with our own countrymen 
 in London, for their taking so little interest in Weber ; 
 for it wiU be an eternal disgrace to them that they did 
 not fill a concert-room holding no more than 600 per- 
 sons. Indeed this lack of interest went so far, that 
 
 W2
 
 ] 80 WEBER. 
 
 even those to whom we had been recommended, and 
 among these your own friends, showed nothing of that 
 common attention which is expected even from the illi- 
 terate. The Counsellor Winkler will be able to give 
 you some details on this subject from my letters. As 
 to the cantata sent by Weber to the king, it happened 
 — as it generally does when things of that kind are sent 
 to great jiersonages without their permission being pre- 
 viously obtained, — they remain in most cases without 
 an answer. Beethoven experienced the same thing 
 here, I know that Sir George Smart has taken, even 
 during Weber's life, several ineflfectual steps about it. 
 
 " It grieves me much to see these excellent people 
 mentioned in this letter, so deeply hurt by yours ; and 
 I consider it your duty, my very worthy friend, now 
 when you must think diiferently on this subject, to 
 tranquillize their minds immediately by a few heartfelt 
 lines; nor shall I fail, on my return, to do justice pub- 
 licly to the extraordinary interest they have shown." 
 
 On this letter being communicated to Madame Weber, 
 she immediately wrote to Sir George Smart ; — " To my 
 great astonishment and affliction, I have perceived from 
 M. Furstenau's letter, that the letter of Mr. Boettiger 
 has given dissatisfaction both to you, dear Sir, and to 
 Mr. Kemble, instead of containing nothing but expres- 
 sions of gratitude for your kindness. Gracious Heaven ! 
 are we not already miserable enough ? Must our friends^ 
 by their endeavours to serve us, render us still more 
 wretched, and make us appear ungrateful in your eyes ? 
 Convinced as I am of Mr. Boettiger's excellent disposi- 
 tion, I am persuaded that, seeing us in this state of
 
 WEBER. 181 
 
 sorrow, and wishing to assist us to the utmost of his 
 power, his zeal was excited to such a degree as to 
 mislead him in his choice of the best means for that 
 purpose. It is true that my dear husband himself, all 
 our friends, and the public, have been disappointed in 
 their expectations as to the result for Weber of this 
 journey ; and, more especially, no one will believe that 
 Weber really got no more than 500/. for the opera and 
 the copyright of it for all England. Weber seemed to 
 make a secret of it while he was in Germany, perhaps 
 under the impression that his friends might disapprove 
 of the terms he had accepted : he has never complained of 
 it in his letters from London ; he was too proud to do 
 that. Indeed it would be unjust even to murmur at it, 
 as it was at his option to compose for this price or to 
 refuse it. But do not censure too severely his friends, 
 who were so much attached to him, if the idea that ' he 
 risked his life for this sum' renders them rather unjust ; 
 and, more especially, do not blame us, as we have no 
 share in the complaints, and were perfectly ignorant of 
 the contents of that letter. To you, as the friend of 
 my beloved husband, I earnestly recommend the interest 
 of my children. You will watch over it, I am sure, 
 with parental care. You will not allow them to mingle 
 tears of sorrow for themselves with those they shed 
 for the loss of their kind father. Pray speak to Mr. 
 Kemble on my behalf; and request him to prove, on 
 this occasion, by kindness to the children of his friend, 
 the affection he felt for him. Permit me again to 
 assure you of the sincere gratitude with which I remain 
 for ever, your's, Lina Yon Weuer."
 
 182 WEBER. 
 
 From these letters it appears that, though "Weber, 
 while in England, was neglected not only by those who, 
 from their wealth and station, are especially called upon 
 to encourage genius, but also by the public at large, yet 
 the terms of the agreement which brought him to this 
 country were honourably and liberally fulfilled, and his 
 pecuniary emoluments were much more considerable 
 than has been generally supposed. The neglect which 
 he experienced arose partly from his own character, and 
 partly from the quality of his music. He was incapable of 
 the arts by which even genius often stoops to court favour 
 and popularity ; and the English public, though they 
 were beginning to acquire a relish for the German 
 school of music, were not yet in a condition to appre- 
 ciate and enjoy such a work as Oheron. "Were that 
 noble opera to be brought out now, and to be performed 
 as it was then, its fate, we are convinced, would be 
 very different. If thus produced, after so long an inter- 
 val, it would have all the charm of novelty, and would 
 undoubtedly assume that place on our musical stage, 
 which it has never ceased to hold in every part of Ger- 
 many. 
 
 The last account of Weber's family that we have 
 met with is that given by Mr. Moscheles, who visited 
 Dresden in October, 1826, and wrote to a friend in 
 London.* — " I visited poor "Weber's widow, and found 
 her still inconsolable for the loss of her husband. She 
 burst into tears as soon as she saw me. What has been 
 rumoured here, and even in England, as to their not 
 having lived happily together, is, I can assure you, a 
 
 * Harmonicon, Dec. 1826.
 
 WEBER. 183 
 
 calumny. He has left two fine young boys." The en- 
 venomed tongue of detraction none can escape ; but if 
 ever there was a case in which such rumours were utterly 
 groundless and malignant, it was that of Weber. Besides 
 the two boys whom he left, he had three children, who 
 died in their infancy.' 
 
 "Weber's character may be gathered from the foregoing 
 sketch, brief as it is, of the circumstances of his life. 
 He Avas modest, gentle, and affectionate ; possessed of a 
 strong intellect, and much firmness. His mind was 
 highly cultivated, and his knowledge of literature con- 
 siderable. In the earlier part of his life, he exercised his 
 pen, with some distinction, as a critic, in the musical 
 journals of that period ; and left, at his death, an un- 
 finished work, entitled Tonkilnstlers Lehen^ eine Araheske, 
 (the Life of a Composer, an Arabesque,) which was 
 published, after his death, by the guardian of his chil- 
 dren, along with an autobiographical sketch of his life, 
 and fragments of his correspondence. This production, 
 as its title indicates, is written in that fantastic and in- 
 coherent style to which the German literati are some- 
 what too much addicted : there is, too, a vague and 
 misty air about the general speculations, also character- 
 istic of the German literary school, which frequently 
 renders the aim and meaning of the author difficult to 
 come at ; and there is a good deal of laborious and over- 
 strained humour. With all this, there are many acute 
 and profound observations on musical subjects ; and the 
 whole is interesting, as throwing light on the intellec- 
 tual constitution of a great artist. 
 
 If the author of the Freischutz^ Euryanthe^ and 
 Oheron, has not raised himself to the level of Beethoven
 
 184 WEBER. 
 
 and Mozart, he is but a little lower than these mighty 
 masters. His powerful and original genius was 
 strengthened by a profound knowledge of his art, and 
 his mind was enriched and fertilized, (if the expression 
 may be allowed,) not only by a most extensive study 
 of the works of the greatest composers, but by the 
 closest observation of all the phenomena of nature from 
 which musical impressions are derived. From these 
 sources, his strong and active imagination was stored 
 with materials which, as he lived, only became more 
 and more exhaustless. None of his works exhibit such 
 a richness of ideas as Oheron^ a piece that was written 
 when his body, wasted by disease, was sinking into 
 the grave. Though, however, this opera may be 
 considered the greatest of his compositions, containing 
 strains the most tender, romantic, and impassioned, 
 magnificent choral harmonies, and novel and beautiful 
 orchestral effects, — and though, among those who are 
 capable of appreciating the highest efforts of art, it 
 has even exalted the reputation of the author of the 
 Frcischutz^ yet it has ncA^er excited those mingled 
 feelings of amazement and delight with which that 
 nnique production was everywhere hailed. Weber's 
 fancy loved to wander in the regions of enchantment, 
 and to embody the wild and fantastic images of German 
 superstition. " Like Salvator," to adopt the language 
 of the best criticism on the genius of Weber we have 
 yet met with*, "he gloried in delineating the wild 
 and savage aspects of nature, and in wandering, like 
 Beethoven, in her sullen and more gloomy recesses. 
 The romantic turn of his mind, inspired by his early 
 
 • Foreign Quarterly Review, for 1831.
 
 WEBER. 185 
 
 studies, rendered the wild legend of the Fremhiit^ 
 perhaps the most suitable subject on which he could 
 have employed his talents. In depicting, or rather in 
 aggravating, the horrors of the Wolf's Glen, with its 
 fearful omens, and all its unearthly sights and sounds, 
 — in painting the grief and despair of his hero, and the 
 gloomy, demoniacal spirit of the lost and abandoned 
 Caspar, he found full scope for his peculiar talent. 
 Were we to compare him with any of our romance 
 writers, we should say that he possessed, though 
 mingled with and controlled by a finer taste and far 
 greater discretion, a congeniality of soul with Monk 
 Lewis and Mrs. Radcliffe ; and, rich as the dramatic 
 literature of his country is in tales of superstition and 
 diablerie, we think it to be regretted that he did not, 
 at least, furnish us with another romantic opera from 
 that prolific source." Some of the most powerful 
 passages in Oheron aiford striking manifestations of this 
 peculiar turn of the author's genius. Among these are 
 the incantation scene, — " Spirits of air," and the fiend- 
 like chorus, mingled with shouts of laughter, of the 
 evoked demons ; the chorus which forms the finale to 
 the second act ; and the scene in which the hero is 
 tempted by evil spirits. In all these, we recognise in 
 every note the author of the Freischiltz. 
 
 Weber's instrumental accompaniments are stronger 
 than those of Mozart. Whether this species of colour- 
 ing has reached its height, or whether it will continue 
 to increase in strength, it seems hardly possible to con- 
 jecture. Every succeeding generation of dramatic 
 composers has added variety, richness, and force, to the 
 effects of the orchestra; and accompaniments, at first
 
 186 WEBER. 
 
 ttought too predominant and overpowering, have come, 
 in course of time, to be considered tliin and feeble. It 
 is grievous to think tbat the divine harmonies of Mozart 
 himself may share this fate; yet, when once the 
 accompaniments of Weber and Spohr shall be on a level 
 vsdth the generally-established standard of taste, those 
 of Mozart must necessarily be below it. This, indeed, 
 is in some measure the case already ; and the time may 
 come when the present style of orchestral writing shall 
 give way to new forms of instrumentation, as yet 
 undreamed of. There may, indeed, be a point beyond 
 which the tide of innovation cannot reach, and at 
 which it must remain, or begin to ebb. But the 
 history of music affords no indication of any such point ; 
 and the tide still flows on as fast and as steadily as 
 ever. One thing, however, may be said. However 
 endless may be the changes caused by the enlargement 
 of the bounds of harmony, and by discoveries in the use 
 and combination of instruments, those innovations which 
 consist in a mere accession of noise, have already 
 reached their limit. The human tympanum can bear 
 nothing beyond the beating of drums, and braying of 
 trumpets and trombones, introduced by the followers 
 of the Rossini school; and the temporary vogue of 
 a fashion of composing which is a mere cloak for 
 ignorance and incapacity, appears to be passing away.
 
 187 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 MUSIC IN GERMANY IN THE PRESENT CENTURY, CONTINUED. 
 
 SPOHR. HUMMEL. RIES. MOSCHELES. NEUKOMM. — MEYER- 
 BEER. MENDELSSOHN. SCHNEIDER. THE MODERN GERMAN 
 
 SCHOOL. 
 
 There are many German musicians of the present 
 century, whose names have acquired an European 
 celebrity. Among these, the following are the most 
 distinguished. 
 
 Louis Spohr has acquired great fame, both as a 
 performer on the violin, and as a composer. In 1820, 
 on the invitation of the Philharmonic Society, he visited 
 London, and justified, by his performances, the reputa- 
 tion he had gained, of being the first violinist of the 
 age. He was peculiarly distinguished for his pure and 
 delicate tone, the smoothness and facility of his execu- 
 tion, his expression, and the vocal character of his 
 style. As a composer, he was first distinguished by 
 his. concertos, quartets, and other instrumental pieces ; 
 but he afterwards turned his attention to dramatic, 
 and, more recently, to sacred music. By his operas of 
 Faiist, Jessonda, and Zemire and Azor, he has raised 
 himself to the highest rank among the composers for 
 the theatre ; and his oratorios of The Last Judgment 
 and The Crucifionon are not surpassed, in the sublimity 
 of many of their parts, by anything that has appeared 
 since the days of Handel. Though the music of these 
 pieces never descends from the solemnity which belongs
 
 188 JOHANN NEPOMUK HUMMEL. 
 
 to the subjects, yet it possesses great variety of expres- 
 sion, — passing from the most awful and terrible effects 
 to strains of the deepest pathos and melancholy. The 
 words of both of these oratorios have been translated 
 and adapted to the music, in a most judicious and 
 masterly manner, by Mr. Edward Taylor; and their 
 performance, in whole or in part, is now indispensable 
 at our greatest music meetings. Spohr has resided for 
 many years at Cassel. 
 
 JoHANN Nepomuk Hummel, moestro di capella to 
 the grand duke of Saxe "Weimar, has composed several 
 masses, and other pieces of sacred music, which are 
 much esteemed. He has also written several operas, 
 among which his Mathilde von Guise is the most dis- 
 tinguished. His fame, however, rests chiefly upon his 
 compositions for the piano-forte, and his talents as a 
 performer on that instrument. He is not remarkable 
 for the originality of his ideas; but his works are 
 marked by such clearness of design, symmetrical dis- 
 position of parts, expressive melody, and ingenious 
 combination, that, though their details often suggest 
 passing reminiscences of other composers, the beautiful 
 whole is his own. Those among the public performers 
 on the piano-forte who are not in the habit of playing 
 their own music, appear to resort more frequently to 
 the concertos and other concert-pieces of Hummel, than 
 to those of any other composer ; and his trios, for the 
 piano-forte, violin, and violoncello, are within the reach 
 of able amateurs, among whom they are in very general 
 use. As a performer, he bore a considerable resem- 
 blance to John Cramer. The style of both was formed 
 from that of Mozart ; — in Hummel, by education under
 
 JOHANN NEPOMUK HUMMEL. 189 
 
 that great master ; in Cramer, by predilection for, and 
 study of, his works. In each wc recognised the same 
 rapid and brilliant, yet delicate and finished, execution ; 
 the same smoothness and equality of touch, and the 
 same grace and expression in singing (as it may be 
 termed,) a melodious passage : while neither of them 
 carried us away with that impetuous force which belongs 
 to the style of Beethoven. A few years ago, Hummel 
 published a great work of studies for the piano-forte, 
 which must have cost him years of labour, and must be 
 of infinite value to those who have resolution enough to 
 get through it. But its ponderotis bulk, and mass of 
 contents, afford a prospect somewhat similar to that of 
 a journey through the Arabian desert, and are sufficient 
 to terrify any one who has not the dogged jierseverance 
 of a German student. 
 
 Hummel died on the 17th of October, 1837, in the 
 59th year of his age. For the last twenty years he had 
 resided at Weimar, in the capacity of maestro di capella 
 to the grand duke of Saxe Weimar, but was personally 
 well known to the musical world, from his frequent 
 visits to different countries. He was several times in 
 England — the last time in 1833 — when his performance 
 excited the delight and admiration of all who were able 
 to appreciate the beauties of his pure and classical style. 
 He was a man of plain but agreeable manners, and an 
 amiable disposition ; and his uniform prudence and 
 correctness of conduct have enabled him to leave his 
 family in a state of independence. 
 
 When great composers or performers are spoken of 
 as belonging to a certain school, it is not meant that 
 they are imitators of any particular master, but th^tj
 
 190 FERDINAND RIES. 
 
 either from education under that master, or from having 
 been prompted, by congeniality of mind, to a study of 
 his works, they have insensibly acquired some of the 
 chief characteristics of his style, modified by the pecu- 
 liarities of their own genius. In this sense we have 
 mentioned Hummel and Cramer, as being of the school 
 of Mozart ; and, in the same way, Ries and Moscheles 
 may be considered as belonging to the school of Beet- 
 hoven. 
 
 Ferdinand Ries was a disciple of Beethoven. He 
 resided in England from 1813 to 1824. His composi- 
 tions for the piano-forte are, in general, masterly, and 
 full of striking effects; but many of them smell too 
 much of the lamp, and are deficient in the attraction of 
 graceful melody. Among the most elegant of his 
 productions are his Swedish Airs for the piano-forte, 
 with accompaniments for an orchestra, and his Russian 
 Airs for the piano-forte and violoncello. In his public 
 performances, he commanded the attention and admira- 
 tion of the audience by the strength of his hand, the 
 freedom and boldness of his execution, and his vigorous 
 and energetic style. Since his return to Germany, he 
 has produced one or two dramatic pieces, which do not 
 appear to have acquired much popularity. 
 
 Ignatz Moscheles, though not a disciple of Beet- 
 hoven, is deeply imbued with the spirit of that great 
 man, from a profound study of his works. Mr. Moscheles 
 has resided in London for the last fourteen years, and has 
 contributed to the progress of the piano-forte in this 
 country, not only by his public performances, but by 
 the number of excellent players whom he has formed 
 by his instructions, both in the fashionable circles, and
 
 IGNATZ MOSCHELES. 191 
 
 among our professional musicians. In the earlier part 
 of his career, he astonished the musical world by his 
 unbounded powers of execution ; and, having " a giant's 
 strength," he was prompted by his youthful fire to 
 " use it like a giant," But being also a man of strong 
 intellect, and capable of thinking deeply on the princi- 
 ples of his art, he has chastened his style, by using his 
 prodigious power of hand, and rapidity of finger, only 
 as the means of adding to the effect of his great and 
 original conceptions. Moscheles has always been dis- 
 tinguished for the volume of tone he draws from the 
 instrument, his grand and imposing masses of harmony, 
 and his boldness and fire. But with these qualities he 
 now blends a great deal of the delicate softness and 
 tender expression which so peculiarly distinguish the 
 style of Cramer. His compositions are very numerous, 
 and consist chiefly of concertos, sonatas, and other 
 pieces, for his own instrument. They are full of learn- 
 ing, imagination, and feeling, and show how much the 
 inventive faculty is enlarged by an extensive knowledo-e 
 of the classical productions of the art. His different 
 books of Studies for the piano-forte, in particular, are 
 unrivalled in excellence and value. He has lately pro- 
 duced some orchestral works, the last of which, the 
 overture to the German tragedy of Joan of Arc^ is 
 Avorthy of Beethoven himself. 
 
 SiGisMUND Neukomm was a disciple of Haydn, 
 and may be considered as the representative of his 
 school. After having gained a high reputation on the 
 Continent, he came, for the first time, to England in 
 1829; and his reception has been such as to induce
 
 192 NEUKOMM. 
 
 him to pass a large portion of his time in, this country. 
 His greatest works, the oratorios of Mount Sinai and 
 David, have been produced in England. Mount Sinai, 
 originally composed to German words, selected by him- 
 self from the Scriptures, was afterwards adapted by him 
 to an English version of the words, and performed for 
 the first time at the Derby Musical Festival, in 1831. 
 David, the poem of which was originally written in 
 English, was performed at the Birmingham Festival 
 of 1834. Mount Sinai is a noble specimen of the true 
 oratorio style. The manner in which the Command- 
 ments are delivered at intervals from the holy mountain, 
 in the tones of the ancient ecclesiastical canto fertno, 
 accompanied by the sounds of the brazen instruments, 
 is full of awful grandeur; while the more earthly strains 
 which intervene, even those which relate to affections 
 and feelings purely human, though graceful, sweet, and 
 tender, are always in accordance with the solemnity 
 of the subject. From the subject of the oratorio of 
 David, the music necessarily assumes, in many places, 
 a dramatic character; and thus, (as in the Motint of 
 Olives,) there are some scenes, — such as the mutual 
 defiance of David and Goliah, and the scene in which 
 David appears before Saul while under the influence of 
 the evil spirit, — which would require theatrical action 
 to give them their full effect. The triumphal march, 
 too, of the victorious Israelites, with its barbaric clang 
 of warlike instruments, though excellent in itself, 
 recalls, through associations, the sights and sounds of 
 the theatre. The chorusses of this oratorio are models 
 of the ecclesiastical style : they are profound and mas-
 
 MEYERBEER. 193 
 
 terly in their construction, and full of tliose great masses 
 of harmony which impress the mind with the ideas of 
 majesty and power. 
 
 Durinix his residence in England, M. Neukomm has 
 been a prolific writer in various styles. His sacred 
 cantatas, Miriam, The Prophecy ofBabylon^viadi A bsalom, 
 are remarkable for the loftiness of their style, their 
 varied expression, and the fine adaptation of the music 
 to the English poetry. His cantata entitled Napoleon's 
 Midnight Revieio, is a wild and fantastic picture, of 
 which the outline, drawn (as it were) by the voice, is 
 filled up by the richest and most beautiful instrumental 
 colouring that can be imagined. His English songs are 
 very numerous, and many of them are admirable. The 
 popularity of The Sea has hardly ever been surpassed. 
 M. Neukomm is a great organist ; and his last work is 
 a collection of voluntaries for that instrument. 
 
 Meyerbeer is celebrated as the author of several 
 operas, particularly II Crociato in Egitto, one of the best 
 and most successful j^ieces of the present day. Though 
 the composer is a native of Berlin, the music of this 
 opera is more in the Italian than the German style. 
 His French opera of Robert le Diahle was written for 
 the Grand Opera of Paris, where it had an extraordi- 
 nary nm. It was brought out at the King's Theatre, 
 in London, in 1832, with the utmost splendour, and 
 with the original French performers; but it disappointed 
 the public expectation. The music is brilliant and 
 striking ; but the stunning noise which proceeds both 
 from the stage and the orchestra, from the beginninor to 
 the end of an excessively long piece, is quite overpower- 
 ing. His last work of magnitude is also a French 
 
 VOL. II. o
 
 194 MENDELSSOHN. 
 
 opera, Les Huguenots^ the success of which at Paris has 
 been equal to that of Robert le Diable. 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy, (grandson of 
 Moses Mendelssohn, the celebrated Jewish philosopher,) 
 though a young man, has already taken his place 
 among the greatest musicians of the age. Before he 
 was fourteen he had produced several works of sur- 
 prising genius, particularly an opera. The Wedding of 
 Camacho, which was brought out with great success at 
 Berlin. He has been several times in England, where 
 he first became known from several of his instrumental 
 compositions having been performed by the Philhar- 
 monic Society. His beautiful and imaginative overture 
 to The Midsummer Night's Dream, has become a stock 
 piece at our concerts. Another piece, in the form of an 
 overture, called The Isles of Fingal, suggested by a 
 visit, to the Western Islands of Scotland, and written 
 tinder the impressions produced by the grand pheno- 
 mena of nature in those wild regions, is a fine specimen 
 of the descriptive powers of music ; but its dijB&culty 
 and peculiarity of style have prevented it from being 
 so popular as it will one day become. Mendelssohn 
 has latterly turned his attention to sacred music, and 
 has composed many pieces for the church which are in 
 the highest estimation. His last [and greatest work, 
 the oratorio of aS'^. Paul^ after having been received with 
 the utmost admiration in Germany, was performed, 
 under his own direction, at the Birmingham Festival of 
 1837, when its reception by the English public was 
 equally enthusiastic. It is a work of the highest order, 
 fiJI of grandeur and beauty, and uniting the chaste 
 simplicity of the old ecclesiastical writers with the
 
 THE MODERN GERMAN SCHOOL. 195 
 
 graces of modem melody and the richness and variety 
 of modern instrumentation. As an organist and per- 
 former on the piano-forte, Mendelssohn ranks among 
 the greatest masters of the day. 
 
 Among the most eminent German masters of the 
 present age must also be mentioned F. Schneider, 
 whose oratorio of The Deluge^ clothed in an English 
 dress by Mr. Edward Taylor with his usual skill and 
 judgment, has formed a prominent feature at several of 
 our recent festivals. It is a great and beautiful work, 
 more in the style of Haydn than of the more modem 
 school. 
 
 The Gennan school of the present day, though supe- 
 rior to any other, is by no means faultless. No other 
 country can boast of such a constellation of great names 
 as those which have been mentioned ; but, among the 
 numerous and able composers by whom the churches, 
 theatres, and concert-rooms are supplied with a large 
 portion of their music, we still find a predilection for 
 loaded and complicated harmony, a deficiency of 
 flowing and simple melody, and that love of the 
 obscure and mystical which seems to characterize 
 German genius in literature as well as art. TVeber, in 
 the satirical work already noticed. The Life of a Com- 
 poser^ ironically points out the beauties of the modem 
 German school. " Do you imagine," he says, " that, 
 in these enlightened times, when all rules are set at 
 nought, and all difficulties cleared at a bound, a com- 
 poser will, out of compliment to you, cramp his divine, 
 gigantic, and high-soaring fancies ? Thank heaven, we 
 have nothing to do now with regularity, cleamess, 
 keeping, and tmth of expression ; all these things are 
 
 O 2
 
 196 THE MODERN GERMAN SCHOOL. 
 
 left to such old-fashioned masters as Gluck, Handel, 
 and Mozart. No ! — Attend to the materials of the 
 newest symphony which I have received from Vienna, 
 and which may serve as a recipe for this kind of com- 
 position. First, a slow movement, full of short, 
 broken ideas, no one of which has the slightest con- 
 nexion with another; every ten mimites or so, a few 
 striking chords ; then a muffled rumbling on the kettle- 
 drums, and a mysterious passage or two for the violas, 
 all worked up with a due proportion of stops and 
 pauses. Then comes a raging movement, in managing 
 which, the principal consideration is, to avoid following 
 up any particular idea, thus leaving the more for the 
 hearer to make out himself. Sudden transitions, too, 
 from one key to another, should by no means be 
 omitted; nor need this put you out of the way. To 
 run once through the semitones, and drop into that key 
 which is most convenient, is sufficient, and you have a 
 modulation off-hand. The great point is to avoid 
 Everything that looks like a conformity to rule — rules 
 are made for every-day people, and only cramp the 
 freedom of genius." If a stream, however shallow, is 
 made turbid, it is impossible to see its bottom ; and it 
 is thus that these German composers render themselves 
 incomprehensible in order to appear profound. The 
 faults of a school are more easily copied than its beau- 
 ties. There is plenty of this sort of profundity among 
 our own youthful aspirants to fame ; and an overture 
 to a mclo-drama, in one of our theatres, is often as 
 full of mystery as "Weber's pattern symphony from 
 Vienna.
 
 197 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 MUSIC IN ITALY DURING THE PRESENT CENTURY. ZINGARELLI. 
 
 JIAYER. PAER. SPONTINI. FIORAVANTI. — MOSCA. — ROSSINI. 
 
 PRESENT ITALIAN SCHOOL. 
 
 The reputation of the Italian school, at the beginning 
 of this century, was supported by several excellent 
 composers, who filled up the interval between Cimarosa 
 and Rossini. 
 
 The oldest of these is Nicolo Zingarelli, whose 
 numerous works were produced between the years 
 1780 and 1810. None of his operas are now heard in 
 Italy, where indeed, all dramatic music is forgotten, 
 except the ephemeral productions of the day. His 
 most celebrated opera, Romeo e G'mlietta, is still per- 
 formed in Germany and France, and was rendered 
 very popular in this country by Madame Pasta's 
 beautiful personation of the part of Romeo, and her 
 singing of the air " Ombra adorata." Zingarelli is the 
 last of the Italian composers for the church. His 
 oratorio La Distruzione di Gieritsalemnie., composed in 
 1809, is a noble work, written in the classical style of 
 the old ecclesiastical school. 
 
 Simon Mayer, though a German by birth, may be 
 classed among the Italian composers of this period, as 
 he has resided chiefly in Italy, and composed for the 
 theatres of that country. He has been, for more than 
 thirty years, maestro di capella at Bergamo, His dra- 
 matic pieces are very numerous. Those which have
 
 198 PAER. SPONTINI. 
 
 obtained the most extensive popularity, are II Fanatico 
 j)er la Mtisica^ Lodoisica, La Gine'cra di Scozia, La 
 Rosa lianca e la Rosa rossa, and Medea in Corinto. 
 In the last of these pieces, Madame Pasta has achieved 
 her greatest triumph as a tragic actress. 
 
 Ferdinand Paeb is a native of Parma, Among 
 his numerous Italian operas, the most celebrated are 
 Agnese, La Griselda^ Camilla^ SarginOy and / Fuoru- 
 sdti. All of these have been performed in England. 
 Agnese^ in particular, which is founded on Mrs. Opie's 
 tale of The Father and Daughter, vpas rendered very 
 popular by the pow^erful and alFecting performance of 
 Ambrogetti in the character of the Father. The part 
 has since been perfonned by Tamburini, with equal 
 beauty, but in a different style ; his picture of mad- 
 ness being less appalling than that of Ambrogetti, but 
 more melancholy and touching. 
 
 There is much resemblance between Paer's style and 
 that of Mayer. Their melody is Italian, strengthened 
 by German modulation and accompaniment. In the 
 music of both there is much grace and elegance ; it is 
 always judiciously adapted to the character of the 
 scene and the expression of the words ; and it shows a 
 consummate knowledge of orchestral effect. It has 
 few traits, however, of that divine simplicity by which 
 Mozart and Cimarosa work such miracles; and the 
 success of their most popular pieces has been owing 
 more to the tragic powers of certain performers, than 
 to anything very striking in the music. They have 
 great talent, but not high genius. 
 
 Gasparo Spontini, after acquiring considerable re- 
 putation in Italy, went to Paris in 1804, and composed
 
 FIORAVANTI. — ^MOSCA.^ — ROSSINI. 199 
 
 for the French stage his celebrated operas of La Vestale^ 
 Fernand Cortez, and Olimpia. He now resides at 
 Berlin, in the situation of maestro di capella to the 
 King of Prussia, 
 
 FioRAVANTi and Mosca are the composers of several 
 lively comic operas, once very popular, and still resorted 
 to by Italian huffo singers, for the purpose of enliven- 
 ing our concerts. The most remarkable of these are, 
 / Virtuosi ambulanti and Le Cantatrici villane of 
 Fioravanti, and / Pretendenti delusi of Mosca. Besides 
 these, there were a number of composers, — Sabti, 
 Generali, Pavesi, Guglielmi, Pobtogallo, and 
 others, — whose works were popular between the be- 
 ginning of the century and the appearance of llossini. 
 
 Though this distinguished composer is still alive, 
 and, indeed, has not passed 
 
 II mezzo del cammin di nostra vita, 
 yet his name already belongs to musical history. His 
 brilliant career seems to have long since closed ; a new 
 generation of musicians has succeeded him in his own 
 country ; and his works are now looked back to as 
 belonging to a period that is past. It is more than 
 ten years since his biography was made the subject of 
 a considerable volume *, which contains almost all that 
 can be said about him ; his musical history since that 
 time being almost a blank. 
 
 Gioacchino Rossini was bom in 1792, at Pesaro, a 
 small town in the Papal territory, situated on the Gulf 
 of Venice. His father was a third-rate horn-player, 
 and his mother, a woman of great beauty, was a toler- 
 able actress and singer. This couple gained theix 
 
 " Vie de Bossini, par M. de Stendhal. Paris, 1824.
 
 200 ROSSINI. 
 
 livelihood by travelling about the country and per- 
 forming in the diflferent provincial companies, — the wife 
 singing on the stage, and the husband playing in the 
 orchestra. 
 
 When he was seven years old, Rossini's parents 
 removed to Bologna, where he began his musical 
 studies. He was soon able to gain a trifle by singing 
 in the churches, and gradually acquired the art of 
 accompaniment and the rules of counterpoint. la 
 1807, at the age of fifteen, he received some lessons in 
 music from the celebrated professor in the academy of 
 Bologna, Padre Mattel; but these were few, and his 
 volatile disposition made him inattentive to the in- 
 structions of his learned preceptor*. His first essay in 
 vocal music was a cantata called II pianto d'Armonia^ 
 which he produced in 1808 ; and he was immediately 
 afterwards chosen director of the Academy of the Con- 
 cordi, a musical society in Bologna. 
 
 In 1810 and 1811 Rossini composed for the theatres 
 of Bologna and Venice, two or three dramatic pieces, 
 which are forgotten as juvenile productions. In 1812, 
 L'Inganno Felice^ which may be placed at the head of 
 the list of his works, was performed at Venice. This 
 little opera laid the foundation of his fame, which, in 
 the following year, rose at once to its height on the 
 appearance of Tancredi. The susceptible Venetians 
 were charmed with a music so diflferent from anything 
 they had heard, — with its freshness and vivacity, and 
 its noble and heroic tone, so well suited to the subject 
 of the piece — with the graceful and beautiful airs, and 
 the brilliant, but simple accompaniments. It was re- 
 
 • This was told a friend of ours by the Padre Mattel himself.
 
 ROSSINI. 201 
 
 ceived with tumultuous pleasure, and the next day 
 nothing was to be heard in Venice but the airs in 
 Tancredi. From the noble to the gondolier, everybody 
 was singing snatches of " Di tanti palpiti;" and in the 
 very courts of justice the proceedings were interrupted 
 by the audience humming '' Ti rivedrb." The amateurs 
 said in their j oy, that Cimarosa was come back to the 
 world. This charming opera, the first fruits of the 
 author's genius, deserved this enthusiastic reception. 
 It has passed through as severe an ordeal as ever has 
 been undergone by any work of genius. Year after 
 year it has been performed, times innumerable, in 
 every part of Europe, and by singers of every grade ; 
 its airs have been sung unremittingly at every concert 
 and in every musical circle, screamed by boarding- 
 school misses, and ground in barrel-organs about the 
 streets ; hammered by learners on the piano-forte in the 
 shape of pot-pourris and lessons, and danced to at balls 
 as quadrilles; and yet it has never palled on the taste, 
 nor ceased to afford pleasure. And now, when this 
 spring-tide of popularity has necessarily ebbed, and 
 Tancredi has given place to greater novelties, it stands 
 even higher in the cool and settled opinion of the musi- 
 cal world than it did when it engrossed the public 
 attention. 
 
 After Tancredi, Rossini produced, with great rapidity 
 L'ltaliana in Algeri, La Pietra di Paragone, Demetrio 
 6 Polibio, and II Turco in Italia. These pieces were 
 very favourably received in Italy, and supported the 
 reputation of the young composer; but they never 
 became very generally popular. They contain, never- 
 theless, some of Rossini's most beautiful airs ; among
 
 202 ROSSINI. 
 
 which are the fine tenor song, " Languir per una bella," 
 in L' Italiana in Algeri ; " Eco pictosa," in the Pietra 
 del Paragone; the duet, " Questo cor," in Demetrio e 
 Polibio; and the duet, " D'un bel uso di Turchia," in // 
 Turco. In this last piece, too, as well as in L'ltaliana 
 in Algeri, there are several concerted pieces and finales, 
 full of gaiety and comic cfiect. Rossini's next opera, 
 L'Aureliano in Palmira, was composed for the theatre 
 of Milan, in 1814, and had great success at first ; but, 
 like those we have just mentioned, never became gene- 
 rally popular. The celebrated Velluti'performed the prin- 
 cipal character. This singer, whom Hossini had not pre- 
 viovisly heard, covered his airs with such a profusion of 
 ornaments that the composer exclaimed, " Non conosco 
 piu la mia musica" " I don't know my own music." 
 It was this circumstance, it is said, which suggested to 
 Rossini the idea of writing his airs with their embel- 
 lishments, so as to prevent them from being disfigured 
 by the presumption and bad taste of the singers ; but, 
 however richly he himself ornamented his airs, this has 
 not prevented the Davids, and Rubinis, the Grisis, and 
 Malibrans, from loading the very embellishments them- 
 selves with additional ^rituri. 
 
 In 1815, Rossini was appointed director of the music 
 of the theatre of San Carlo, at Naples, under an en- 
 gagement to compose two new operas every year, aud 
 arrange the music of all the operas brought out there ; 
 for which he was to receive twelve thousand francs (five 
 hundred pounds) a year. The first opera which he 
 composed for Naples was Elisabetta Retina d' Inghilterra^ 
 which had great success. The part of Elizabeth was 
 performed by Signora Colbrand, a Spaniard, one of the
 
 Kossixi. 203 
 
 j^reatest actresses and singers of the age, who was tlien 
 in the highest favour at Naples. The noble and impo- 
 sing style of her beauty, set off by an accurate costume 
 of the sixteenth century, which was obtained for her 
 from England, made her a perfect representative of the 
 part ; and her performance of it appears to have been 
 eminently intellectual. The description of it, given by 
 Rossini's biographer, affords a lesson to tragedians in 
 the performance of similar parts. " There was nothing 
 theatrical in it," he says; " no gestures — no conventional 
 tragic attitudes or movements. The queen's immense 
 power, the consequences which a single word of her 
 mouth might bring forth, were read in the beautiful, 
 but sometimes terrible Spanish eyes of the actress. Her 
 look, her deportment, her speech, made it impossible 
 not to feel that this superb woman had, for twenty 
 years, been an absolute queen. It was this oldness of 
 the habits contracted by supreme power, this perfect 
 freedom from any doubt as to the instant obedience 
 which would be paid to the slightest of her wishes, that 
 fonned the principal feature in the perfonnance of this 
 great actress. The few movements which interrupted 
 her habitual tranquillity, seemed forced from her by the 
 violence of her own contending passions, but never 
 from any desire of making herself obeyed. Our greatest 
 tragedians, even Talma himself, make use of violent 
 and imperious gestures in the parts of tyrants. Perhaps 
 this kind of tragic blustering is a sacrifice to the bad 
 taste of the audience ; but, however much it may bo 
 applauded, it is not the less absurd. No man is so 
 sparing of his gestures as an absolute kmg. They are
 
 204 ROSSINI. 
 
 of no use to him, as he is accustomed to see his slightest 
 signs followed by instant obedience to his will." 
 
 Rossini's engagement at Naples subsisted for seven 
 years, during which he produced a number of operas at 
 the theatre of San Carlo. Signora Colbrand continued, 
 during all that period to be the prima donna of that 
 theatre, and to perform the principal characters in his 
 pieces, notwithstanding the decay of her vocal powers, 
 and her consequent decline in the favour of the Neapo- 
 litans. During her previous brilliant career she had 
 gained a large fortune; and Rossini, enamoured either 
 of her personal charms, or of " les beaux yeaux de sa cas- 
 sette" not only was quite satisfied with her false intona- 
 tion in singing his music, but married her before he 
 finally quitted Naples. 
 
 Not being precluded by his duties at Naples from 
 composing pieces for other places, Rossini brought out 
 at Rome, during the carnival of 1816, Torvaldo e 
 Dorliska, and II Barhiere di Simglia. The first of these 
 had little success, and was immediately forgotten ; the 
 other made an impression equal to that produced by 
 Tancredi. 
 
 The drama at Rome is kept under a rigid censorship; 
 and, at this time, several pieces, submitted by the 
 manager of the theatre, had been prohibited on account 
 of certain allusions. The manager, annoyed at these 
 disappointments, proposed the drama of II BarLiere di 
 Simglia, the music of which had been already composed 
 by Paesiello; and it was accepted. Rossini, though 
 never troubled with diffidence, felt this an embarrassing 
 situation, and wrote to the veteran musician, telling him
 
 ROSSINI. 205 
 
 how the matter stood. The old maestro, who seems 
 not to have been altogether without vanity, wrote in 
 reply, that he was delighted with the choice made by 
 the Roman police. Rossini prefixed a modest preface 
 to the book of the words; showed Paesiello's letter to 
 all the dilettanti in Rome; and set to work upon the 
 opera, which he finished in thirteen days. It was per- 
 formjed on the 26th of December, 1816, the first day of 
 the carnival. 
 
 This opera experienced a singular fortune. The first 
 night the audience would scarcely hear it to an end; the 
 second it was applauded to the skies. Unfavourable 
 comparisons were made with some favourite morceaux in 
 Paesiello's opera, and some evident faults were laid hold 
 of. The air sung by Count Almaviea under his mistress's 
 window wanted the exquisite grace and simplicity of 
 Paesiello's melody; and Bosina's first song, the famous 
 " Una voce poco fa," appeared quiteout of character, 
 making her appear in the light of a bold-faced vixen, 
 instead of a modest and simple girl, whom love renders 
 cunning and ready-witted. The beginning of the second 
 act, too, was found tiresome. Notwithstanding these 
 objections, however, (and they are not without founda- 
 tion), the public, on a second hearing, did justice to the 
 beauties of the piece, and were delighted with its bril- 
 liancy, gaiety, and admirable dramatic effect. Like 
 Tancredi, it immediately flew over Europe, and was 
 everywhere received with the same enthusiasm. 
 
 Otello was composed for the theatre of Naples. The 
 drama was clumsily manufactured from Shakspcare's 
 tragedy by the Marquis Berio, a dilettante poet of that 
 city; and it is said that Rossini, who knew something
 
 206 ROSSINI. 
 
 of the original play, had taste enough to see how much 
 it was mangled, and reluctantly undertook the task of 
 ■writing the music of this Italian rifacimento. It was, 
 however, extremely successful, and has been one of the 
 most popular of Rossini's works. The most blundering 
 dramatic treatment of so fine a subject could not deprive 
 it altogether of its striking features; and the music, 
 though very unequal, contains great beauties. The 
 opening chorus of welcome to the victorious general is 
 fall of spirit; and there is much dignity in Othello's 
 first entrance, and his address to the senate. When 
 Desdemona, too, first appears, the duet between her 
 and Emilia is very graceful, and in the manner of the 
 older Italian composers. The Jinale to the first act, 
 which occupies a large portion of it, is the finest part of 
 the opera. The nuptials of Desdemona with Roderigo, to 
 whom she has been betrothed by her father, while she 
 is already, in secret, the wife of Othello, are about to 
 be celebrated; the assembled friends express their joyful 
 congratulations in a chorus, the gaiety of which is con- 
 trasted with the agitation of the bride, and the per- 
 plexity of the bridegroom and father. Othello suddenly 
 enters, and, observing what is passing, proclaims his 
 marriage; and this disclosure produces a scene of con- 
 fusion, dismay, jealousy, and rage. In the concluding 
 scene, there are some pathetic touches: — Desdemona, 
 in her midnight chamber, listening to the distant notes 
 of the gondolier, and singing the simple ballad, " Assisa 
 a pie d'un salice," — the "Song of Willow," which 
 Shakspeare's Desdemona describes as being sung by her 
 mother's maid, poor Barbara. But the music of this 
 opera is, on the whole, too loud and boisterous, both in
 
 ROSSINI. 207 
 
 the vocal parts and the accompaniments; and the hearer 
 is stunned with incessant shouting on the stage, and the 
 din of trumpets, trombones, and all the noisy instru- 
 ments in the orchestra. 
 
 It was in Otello that Rossini first adopted this style 
 of orchestral writing, which he is incorrectly said to 
 have borrowed from the German school. But the ac- 
 companiments of Mozart (the type of that school,) are 
 full of ingenious contrivance and endless variety of 
 combination, while Rossini uses every sort of instru- 
 ment, merely to swell the loudness of a very inartificial 
 harmony. Mozart's singers must be strictly attentive 
 to time, and careful to avoid even an appogiatura that 
 may interfere with the purity of his harmonies. If 
 Rossini's singers have only lungs strong enough to 
 make themselves heard through the noise of the 
 orchestra, they are as free from restraint as their prede- 
 cessors were a century ago. Hence Italian singers in 
 general cannot bear, and cannot sing, the music of 
 Mozart, while they are perfectly at home in that of 
 Rossini. This species of accompaniment, the vices of 
 which have been aggravated by Rossini's successors, 
 has greatly injured the Italian style of singing. It has 
 lost much of the sweetness and smoothness for which it 
 has so long been pre-eminent. Forced to contend inces- 
 santly with such a mass of sound, the females are 
 compelled to scream, and the males to shout; and the 
 incorrect and slovenly harmony which they are accus- 
 tomed to hear from the orchestra renders them by no 
 means fastidious as to the purity of their roulades and 
 embellishments. Rossini's scores are full of gross 
 violations of the most established laws of harmony,.
 
 208 ROSSINI. 
 
 which some people defend, by saying that they are not 
 perceptible to the ear. But take one of these passages, 
 and play it on the piano-forte, and its deformity will at 
 once be apparent, though, in the theatre, the false 
 harmony may be covered by the confusion of many 
 loud instruments*. Is such harmony justifiable, be- 
 cause it is tolerated only when the ear is unable to dis- 
 cover of what it consists? Had such things been ever 
 admitted by Haydn or Mozart, they would have 
 been perceived at once through the pellucid clearness 
 of the score; but are impurities less oifensive in 
 themselves, because the stream which contains them is 
 turbid? 
 
 Rossini's new opera. La Cenerentola, was first per- 
 formed at Rome in 1817. It contains some excellent 
 passages, particularly the famous duet, " Un segreto 
 d'importanza," and the brilliant air, " Non piu mcsta," 
 accompanied by the chorus, which forms the finale ; but, 
 as a whole, it does not hold a high place among the 
 author's works. In the same year. La Gazza Ladra was 
 produced at Milan, and received with the most extra- 
 vagant demonstrations of pleasure. A strong impression 
 was made by the overture, the military cheerfulness of 
 which is so admirable a preparation for the young 
 soldier's joyful return to his family. The deep interest 
 
 ^ In this opera of Otello, tlie trio " Ah, vieni," contains with- 
 in the compass of four bars, and in the vocal parts, a series of 
 Jive perfect fifths in succession, besides three discords of the 
 seventh resolved upwards; and the passage is twice repeated. 
 This jargon passes unnoticed, because the voices are drowned by 
 the orchestra. The chorus, " Qual orror," contains combina- 
 tions equally offensive, but concealed in the same manner.
 
 ROSSINI. 209 
 
 of the story adds greatly to the attraction of this piece ; 
 and the music, though very unequal, contains some of 
 the composer's happiest efforts. He has never written 
 anything more beautiful than the air, " Di piacer mi 
 balza il cor," so expressive of tender and innocent joy. 
 The trio, " Nume benefico," is full of dramatic truth 
 and enhances the effect of the finest situation in the 
 drama. In other parts of the opera, however, there is a 
 strange disregard of musical propriety; as, in the intro- 
 duction of a waltz movement into the proceedings of the 
 court of justice. The interest centres in the parts of 
 Ninetta and • her father ; and, when these are well per- 
 formed, the piece will always please. 
 
 Mose in Egitto was brought out at Naples in 1818. 
 In this piece Kossini has attained an elevation of style 
 which is not to be found in any of his other productions. 
 The chorusses are grand and majestic. The sublime 
 prayer of the Hebrews, when preparing to cross the Red 
 Sea, was an after-thought. Notwithstanding the trans- 
 ports with which the opera, in general, was received, the 
 attempt of the machinist to represent this scene never 
 failed to excite the risibility of the audience. This con- 
 tinued during the first season. . 
 
 " The following season," says M. Stendhal, " this 
 opera was resumed with the same enthusiastic admira- 
 tion of the first act, and the same bursts of laugliter at 
 the passage of the Red Sea. The following day, one of 
 my friends called about noon on Rossini, who, as usual, 
 was lounging in bed with a dozen of his friends about 
 him ; when, to the great amusement of everybody, in 
 rushed the poet Tottola, (the author of the drama,) who, 
 without noticing any one, exclaimed, ' Maestro ! I hav© 
 
 VOL. II. p
 
 210 BOSSINI. 
 
 saved the third act !' ' Well what have you done, my 
 good friend ? ' replied Rossini, mimicking the half- 
 burlesque, half-pedantic manner of the poor son of the 
 muses. ' Depend upon it they will laugh at us as 
 usual.' ' But I have made a prayer for the Hebrews, 
 before the passage of the Red Sea,' said the poet, pulling 
 a bundle of papers out of his pocket, and giving them to 
 Rossini, who immediately began to decypher the scrawl. 
 While he is reading, the poet salutes the company 
 all round, whispering every moment in the composer's 
 ear, ' Maestro, I did it in an hour.' ' What ! in an 
 hour ! ' exclaimed Rossini. — ' Well, if it has taken 
 you an hour to write this prayer, I engage to write the 
 music in a quarter of the time : here, give me a pen and 
 ink.' At these words, Rossini jumped out of bed, seated 
 himself at table en chemise^ and in eight or ten minutes 
 composed this sublime movement, without any piano, 
 and without minding the chatting of his friends. 
 'There,' said Rossini, 'there is your music; — away 
 about your business.' The poet was oflF like lightning ; 
 and Rossini jumped into bed, and joined in the general 
 laugh at his parting look of amazement. 
 
 " The following evening I did not fail to repair in good 
 time to San Carlo. The first act was received with the 
 same transports as before ; but when they came to the 
 famous passage of the Red Sea, the audience showed the 
 usual disposition to risibility. This, however, was re- 
 pressed the moment Moses began the new and sublime 
 air, ' Dal tuo stellato soglio.' This is the prayer which 
 all the people repeat after Moses in chorus. Surprised 
 at this novelty, the pit was all attention. This beautiful 
 chorus is in the minor key ; Aaron takes it up, and the
 
 ROSSINI. 211 
 
 people continue it. Last of all, Elcia addresses the same 
 vows to heaven, and the people answer. At this moment 
 they all throw themselves on their knees, and repeat the 
 same prayer with enthusiasm ; the prodigy is wrought; 
 the sea opens, to present a passage to the people. The 
 last part of the movement is in the major key. It would 
 be difficult to give an idea of the thunder of applause 
 which resounded from every part of the theatre. The 
 spectators leaned over the boxes to applaud, exclaiming, 
 ' Bello ! bello ! che bello !' Never did I behold such 
 an excitement, which was rendered still more striking 
 by its contrast with the previous merry mood of the 
 audience." 
 
 Mose in Egitto was successfully brought out in London, 
 under the title of Pietro L'Eremita, with the alterations 
 necessary to change the subject to the Egyptian capti- 
 vity of Peter the Hermit, the famous originator of the 
 crusades. 
 
 In the spring of 1819, Odoardo e Christina was pro- 
 duced at Venice. It was at first much applauded ; but 
 it was soon discovered that a great part of the music 
 was taken from an opera which had previously been per- 
 formed at Naples without much success. The manager 
 complained bitterly to Rossini of this deception, but was 
 only laughed at by the composer. 
 
 La Donna del Logo was performed at Naples in the 
 same year. Notwithstanding its great merit, and sub- 
 sequent popularity, its reception at first was anything 
 but flattering. Signora Colbrand was by this time com- 
 pletely out of favour, and the public were impatient at 
 her being forced upon them against their inclination. 
 They watched fox an opportunity to hiss, but for some 
 
 p2
 
 212 ROSSINI. 
 
 time none occurred. But at length, the celebrated 
 Nozzari, who personated Roderick Dhu, having to enter 
 from the back of the stage at a great distance from the 
 orchestra, unfortunately pitched his first note (which is 
 a magnificent burst,) somewhat too low ; and this mis- 
 take was visited by a general yell of disapprobation. 
 " Nothing," says Stendhal, " can convey an adequate 
 idea of the fury of a Neapolitan public, when either 
 offended by a false note, or furnished with some good 
 pretext for satisfying an old grudge." Nozzarl's air was 
 followed by the appearance of a number of bards, who 
 came to animate the Scottish troops to battle by the 
 sound of their harps. The chorus of bards is accom- 
 panied by a splendid military march. This representa- 
 tion took place on a gala day ; and the court was not 
 present to put a restraint on the audience. There were 
 a number of young officers in the pit, who had been 
 drinking the king's health, and were in boisterous spirits. 
 One of these gentlemen, at the first sound of the trumpets, 
 began to imitate with his cane the gallop of a horse ; 
 and in an instant the pit was filled with the clatter of 
 five hundred similar imitations. The piece was finished 
 in the midst of confusion ; and Rossini set off the same 
 night for Milan. On the road, and at Milan, he told 
 everybody that the Donna del Logo had been applauded 
 to the skies, and was not a little surprised to find that, 
 after all, he had been telling the truth. On the second 
 night, some improvements were made in the perfonnance; 
 and the public, who began to be ashamed of the manner 
 in which they had treated so beautiful a work, received 
 it with rapturous applause. 
 
 Maometto Secondo was brought out at Naples in 1820,
 
 BOSSINI. 213 
 
 and failed. Three years afterwards It was again pro- 
 duced at Venice, Rossini having undertaken to re-com- 
 pose the second act. The public, by no means satisfied 
 that an opera, previously unsuccessful, had been palmed 
 upon them, and still less so when they found that he 
 had made only a few trifling alterations in it, gave vent 
 to their feelings with a violence truly Italian, and treated 
 both the composer and singers with great indignity. In 
 1826, however, a French version of the piece, under the 
 title of Le Siege de Corinthe, was successfully produced 
 at Paris ; and in this form, but with Italian words, and 
 by Italian singers, it has been repeatedly performed, both 
 at Paris and London, under the title of DAssedio di Co- 
 rinto. Though, upon the whole, an inferior work, yet it 
 possesses considerable merit. 
 
 Zelmira, first performed at Naples in 1822, contains 
 some of Rossini's finest music ; and its comparative 
 want of success can be ascribed only to the feebleness 
 and absurdity of the drama. A dramatic poet in Italy, 
 is generally a miserable appendage to a theatre ; an ob- 
 ject of contumely and ridicule. Of this class seems to 
 liave been the author of the libretto of Zelmira — the 
 worthy Signer Tottola, whom we had occasion to men- 
 tion a little while ago. If the libretto of a modern Italian 
 opera is at all tolerable, it is when the poet has luckily 
 stumbled upon some subject, the capabilities of which 
 for dramatic efiect he has not been able to destroy. The 
 Neapolitans, moreover, were completely weary of Signora 
 Colbrand, and not disposed to receive anything with 
 favour in which she bore a part. 
 
 The last opera composed by Rossini before he left 
 Italy, (to which he has never returned,) was Semiramide,
 
 214 ROSSINI. 
 
 first produced at Venice in 1823, This is a great but 
 very unequal work. Some of tlie chorusses and concerted 
 pieces are magnificent, and there is much grandeur in 
 the whole of the music given to the part of Semira- 
 mis, — a part which, when performed by a singer who ig 
 at the same time a great tragic actress, such as Madame 
 Pasta, always makes a strong impression on the audience. 
 But the music is full of reminiscences, not only of 
 Rossini himself, but of Mozart and other composers ; and 
 the pseudo-GeTman style of accompaniment is carried 
 to such an excess, that the ear is absolutely stunned by 
 the unremitting noise of the orchestra. 
 
 Rossini arrived in London in the beginning of the 
 opera season of 1824, in consequence of an engagement 
 at the King's Theatre, by which he was to be composer 
 and director of the music, to superintend the perform- 
 ance of his own operas, and to produce a new one for 
 the theatre. Madame Colbrand Rossini (whom he had 
 lately married) was also engaged as prima donna. The 
 theatre opened with Zelmira, but it failed, and Madame 
 Colbrand was sa coldly received, that she did not re- 
 appear. Semiramide was afterwards brought out, with 
 Madame Pasta as the Assyrian queen. The season was 
 attended with enormous loss; and Rossini left England 
 without having fulfilled his engagement to compose an 
 opera. His residence in London, however, was a very 
 profitable one to himself. He was just the kind of man 
 to be the fashionable lion of the day. His music was 
 universally popular; he was himself a first-rate comic 
 singer; and his manners and address were calculated 
 to gain the favour of the gay and the courtly. The 
 aristocracy, from royalty downwards, were profiise in
 
 ROSSINI. 215 
 
 their invitations and attentions; and he left England 
 loaded with solid proofs of their liberality. His regular 
 fee for attending a private mixsical party was fifty 
 guineas, but those who invited him seldom contented 
 themselves with giving him that sum. As if this were 
 not enough, two subscription concerts were set on foot 
 for him, to take place at Almack's rooms; the price of 
 a ticket admission to both to be three guineas, and 
 none to be admitted except such as were approved of 
 by lady patronesses^ appointed to guard the assembly 
 from the approach even of that portion of the profanum 
 xidgus who were able and willing to give three guineas 
 for a couple of concerts ! This, however, was too much, 
 even for the extravagance of our heau-monde ; and the 
 l^rice of admission was reduced to a guinea for each 
 concert. The concerts were attended by a crowd of 
 fashionables, who had the gratification of hearing Ros- 
 sini's most hackneyed songs, sung by the vocalists 
 whom they heard every day, and accompanied by a 
 pitiful band of twenty performers. They, however, 
 could boast of having heard two or three comic songs 
 and ducts, sung by the great maestro himself. What 
 a contrast to the treatment experienced, two years 
 afterwards, by the modest and high-souled Weber! 
 
 The extravagance of Rossini's admirers in England 
 had the natural effect of exciting a feeling of hostility 
 towards him; he was violently attacked, and his cha- 
 racter, manners, and habits, grossly misrepresented in 
 different journals and other publications. Among other 
 stories told to his prejudice, there was one which was 
 so often repeated, and gained such currency, that it is 
 proper to mention it, for the purpose of contradiction.
 
 216 KOSSINI. 
 
 It was said, that Rossini, having been invited to a 
 musical party given by the king, at Brighton, con- 
 ducted liimself w^ith a degree of arrogance which dis- 
 gusted his majesty; and that, in particular, on being re- 
 quested to sing towards the close of the entertainment, 
 he refused very cavalierly, telling the king, who had 
 politely made the request, that they had had enough of 
 singing for one evening. This is wholly untrue. Ros- 
 sini, on making his appearance, was received with great 
 courtesy by the king, who told him that he should hear 
 some music by a foreign composer who was much 
 esteemed in England; and, on a signal from his 
 majesty, his unrivalled band of Avind instruments 
 played the overture to La Gazza Ladra. Rossini 
 received this graceful compliment in the manner which 
 became him, and expressed himself charmed with the 
 performance of his music. In the course of the evening 
 he sang two songs which required much exertion, in a 
 manner which delighted his audience; but, when the 
 king desired to hear him in a third song, he excused 
 himself by saying that his voice was so much exhausted 
 by his last effort, that he should be found incapable of 
 giving further gratification to such judges as those 
 before whom he had the honour of performing; — an 
 excuse, which, instead of giving offence to liis royal 
 host, was readily and graciously received. Rossini had 
 too much good sense, and had mingled too much with 
 the world, to be ignorant of his precise position in 
 society, or to be guilty of any solecisms in good manners. 
 Every account of him which is entitled to credit, con- 
 curs in representing his deportment as uniformly correct 
 and his manners as gentlemanlike and agreeable : and.
 
 ROSSINI. 217 
 
 if he was absurdly courted and extravagantly rewarded, 
 it is hardly fair to lay to his charge the folly of a 
 frivolous crowd who endeavoured to gain fashion and 
 tclat by exhibiting themselves as his admirers and 
 patrons. 
 
 Since that time Rossini has resided chiefly at Paris. 
 He was for some years director of the Italian opera, 
 which, it is said, did not prosper under his manage- 
 ment. At the time of the coronation of Charles the 
 Tenth, he composed the music of a slight joiVc^ de cir- 
 constance, called // Viaggio de Bheims ; and afterwards 
 produced a French opera, called Le Comte Orr/, chiefly 
 taken from the above piece. About nine years ago he 
 brought out his admirable French opera, Guilleaume 
 Tell, the success of which, it might have been imagined, 
 would have excited him to further exertion. But he 
 appears, ever since that time, to have lived in a state of 
 total inactivity. 
 
 The present Italian composers are mere imitators of 
 Rossini, and are much more successful in copying his 
 defects than his beauties. They are, like him, full of 
 mannerism ; with this difference, that his manner was 
 his otcn, while theirs is his. They occasionally produce 
 pretty melodies, a faculty possessed, to some extent, 
 by every Italian composer, however low his grade; but 
 in general their airs are strings of common-place 
 passages, borrowed chiefly from Rossini, and employed 
 without regard to the sentiment and expression required 
 by the scene. Their concerted pieces are clumsy and 
 inartificial; and their loud and boisterous accompani- 
 ments show a total ignorance of orchestral composition. 
 This general description applies to them all. Pacini,
 
 218 PRESENT ITALIAN SCHOOL. 
 
 Mekcadante, Bellini, and Donizetti are all alike — • 
 ^''fortem Gi/an, forte'inque Cloanthum" — and have not a 
 single distinctive feature. 
 
 The Italian vocal performers retain their pre- 
 eminence, and form a constellation of artists who have 
 perhaps never been surpassed in genius and physical 
 power. Among these was Madame Malibran;* and 
 there are now Signora Grisi, and Signors Rubini,- 
 Tamburini, and Lablache. But the style even of 
 these great vocalists is vitiated by the music they are 
 accustomed to sing. As they cannot delight and aflfect 
 their hearers by singing airs destitute of beauty and 
 expression, they resolve to astonish by displays of voice 
 and execution: and they find this expedient succeed in 
 gaining applause; for the vulgar, great as well as small, 
 are fond of being astonished. Sound musical taste, 
 however, is gaining ground everywhere but in Italy; 
 and the composers and singers of that country, unless 
 they follow the progress of improvement, will, in all 
 probability, soon find no market for their talents 
 beyond the Alps. 
 
 "Were it not for the name of Paganini, Italy could 
 hardly be said to possess, at present, any instrumental 
 music. He, indeed, is himself a host. Notwithstand- 
 ing the tricks, caprices, and eccentricities in which he 
 indulges, he is certainly, in power of execution, richness 
 of fancy, grace and beauty of style, and impassioned 
 expression, the greatest violinist of the age. The im- 
 pression made in England by his wonderful and most 
 
 * The lamented death of this lady, at the termination of the 
 Manchester Festival in 181^6, took place since the first edition of 
 this work was pubUshed.
 
 PRESENT ITALIAN SCHOOL. 219 
 
 beautiful performances can never be effaced from the 
 memory of those who heard him. Thouojh he has 
 been listened to, in all parts of Europe, with an enthu- 
 siasm which never suffered any abatement, yet it is a 
 considerable time since he appeared in public. We 
 lament to learn that the bad state of his health is the 
 cause of his silence.
 
 220 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 MUSIC IN FRANCE DURING THE LAST AND PRESENT CENTURIES. 
 
 RAMEAU. GRETRY. GLUCK. PICCINI. CHERUBINI. PRESENT 
 
 STATE OF MUSIC IN FRANCE. 
 
 The French have now an excellent school of music, 
 but it is of very modem date. Previous to the begin- 
 ning of the last century, Lulli is almost the only name 
 that deserves to be recorded in French musical history; 
 and when, besides him, we mention Couperin and 
 Marchand, who were great organists, and Leclair, a 
 distinguished performer on the violin, we include 
 almost every eminent name that preceded the celebrated 
 Rameau. 
 
 Jean Philippe Rameau was bom in 1683; and, 
 though he became a very voluminous and popular dra- 
 matic composer, it is a remarkable circumstance that 
 he was fifty years of age when he produced his first 
 opera. In his younger days, his musical pursuits 
 were directed chiefly to the theory of the art; and the 
 system contained in his Traite de V Harmonie^ published 
 in 1722, was almost universally followed during the 
 last century. This system was more fully developed in 
 another work, entitled Demonstration du Principe de 
 VHarmonie, published by him in 1750; and it was 
 afterwards exhibited in a clearer and more philosophi- 
 cal form by the celebrated D'Alembert, in his Elemens 
 de Mtisique, published in 1752. The fallacy of this 
 system, and its worse than inutility in its application
 
 RAMEAU. 221 
 
 to practice, are now so generally recognised, that any 
 account of it has become unnecessary. 
 
 Rameau's first opera, Hippolite et Aricie, which ap- 
 peared in 1733, made a great impression on the public, 
 and caused a violent feud between the partisans of 
 Lulli and those of Rameau. His music was much more 
 learned, and rich in harmony, than that of his prede- 
 cessor; but his airs were in a style which could be 
 tolerated only by a French ear of those days. They, 
 however, remained unrivalled in public favour for more 
 than forty years. 
 
 Soon after Rameau had overcome the partisans of 
 Lulli, he had to encounter an attempt to introduce 
 Italian music. In 1752 an Italian company appeared 
 at Paris, and performed Pergolesi's Serva Padrona in 
 the Opera-house. This delicious burletta made many 
 proselytes to Italian music ; and another feud, more 
 violent than the former, commenced. The literati en- 
 gaged in the warfare ; numerous pamphlets were written 
 on both sides, among which was Rousseau's masterly 
 Lettre sur la Mtisiqice Frangaise, in which he espoused, 
 with great eloquence and force, the cause of the Italian 
 school. By way of answer, Rousseau was burnt in 
 effigy at the Opera-house door. After a violent strug- 
 gle, which lasted two years, the Italian performers were 
 driven from Paris ; an event triumphantly recorded in 
 the periodical publications of the day. 
 
 In 1753, the appearance of Rousseau's Z>e«t/i du Vil- 
 lage, the airs of which are in a pleasing ballad style, 
 began to give the French a taste for unaffected and 
 flowing melody. Duxi (who has been already men- 
 tioned as the rival of Pergolesi,) was the first Italian
 
 222 GRETEY. 
 
 composer who was successful in France. In 1758 lie 
 began to produce a series of French comic operas, 
 which became popular. Philidor and Monsigny com- 
 posed a number of comic operas, in the Italian style, 
 which still further influenced the national taste ; and 
 the afiections of the French were at last weaned from 
 Rameau by the operas of Gretry. 
 
 This pleasing composer was bom at Liege in 1741. 
 After receiving the best musical education which that 
 place afforded, he went, at the age of eighteen, to 
 Rome, where he pursued his studies with great ardour 
 for eight years. He then went to Paris, and, in 1768, 
 produced his first opera, Le Huron^ founded on Vol- 
 taire's tale of that name, and written by Marraontel. 
 It was received with great applause ; and his second 
 piece, Lucile^ was still more successful. His popula- 
 rity soon became unbounded ; and he produced about 
 thirty comic operas, which, for a time, excluded almost 
 all other miisic from the French theatres. Two of 
 them, Zemire et Azov, and Richard Coeur de Lion, were 
 adapted to the English stage, and rendered Gretry's 
 name popular in this country. At the time of the Re- 
 volution, he entered warmly into the spirit of the time, 
 and composed several of those airs which contributed 
 so much to heighten the excitement of the people. He 
 was, however, a man of an amiable and irreproachable 
 character, and was generally beloved and respected. 
 He died in 1813. 
 
 The airs in Gretry's operas are simple, elegant, ex- 
 pressive, and remarkable for the care Avith which the 
 music is adapted to the meaning and accent of the 
 poetry. To this department of his art he paid the
 
 GLUCK. PICCIXI. 223 
 
 utmost attention, and the observations upon it in Ms 
 JEssais sur la Musvque'^ deserve the consideration of 
 every vocal composer. His orchestral accompaniments 
 are thin, but effective ; and his best operas may still be 
 listened to with much pleasure. One of them, in par- 
 ticular, La Caravane du Caire, continues to be a stock- 
 piece at the French opera. 
 
 In 1774, Gluck arrived in Paris, recommended to the 
 young queen by her brother, the Emj^eror Joseph, He 
 began his career in France with Orphee, a translation of 
 his Italian oj^era of Orfeo; and this was followed by 
 Iphigenie en Aulide^ Alceste, and Armide. These pieces 
 were rapturously received by the Parisians, on account 
 of their forcible, energetic, and dramatic character. They 
 were applauded, too, by the partisans of the French 
 school, as being more in the French than the Italian 
 style. The cry was, that Gluck had revived the music 
 of the ancient Greeks, and was the only musician in 
 Europe who knew how to express the passions ; and 
 the journals were filled with his praises, and with 
 violent attacks on the Italian music, when Piccini arrived 
 in 1776. 
 
 The partisans of the Italian school immediately rallied 
 round Piccini. Mannontel, who, m consequence of his 
 predilection for the Italian style, had warmly supported 
 Gretry, for whom he had written several pieces, now 
 detennined to do a similar service to Piccini. He 
 resolved to take Quinault's beautiful operas, clear them 
 of episodes and superfluous details, and modernize their 
 
 * This work (published at Paris in 1797)} though somewhat 
 disfigured by vanity and egotism, contains a great deal of valuable 
 and interesting matter. The author's autobiography is delightful.
 
 224 picciNi. 
 
 form by the addition of airs, duets, monologues in ac- 
 companied recitative, and chorusses, and then get them 
 set to music by Piccini. In this manner he re-com- 
 posed the opera of Roland^ and set Piccini to work upon 
 it. The Italian composer did not know a word of 
 French ; and Marmontel, in his ardour, undertook the 
 task of teaching him. The account he gives of their 
 course of study is interesting and instructive. " Ima- 
 gine," says Marmontel, in his Memoirs, " the trouble I 
 had, in giving these lessons. Line by line, word by 
 word, I had everything to explain ; and when he had 
 laid hold of the meaning of a passage, I recited it to 
 him, marking the accent, the prosody, and the cadence 
 of the verses. He listened eagerly ; and I had the 
 satisfaction to see that what he heard was carefully 
 noted down. His delicate ear seized so readily the 
 accent of the language and the measure of the poetry, 
 that, in his music, he never mistook them. It was an 
 inexpressible pleasure to me to see him practise, before 
 my eyes, an art, of which I had, till then, no idea. His 
 harmony was in his mind. He wrote his air with the 
 utmost rapidity ; and when he had traced its design, 
 he filled up all the parts of the score, distributing the 
 traits of melody and harmony just as a skilful painter 
 would distribute, on his canvas, the colours, lights, and 
 shadows of his picture. When all this was done, he 
 opened his harpsichord, which he had been using as 
 his writing-table ; and I then heard an air, a duet; a 
 chorus, completed in all its parts, with a truth of ex- 
 pression, an intelligence, a unity of design, a magic in 
 the harmony which delighted both my ear and my 
 feelings."
 
 picciNi. 225 
 
 Holand "wsiS performed with great success, and obtained 
 the admiration of all, except the determined partisans 
 of Gluck. A furious war raged between the two par- 
 ties. The literati ranged themselves on either side. 
 The press groaned, and the journals teemed, with 
 pamphlets and dissertations, not more remarkable for 
 zeal and violence, than for entire ignorance of the sub- 
 ject. The friendly intercourse of society was limited 
 to the adherents of the same party ; and no door was 
 opened to a visiter till it was known whether he was 
 a Gluckist or a Piccinist. It was fortunate, however, 
 for the cause of music, that each of these eminent men 
 had partisans sufficient to afford him effectual support ; 
 and hence the works of both were successfully per- 
 formed. 
 
 In consequence of the success of Roland, Piccini be- 
 came a favourite at court; though his court favour 
 seems to have profited him but little. "He went regu- 
 larly twice a week to Versailles," says his biographer, 
 M. Ginguene, "to give singing lessons to the queen, 
 who treated him very satisfactorily. Respectful treat- 
 ment, it is true, was all his salary ; and, for nearly a 
 year, it cost him, twice a week, ten or twelve francs 
 for carriage-hire, for which he was never reimbursed. 
 It is true, likewise, that he presented to the queen a 
 score of Roland, magnificently bound, and obtained her 
 permission to present copies to the king, the princes his 
 brothers, and all the princesses of the family ; and that 
 the same honour was subsequently done to all his other 
 scores, though he was never even asked how much their 
 beautiful bindings had cost him." 
 
 During the height of the musical feud between the 
 
 VOL. II. * d
 
 226 picciNi. 
 
 partisans of Gluck and Piccini, an attempt was made 
 by Berton, at that time director of the opera, to ap- 
 pease the parties by reconciling the chiefs. Accord- 
 ingly (says Ginguene) he gave a great supper, where 
 Gluck and Piccini, after embracing each other, were 
 placed side by side. They conversed during the evening 
 with great cordiality. After supper, Gluck, like a true 
 German, a little warmed by wine, began to talk very 
 frankly, and so loud as to be heard by all the company. 
 " The French," he said, " are a good sort of people, but 
 they really amuse me ; they want to have songs com- 
 posed for them, and yet they know nothing about 
 singing. My dear friend, you are a man celebrated 
 throughout Europe. You think only of supporting 
 your reputation : you compose beautiful music for 
 them, — ^but what are you the better for it ? Believe 
 me, you must think here of making money, and nothing 
 else." Piccini politely replied, that the example of M. 
 Gluck proved that it was possible to attend to one's 
 fame and fortune at the same time. " They parted," 
 adds Ginguene, " as they met, and there is no doubt 
 that their mutual expressions of friendship were sin- 
 cere. Yet the war, of which they were the cause, did 
 not cease ; and it may truly be said of them, as has 
 been said of political leaders, that they themselves 
 were the men who seemed least to belong to their 
 parties." 
 
 Piccini's second opera, Atys, was not less favourably 
 received than Roland. But in his next essay, in which 
 he was brought into direct collision with his rival, he 
 was not so fortunate. The director of the opera had 
 furnished each of the composers with a poem oo the
 
 PICCINI.— CHERUBINI. 227 
 
 same subject, " Iphigenia in Tauris." The piece given 
 to Gluck was full of the horrors which he could express 
 with so much energy ; Piccini's was an inferior pro- 
 duction, and of a softer character. When they came 
 to be performed, Piccini's music appeared slight and 
 feeble, in consequence of the strong impression which 
 had been made by that of Gluck. This comparative 
 failure, however, was compensated by the triumphant 
 success of Didon, the poem of which was written for 
 Piccini by Marmontel. 
 
 The rivalry of these great musicians, and even the 
 feud which it occasioned, were ultimately favourable to 
 the progress of French taste. The feud passed away ; 
 while the public, from hearing the finest specimens of 
 the German and Italian school, became more and more 
 capable of feeling and appreciating the beauties of both. 
 From that time to the present, an uninterrupted series 
 of distinguished composers, both Italian and German, 
 have devoted their talents to the French lyric theatre, 
 and their labours have been successfully emulated by 
 native artists. Among the foreign composers, the most 
 distinguished are, Sacchini, Winter, Spontini, Rossini, 
 and Meyerbeer, all of whom have already been men- 
 tioned ; and Cherubini, to whom the French school is 
 especially indebted for its present excellence. Though 
 born and educated in Italy, this great musician is na- 
 turalized, by long [residence, in France, where he has 
 produced his celebrated operas of Les Deux Journees^ 
 Lodoiska, Elisa, and Anacreon^ and several siiblime 
 compositions for the church ; and where his exertions 
 have contributed to the formation of one of the finest 
 institutions for musical education in Europe. Among 
 
 «2
 
 228 MODERN FRENCH SCHOOL. 
 
 the native dramatic composers, the most eminent are 
 Mehul, (the favourite pupil of Gluck,) Berton, 
 Catel, Le Suetjr, Krectzer, Boieldieu, and Auber, 
 all of whom have produced works worthy to vie with 
 those of their Italian and German rivals, Boieldieu, 
 whose death took place in 1 834, has produced a greater 
 number of popular pieces than any composer since 
 Gretry. The most fashionable French composer of the 
 present time is Auber, the author of Masaniello, Fra 
 Diavolo, and other well-known pieces. 
 
 The excellence of the French school of composition is, 
 as yet, almost confined to dramatic music. In church 
 music it possesses nothing but a few productions of 
 GossEC, Le Sueur, and Cherubini ; and France does 
 not appear to have given birth to a great organist since 
 the days of Couperin and Marchand. 
 
 The late M. Choron gives the following account of 
 the present state of cathedral singing in France. " The 
 French chapel-masters understand so little of canto 
 ferino^ that I have seen the most experienced of them 
 (in their own opinion) mistake the tone of the chant. 
 And besides, writing this sort of music is not taught 
 in France, but they practise instead, in the cathedrals, 
 an extemporary harmony, wliich is called chant sur le 
 livre. To give some idea of it, imagine fifteen or 
 twenty singers of every description of voices, from the 
 bass to the highest soprano, singing as loud as they can 
 bawl, each according to his own fancy, without either 
 rule or method, and making every note in the scale, 
 both diatonic and chromatic, heard at the same time 
 with the plain chant, which is performed by harsh and 
 discordant voices; you will then have some idea of
 
 MODERN FRENCH SCHOOL. 229 
 
 what is called in France chant sur le livre. But what 
 will be thought still more incredible is, that there are 
 choral precentors and chapel-masters, who are so de- 
 praved in their taste, as to admire and encourage this 
 horrid mockery of music in their churches." The music 
 of the mass, too, seems to have lost almost every 
 vestige of the old ecclesiastical gravity; it being no 
 uncommon thing to hear the fashionable opera airs 
 introduced into this part of the service*. 
 
 Neither is the French school distinguished for com- 
 posers of instrumental music. The only name of emi- 
 nence in this department, is that of Onslow, whose 
 quartets and quintets are ranked, by many competent 
 judges, immediately after those of Haydn, Mozart, and 
 Beethoven. The works of Handel, however, and other 
 German and Italian ecclesiastical writers, as well as 
 the orchestral compositions of the Germans, are now 
 regularly studied and admirably performed. The 
 French can boast of a multitude of great instrumental 
 performers, particularly on the violin. The names of 
 Kreutzer, Baillot, Rode, Lafont, and De Beriot, 
 attest the excellence of the French school in this 
 respect. They are rich, too, in didactic works on music. 
 The various treatises of Choron, Reicha, and Catel, 
 
 * The following paragraph is from the Gazette Musicale de 
 Paris: — " Toutes le cddbritds de la musique assLstaient, le jour 
 de la Toussaint, a Saint Roch, pour entendre une messe d'une 
 composition nouvelle ; I'^glise etait pleine au point qu'on ne 
 pouvait plus se remuer. On a remarqu^ im Credo, arrange sur 
 les diffdrents motifs de nos operas les plus en vogue. — D^cidem- 
 ment il faudra avoir sa chaise a Saint Roch comme on a sa loge 
 aux Italiens ! "
 
 230 MODERN FRENCH SCHOOL. 
 
 on the science of harmony and every branch of compo- 
 sition, and the books of instruction for singers and per- 
 formers on all instruments, drawn up under the direction 
 of the Conservatory, are in general use, not only in 
 France, but in every other country where music is cul- 
 tivated.
 
 231 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE ENGLISH GLEE. PRmCIPAL GLEE COMPOSERS. ENGLISH 
 
 DRAMATIC MUSIC DURING THE PRESENT CENTURY. 
 
 The glee may be considered as peculiar to England. 
 Other countries may afford scattered specimens of this 
 description of music, but it is in this country only that 
 it has engaged the attention of the most distinguished 
 composers. Almost every English musician of eminence 
 has written glees; and men of great genius have 
 devoted themselves exclusively to their production. 
 Hence we are in possession of a body of vocal harmony, 
 which furnishes one of the most elegant and refined of 
 our social recreations. 
 
 The word glee^ as indicating a particular form of 
 musical composition, appears to have been first used in 
 a work published by Playford, in 1667, consisting of 
 *' Dialogues, Glees, Ayres, and Ballads, of two, three, 
 and four voices." Bumey defines a glee, in its original 
 sense to be, " a song of three or more parts, upon a gay 
 or merry subject, in which all the voices begin and end 
 together, singing the same words :" and he adds,— 
 " when subjects of fugue or imitation occur, and the 
 composition is more artificial than simple counterpoint, 
 it less resembles a glee than a madrigal, which it 
 might with more propriety be called, if the words arc 
 serious; for a serious glee seems a solecism, and a 
 direct contradiction in tenns : the word glee, in Saxon, 
 German, and English dictionaries, ancient and modem,
 
 232 THE ENGLISH GLEE. 
 
 implying mirth, merriment, and, in old authors, mtisic 
 
 itself." This definition of the glee, in its oldest form, 
 
 establishes the distinction between the cheerful glee 
 
 and the catch. Both are songs in three or more parts, 
 
 upon gay subjects ; but, in the one, the voices begin 
 
 and end together, while, in the other, they take up 
 
 their parts in succession, and the words generally 
 
 receive some quaint or ludicrous meaning from the 
 
 manner in which they are broken and caught up by 
 
 the difi"erent singers. But Burney overlooks the true 
 
 distinction between the serious glee and the madrigal. 
 
 The madrigal was intended to be sung by the whole of 
 
 a convivial party, or as many as could make any use of 
 
 the music-books, which were handed round the table ; 
 
 and this, which Morley describes as the original mode 
 
 of performing madrigals, has been continued to the 
 
 present time by the Madrigal Society. When pieces 
 
 were composed, in order to be sung by two, three, or 
 
 four persons, for the entertainment of the rest of the 
 
 company, they were called dialogues, catches, and 
 
 glees, or two, three, or four-part songs. This species 
 
 of vocal harmony of a single voice to each part, at first 
 
 chiefly confined to subjects of a lively character, and of 
 
 a simpler construction and more rhythmical melody 
 
 than the madrigals, was found by degrees to be adapted 
 
 to a greater range of subjects, and capable of more 
 
 elaborate treatment ; and hence the apparent anomaly 
 
 of the serious glee. But a serious glee could not with 
 
 propriety be called a madrigal. There is this essential 
 
 distinction between them, that the one is a piece of 
 
 choral harmony, while the other is for single voices. 
 
 A madrigal might (though with diminished effect) be
 
 THE ENGLISH GLEE. 233 
 
 sung by single voices ; but a glee could not be sung as 
 a chorus. The apparent solecism in the phrase, "serious 
 glee," is one of a thousand instances of a word coming 
 to receive an acceptation different from its original 
 meaning. Glee, as a musical term, means a piece for 
 three, four, or five single voices, unaccompanied by any 
 instrument, without reference to the subject of the 
 words. As this species of composition was more and 
 tmore cultivated, the subjects became more various; 
 and we have glees of a pathetic, grand, and (as in the 
 case of Webbe's " When winds breathe soft," and 
 Callcott's " O snatch me swift,") even devotional 
 character. The style of the glee, of course, depends 
 on the subject of the words ; but it may be remarked 
 in general, that it is a medium between the style of the 
 church and that of the theatre ; the serious glee never 
 being so grave as the anthem, nor the cheerful glee so 
 light as the theatrical chorus or concerted piece. A 
 glee may, without impropriety, be accompanied on the 
 piano-forte, for the sake of facilitating its performance 
 and sustaining the pitch of the voices; but, if the 
 accompaniment is florid, or essential to the harmony or 
 continuity of the music, then the piece is not properly 
 a glee (though sometimes called so) but a vocal trio, 
 quartet, or quintet. We even find, in our operas, 
 concerted pieces accompanied by the orchestra, called 
 glees ; but this use of the term is quite erroneous. 
 
 Having already noticed the principal composers for 
 the church and the theatre who also cultivated glee 
 writing, it remains to speak of some of the most dis- 
 tinguished of those who have chiefly or exclusively 
 devoted themselves to it.
 
 234 PRINCIPAL GLEE COMPOSERS. 
 
 About the middle, and in tlie latter part of, the last 
 century, there were a number of glee composers, whose 
 names are preserved by their beautiful and still popular 
 compositions. Among these were Atterbury, the 
 author of the charming round, " Sweet enslaver," and 
 the glee, " Lay that sullen garland by thee ;" Baildon, 
 author of " "When gay Bacchus," and " Adieu to the 
 village delights;" Danby, author of "The fairest 
 flowers," "When Sappho tuned," and "Awake, iEolian 
 lyre ;" Paxton, author of " Go, Damon, go," " How 
 sweet, how fresh," and " Breathe soft, ye winds ;" and 
 Spofforth, author of " Hail, smiling mom," " Come, 
 bounteous May," " Where are those hours," and 
 *' Lightly o'er the village green." To the same period 
 belong the compositions of Dr. Harrington, of Bath, 
 among which the duet, " How sweet in the wood- 
 lands," the simple and elegant round, " How great is 
 the pleasure •" the humorous catch, " Old Thomas 
 Day ;" and the charming duet, " Sweet doth blush the 
 rosy morning," have always enjoyed the greatest popu- 
 larity. 
 
 The name of Dr. Benjamin Cooke deserves peculiar 
 notice, not only from his eminence as a musician, but 
 firom his interesting character. The date of his birth 
 is not recorded; but he was organist and master of 
 the boys of Westminster Abbey about the year 1780, 
 and died in 1793. The following pleasing parti- 
 culars respecting this amiable man are taken from 
 Miss Hawkins's Anecdotes^ Biographical Sketches^ and 
 Mefmoirs. 
 
 " Everything agreeable is connected with the remem- 
 brance of Dr. Cooke. He was one of the worthiest
 
 DR. BENJAMIN COOKE. 235 
 
 and best tempered men that ever existed ; and though 
 at an early period of life he had obtained a very high 
 rank in his profession, he had escaped all the ills 
 connected with music and prosperity. Being rather of 
 a taciturn disposition in general society, or rather, I 
 may say, too modest to enter into conv£rsation unless 
 called on, his pecuUar talent for humour was not 
 generally known, but it was genuine and of the best 
 description. 
 
 *' No one was ever less vain of superior excellence in 
 an art, or rather, less sensible of it. He certainly 
 supposed that everybody could do what he did ' if they 
 would but try;' and he would lend his abilities to 
 assist in the least ostentatious manner. When seated 
 at the organ of Westminster Abbey, where, it will be 
 acknowledged by his many still-existing scholars, no 
 one excelled him in accompanying an anthem, he 
 would press every hand that could be useful into his 
 service ; and, even at the risk of addressing himself to 
 persons ignorant of the first principles of music, he 
 would say to any lad who had strolled into the church 
 and found his way up to the organ, ' young gentleman, 
 can't you lend us a hand here V To his boys he would 
 say, ' come, come, don't stand idle ; put in one hand 
 here, under my arm.' 
 
 " Dr. Cooke had married early, and was an excellent 
 husband — had a large family, and was a most aftec- 
 tionatc parent ; so affectionate as, on the early death of 
 a son, to be almost alarmingly grieved. His feelings, at 
 all times, and in their natural state, were very tender. 
 He would sing his part in the beautiful Scotch song, 
 ' Farewell to Lochaber,' but never could do it without
 
 236 DR. BENJAMIN COOKE. 
 
 the tears standing in his eyes. His cordiality, though it 
 never led him into imprudence, was such as kept his door 
 almost always open ; and many times have I seen him 
 come home from business, when he had been waited for 
 in his dining-parlour and study, and his drawing-room 
 has received him into a circle, that has obliged him to 
 make his hasty compliments all round. In the streets 
 he was perpetually stopt ; it is impossible to describe 
 the humour with which he would apologise for any 
 delay in giving a lesson, which was, to do him justice, 
 not frequent ; he had a peculiar action with his elbow 
 Avhile he was recovering his breath, and his fingers 
 were unconsciously preluding the finest modulations on 
 a keyed instrument; and with a laugh that indicated 
 some humorous recollection he would say, ' I was just 
 stopt a few times as I came along ;' his patience with 
 ignorance, and his liberality of time, more than atoned 
 for five minutes waiting. 
 
 " As impossible is it to describe his humour in 
 relating. My father* had made interest with him to 
 instruct the son of a very worthy provincial organist ; 
 and the tuition commenced. When the shake was to 
 be acquired, the pupil, in his extreme attention, as he 
 proceeded in this tAVO-fingered manoeuvre, gradually 
 declined towards the ground on the right hand. As 
 the seat for such a purpose is not generally of the most 
 secure form or dimensions. Dr. Cooke warned the 
 young man to keep steady, saying cheerfully, ' Take 
 care, take care ;' but still the youth was too apt to be 
 absorbed by his occupation. ' At last,' said the doctor, 
 in relating it, ' I thought, as I was near at hand in case 
 
 • Sir John Hawkins, the author of the History of Music.
 
 DR. BENJAMIN COOKE. 237 
 
 of any disaster, it might cure him if for once I let him 
 go ; and verily he went on, shake, shake, shake, till he 
 and stool and all were close to my feet instead of my 
 elbow.' — Another anecdote made us very merry. He 
 was giving lessons on the violin to a young man of a 
 noble family. The young man was beginning to play ; 
 but, in the common impetuosity of a novice, he passed 
 over all the rests, and, therefore, soon left his master 
 far behind him. ' Stop, stop, sir,' said the doctor, 
 * just take me with you.' This was a very unpleasant 
 check to one who fancied he was ' going on famously ;' 
 and it required to be more than once enforced ; till at 
 length it was necessary to argue the point, which the 
 doctor did with his usual candour, representing the 
 necessity of these observances. The pupil, instead of 
 showing any sign of conviction, replied rather coarsely, 
 ' Ay, ay, it may be necessary for you, who get your 
 living by it, to mind such trifles, but / don't want to 
 be so exact*.' " 
 
 In connexion with Dr. Cooke, Miss Hawkins 
 mentions the earl of Sandwich, one of the most eminent 
 dilettanti, as well as greatest statesman of his day, who 
 indulged his taste for music at the time when he was 
 discharging the then arduous duties of First Lord of 
 
 * This youth of quality was something like the country 
 manager, who, observing one of the musicians in his orchestra 
 sitting inactive during the rehearsal of an overture, called 
 out to him to know why he was not playing. " I am resting, 
 sir," said the performer. "Resting, sir!" exclaimed the 
 manager in a rage — " what the d — , sir, do you think I am going 
 to pay you for resting? Play on, sir, — no resting in my 
 tlieatre !"
 
 238 DR. BENJAMIN COOKE, 
 
 the Admiralty. " His lordship," says Miss Hawkins, 
 " was one of those men of great business, and great men 
 of business, who contrive to have leisure by never 
 suffering arrears of labour to accumulate. He has 
 been known to rise from table merely to answer a note 
 from some mother anxious to hear of the safety of a son 
 in the navy, and has been heard to say of himself, 
 what he was well warranted in saying he believed few 
 could boast, that he did not owe a letter to any one. 
 Of his ability to attend to small things, as well as his 
 disposition to be kind to those in the most lowly 
 situations, I remember his giving a proof in his con- 
 certing with my father the means of relieving a man 
 who had, I believe, once been prosperous in trade, but 
 was then in want, and who had been a madrigal 
 singer. 'He is,' said his lordship, 'a fit object for me 
 to present as a pensioner to the Charter-house ; the 
 charity was intended for such men, not for our coach- 
 men and footmen: I will make him comfortable; — 
 and then. Sir John, we will have some madrigal-singing 
 in his room.' " Every man of a really strong and active 
 mind is able to find sufficient leisure for recreation, 
 whatever may be his share in the serious business of 
 life. The bow must not be always bent ; and severe 
 labour, whether of the body or the mind, must be 
 relieved by ease and relaxation. When, therefore, we 
 hear a man complain of the pressure of affairs, and 
 lament his want of leisure to enjoy the pleasures of 
 literature, music, painting, or any of the other elegant 
 and liberal arts, we may safely conclude, either that he 
 is a confused and inefficient man of business, or that he 
 merely pretends to have a taste for refined and intellec-
 
 ROBERT COOKE. 239 
 
 tual pursuits while he really prefers frivolous, gross, 
 and probably vicious amusements. 
 
 Dr. Cooke's glees are numerous, and of great beauty. 
 They are remarkable for natural and graceful ease of 
 melody, great simplicity and yet much art in the dis- 
 position of the parts, and fine expression. Among 
 those which are most prized, are, "Hark, the lark at 
 heaven's gate sings ;" " How sleep the brave ;" " la 
 the merry month of May," which is in the style of the 
 old Madrigal ; " As now the shades of eve ;" " I've 
 been young, though now grown old," a Spartan war- 
 song and chorus — a spirited and vigorous composition ; 
 and " Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger." 
 One of his rounds, " Curst as the evil one is he," (a 
 parody on the famous fragment of Sappho, " Blest as 
 the immortal gods is he,") is a most ingenious and 
 beautiful specimen of this kind of composition. 
 
 Dr. Cooke's son, Robert Cooke, was, like his father, 
 organist of Westminster Abbey, and a very distin- 
 guished glee composer. He died in 1814. His most 
 remarkable production is the " Invocation to Friend- 
 ship," a glee for eight voices ; in which eight real parts 
 are treated with great skill and beautiful eflFect. 
 Among the best of his other glees are, " Mark where 
 the silver queen of night," " Why o'er the verdant 
 banks," " Love and folly were at play," " Eound thy 
 pillow," and " Sweet warbling bird." 
 
 The earl of Mornington, the father of the duke 
 of Wellington, is the author of several of our most 
 beautiful glees. He was bom in 1720, and was 
 remarkable, when a child, for his musical precocity, of 
 which a number of instances are recorded by the Hon.
 
 240 EARL OF MORNINGTON. SAMUEL WEBBE. 
 
 Daines Barrington. His father, who was a tolerable 
 performer on the violin, used to amuse the child, then 
 in his nurse's arms, by playing to him ; and the boy 
 took great delight in papa's fiddling. Dubourg, an 
 eminent violinist of that day, being on a visit at the 
 house, Mr. Wellesley was handing him his violin, but 
 the child would not suffer him to take it till his little 
 hands were held. After having heard Dubourg, how- 
 ever, there was still more difficulty in persuading him 
 to let Dubourg return the violin to his father ; and the 
 child would never afterwards allow his father to play 
 while Dubourg was in the house. Among Lord Mom- 
 ington's compositions, the most popular are the glees, 
 " Here in cool grot," " Gently hear me, charming 
 maid," " Hail, hallowed fane," and " Come, fairest 
 nymph." His catch, " 'Twas you, sir," is very lively 
 and amusing. 
 
 Samuel Webbe was remarkable for his ardour in 
 the pursuit of general knowledge, and his great attain- 
 ments as a linguist. His life was equally interesting 
 and exemplary. He was born in 1740. His father 
 was a man of high respectability and independent 
 fortune ; but dying suddenly at Minorca, whither he had 
 gone to take possession of an office under government, 
 and the family property having been in some manner 
 alienated from his descendants, his widow was so much 
 reduced in circumstances, that his son received very 
 little education, and was apprenticed to a cabinet- 
 maker when he was only eleven years old. His 
 disposition was averse, however, to so mechanical a 
 calling, and he abandoned it as soon as he was released 
 from his* indentures. He applied himself to the study
 
 SAMUEL WEBBE. 241 
 
 of Latin ; but, his mother dying, he was left without 
 support, and obliged to earn his livelihood by copying 
 music, though as yet wholly unacquainted with the art. 
 He acquired the rudiments of music from anobscure 
 professor named Barbandt, with whom his occupa- 
 tion of a copyist had made him acquainted. At this 
 time his industry was so unremitting that, when fully 
 employed, he wrote from five in the morning till twelve 
 at night. When he had any leisure he pursued the study 
 of music ; and, having acquired a considerable know- 
 ledge of Latin, he set about the acquisition of French. 
 He married at the age of three and twenty ; and the 
 birth of a child added to his difficulties. His ardour 
 for knowledge, however, seemed to increase with his 
 embarrassments, and he began to take lessons in Italian. 
 His knowledge of music now enabled him to exercise 
 the profession of a teacher ; and his genius for composi- 
 tion soon gained him distinction. Scarcely a year 
 passed without his obtaining a prize medal, and some- 
 times two, for his glees from the Catch Club, till the 
 time that the practice of giving prizes was discontinued 
 by that society. In addition to his previous attain- 
 ments, he acquired an extensive knowledge of the 
 Hebrew and German languages; he excelled in the 
 manly exercises and elegant accomplishments ; and his 
 amiable and benevolent disposition endeared him to the 
 circle in which he moved. In 1794 he was appointed 
 secretary to the Noblemen and Gentlemen's Catch- 
 Club, which situation he held till his death, in 181 7. 
 He is the author of above a hundred glees and part- 
 songs, a great number of which are of the highest 
 excellence. His "When winds breathe soft" is a 
 
 VOL. II. R
 
 242 DR. CALLCOTT. 
 
 musical picture full of beauty, and of grandeur ap- 
 proaching the sublime. Among his other productions, 
 " Hence all ye vain delights," " The mighty conqueror 
 of hearts," " Discord, dire sister," " Glorious Apollo," 
 " If love and all the VFOrld," " Thy voice, harmony," 
 " Come, live vpith me," " Swiftly o'er the mountain's 
 brow," and the " Ode on St. Cecilia," may be considered 
 the greatest, though there are many others hardly, if at 
 all, inferior. 
 
 Dr. Callcott was bom in 1766, and commenced his 
 musical career at the age of eighteen, when he appeared 
 as candidate for the prize given by the Catch-Club. 
 In 1786, he was admitted an honorary member of that 
 club ; on which occasion he sent in, as a candidate for 
 prizes, nearly a hundred compositions ; a proceeding 
 which produced the natural consequence of a resolution 
 by the club limiting the number of compositions from 
 any one candidate, to twelve. Callcott was rather 
 unreasonably offended at this, and declined, for a time, 
 to write for the club ; but in 1782 he sent in twelve 
 pieces, the full number allowed, and gained all the 
 prizes of the year, — a circumstance unprecedented in 
 the history of the club. From that time till 1793, 
 Vfhen the Catch-Club ceased to give prizes, he continued 
 regularly to send in compositions to the club, and 
 gained a great number of medals. 
 
 In 1787» lie joined Dr. Arnold and a number of 
 gentlemen, both professional and amateurs, in founding 
 the Glee-Club, which held its first meeting at the 
 Newcastle Coffee-house, on the 22nd of December of 
 that year. 
 
 In 1800 he obtained the degree of doctor of music,
 
 DR. CALLCOTT. 
 
 at Oxford. Soon after this time, his strength, both of 
 body and mind, began to give way under the excessive 
 labour to which he subjected himself. He was not 
 only an indefatigable composer, but an industrious 
 teacher ; and he had also engaged in preparing mate- 
 rials for a musical dictionary. Finding himself, how- 
 ever, unable to accomplish an undertaking of such 
 magnitude, he wrote his Musical Grammar; a little 
 work, in which the rudiments of music are clearly and 
 judiciously expounded. This was his last work of any 
 consequence. His faculties sank under such unremit- 
 ting exertions ; and he spent several years in a state of 
 entire seclusion. His mind afterwards recovered its 
 tone, and he was again able to mingle in society and 
 resume his professional pursuits. But this lasted but a 
 short while : he relapsed into mental imbecility, and 
 died on the 15th of May, 1821. 
 
 A collection of Dr. Callcott's glees, catches, and 
 canons, in two volumes, was published in 1824, by his 
 son-in-law, Mr. Horsley, who has prefixed to it an ably 
 written and very interesting sketch of the composer's 
 life. This piece of musical biography is worthy of 
 peculiar attention, not only on account of the subject, 
 but of the author, who is himself one of the greatest 
 ornaments of the English school, and who, besides 
 being connected with Callcott by the ties of kindred 
 resembles him in the nature of his pursuits and the 
 character of his genius. 
 
 In the unwearied activity of his mind, and his 
 ardour in the pursuit of general knowledge. Dr. Call- 
 cott seems strongly to have resembled Mr. Webbe. 
 *'When scarcely more than fourteen years of age," 
 
 B2
 
 244 
 
 DR. CALLCOTT. 
 
 Mr. Horsley says, " the passion for various pursuits 
 for which he was afterwards so remarkable, showed 
 itself strongly. His musical studies appear to have 
 been conducted with almost unremitting diligence ; yet 
 at intervals he continued to improve himself in classi- 
 cal learning, and began to cultivate an acquaintance 
 with the French and Italian languages. Indeed, to 
 attain a general knowledge of languages was with him 
 a great object at all times ; and he was even induced 
 to attempt the Hebrew and the Syriac. Algebra and 
 mathematics also occupied his attention ; and it is, per- 
 haps, to the gratification which those studies aflForded 
 him, that we may attribute the taste for abstract musi- 
 cal science which he afterwards displayed." 
 
 His musical pursuits were at first of a varied kind, 
 but he early devoted himself to the particular study of 
 glee writing. Even when he had become one of the 
 most popular glee composers of the day, he had ac- 
 quired little skill in the management of an orchestra. 
 " I have heard him relate," says Mr. Horsley, " that 
 having, about this time, written a song with full accom- 
 paniments, he presented it to Stephen Storace, with a 
 request that he would examine it, and draw his pencil 
 through such parts as did not please him. Stephen, 
 who was one of the most unceremonious of beings, 
 looked over the score, then drawing his pencil through 
 the whole, he thrust it into our author s hands, with 
 the single exclamation, — ' There !' " 
 
 Following his constant desire for improvement, he 
 received some instructions from Haydn during that 
 great master's residence in England. " It does not 
 appear," Mr. Horsley says, " that he took many lessons
 
 DR. CALLCOTT. 245 
 
 from Haydn : the numerous avocations which occupied 
 him in turn, must have made it impossible for him to 
 devote much time to any one branch of musical science. 
 His efforts for general improvement were prodigious, 
 even at this period of his life ; and they excited the 
 surprise and even the alarm of his friends ; an alarm 
 which eventually proved to be well-founded. His 
 constitution, though not robust, was naturally good; 
 but it was not in human strength to withstand the 
 demands he made on it. He not only denied himself 
 those intervals of relaxation which every one finds 
 necessary, but even during his meals he was occupied 
 in reading ; and, what was still more detrimental to 
 his health, he sought by various means to abridge hia 
 hours of sleep. Indeed, the time he allowed himself 
 for repose was so exceedingly short, that, according to 
 the opinion of a well-informed medical friend, it was 
 of itself sufficient to lay the foundation of that irrita- 
 bility of the nervous system which subsequently pro- 
 duced such distressing consequences. 
 
 " It was while he received lessons from Haydn, that 
 he composed his well-known scene from Thomson's 
 hymn, ' These as they change.' The accompaniments 
 to the recitative in that scene are among his best in- 
 strumental productions, and prove the advantages he 
 derived from studying under so profound a judge of 
 orchestral effect. It was also, I think, from frequent 
 conversations with that wonderful composer, and from 
 a diligent consideration of some of his works, that my 
 friend first became inclined to employ himself princi- 
 pally in compositions of a small number of parts. 
 Whoever looks attentively over the scores of those
 
 246 DB. CALLCOTT. 
 
 r 
 
 symphonies which Haydn wrote before his visit to this 
 country, must observe, that the great effects produced 
 by them are not at all dependant on complicated har- 
 mony. On the contrary, they must be pronounced 
 thin, in comparison with the symphonies of Mozart or 
 Beethoven: their charm, therefore, consists in the 
 beauty of the cantilena, in the admirable conduct of 
 the subject and modulation, and in the exquisite em- 
 ployment of every instrument introduced. Struck 
 with this, Callcott conceived that the finest vocal com- 
 positions would be found in three, or at the most, four 
 parts. In this opinion he was much confirmed by the 
 success of his glees, * Peace to the souls of the heroes,' 
 ' Who comes so dark from ocean's roar V ' The Friar 
 of Orders Gray,' &c., and henceforward, with a very 
 few exceptions, he confined himself to that number." 
 
 Mr. Horsley gives a pleasing account of the com- 
 mencement of his intercourse with Dr. Callcott. Mr. 
 Horsley, then a very young man, was organist of Ely 
 Chapel, in Ely Place, Holbom. The churchwardens 
 and overseers of St. Paul's, Co vent Garden, after the 
 unfortunate destruction of their own church, were in 
 the habit of occasionally applying to the neighbouring 
 clergy for the use of their churches or chapels, in 
 which sermons were preached for the benefit of the 
 poor children of St. Paul's parish, who, on these occa- 
 sions, attended to sing. The use of Ely Chapel having 
 been granted for this purpose, the young organist, who 
 had long admired Callcott's compositions, and ardently 
 desired to know him, learned that there was to be a 
 sermon for the benefit of the schools of St. Paul's, and 
 that Mr. Callcott would attend with the children to
 
 DR. CALLCOTT. 247 
 
 practise : — " When the day arrived," says Mr. Horsley, 
 " I went to the chapel before the hour appointed ; the 
 children were assembled, and my friend made his ap- 
 pearance soon after. I shall never forget the smile 
 with which he received me ; a smile peculiarly benevo- 
 lent and encouraging, which will always be remem- 
 bered by those who ever witnessed it. We had a long 
 conversation together, during which he iriquired in the 
 kindest manner into the nature of my studies and pro- 
 fessional views. He was much pleased to find that I 
 had devoted myself to vocal composition, and gave me 
 permission to send him some copies of a canzonet which 
 I had then just published. We parted ; and I, quite 
 elated with such an acquisition to my acquaintance, 
 hastened home to send him my song, which I accom- 
 panied with a laboured address. A simple and encour- 
 aging answer was soon returned, which concluded with 
 an invitation to his house. This, it will be easily 
 imagined, I was not slow to accept ; and from that 
 time a friendship was formed between us, which was 
 afterwards drawn still closer by family ties, and re- 
 mained undisturbed, even by a single accident, till it 
 was terminated by the hand of death." 
 
 We have mentioned that Dr. Callcott's mental facul- 
 ties gave way under the pressure of his excessive 
 exertions ; and that he spent some years in a state of 
 total seclusion. The following is Mr. Horsley's touch- 
 ing account of the concluding period of his life. 
 
 " After an absence of more than five years, we again 
 had the happiness to see him among us ; altered indeed 
 in some respects, yet still possessing those excellent and 
 endearing qualities by which he had always been dis-
 
 248 DR. CALLCOTT, 
 
 tinguished. As he seemed no longer to entertain those 
 laborious designs which had before exhausted his bodily 
 and mental energies, we flattered ourselves that we 
 should long enjoy the delight of his society. This 
 pleasing hope was encouraged by the steady manner in 
 which he resumed his former occupation of teaching, 
 and by the extraordinary care with which he avoided 
 everything that could tend to produce irritability. 
 
 " These precautions had a beneficial result for more 
 than three years : at the expiration of that time he was 
 once more compelled to leave his home, to which he 
 never again returned. In the spring of 1821 he was 
 declared to be in imminent danger, and some of his 
 nearest relatives immediately hastened to attend him. 
 Soon after their arrival he expressed a wish to see me, 
 and I instantly obeyed it. My appearance seemed to 
 afford him much pleasure, and he even put forth his 
 hand a second time to greet me. From this moment 
 he had the consolation of being attended by some of 
 those whom he had most loved, and it was plain that 
 their attentions were a source of the greatest comfort to 
 him. His mind was collected, though he laboured 
 under a difficulty of speech, which rendered conversation 
 with him exceedingly painful. 
 
 " The piety which had always marked his character 
 through life, showed itself strongly as that life ap- 
 proached to a close ; and, like all other good men, he 
 sought for the support which religion alone can give. 
 One of his daughters frequently read prayers to him, 
 and extracts from the Holy Scriptures ; and he was 
 occasionally heard to repeat the poetry of his compo- 
 sitions which had any relation to his afflictions, or
 
 DR. CALLCOTT. 249 
 
 which served in any degree to express the trust and 
 confidence which he felt in the Almighty Disposer of 
 events. 
 
 "From the commencement of that serious attack 
 which summoned his family around him, no expecta- 
 tions were entertained of his recovery, and he died on 
 Tuesday, the 15th of May, 1821, in the fifty-fifth year 
 of his age. His remains were brought to Kensington, and 
 privately interred in the church- yard of that place, on 
 the 23rd of the same month." 
 
 Nothing can be more beautiful than the picture which 
 Mr. Horsley has drawn of the character of his distin- 
 guished relative; and its correctness is vouched by 
 the esteem and affection in which he was held by his 
 professional brethren and his numerous friends. " If 
 Dr. Callcott," says his biographer, " was entitled to our 
 admiration as a musician, he had the strongest claim to 
 our esteem and reverence as a man. By nature he was 
 kind, gentle, and beneficent. He had no enemies — ^he 
 could have none. Violent or malignant passions never 
 found any place in his heart ; but whenever troubled by 
 the folly or indiscretion of mankind, his sentiments on 
 the occasion were always those of one whose philosophy 
 is exalted by Christianity. Although in possession 
 himself of such extraordinary talents and acquirements, 
 he delighted in the slightest exhibition of talent or ac- 
 quirement in others, and was ready at all times to pour 
 forth the copious streams of his knowledge for their as- 
 sistance. Towards the younger members of his profes- 
 sion he was always most liberal ; and there are several 
 now living in great comfort and respectability, who are 
 indebted for all they enjoy to the gratuitous assistance
 
 250 
 
 DB. CALLCOTT. 
 
 which they received from Dr. Callcott. But the 
 brightest part of my friend's character, that which gave 
 beauty to all the rest, was his unfeigned piety : he was 
 a Christian — and as a Christian he thought, and spake, 
 and acted. Religion constantly furnished the rule of 
 his conduct. It restrained him in the days of his pros- 
 perity ; it supported him when calamity came ; and it 
 gxiided him to the ' haven of his rest.' 
 
 " ' Behold the upright ; for the end of that man is 
 peace.' " 
 
 Callcott divides with Webbe the claim to pre-eminence 
 in the branch of the musical art to which they devoted 
 themselves. Some of his glees are slight, and appear to 
 have been hastily written ; others have been evidently 
 produced when his imagination was not very active ; 
 and there is a similarity in the construction of many of 
 his compositions which approaches to mannerism. But all 
 this must be the case with everyone who writes so much, 
 and so rapidly, as Callcott has done. A great number 
 of his glees, the produce of his happier moments, are 
 worthy of all the admiration they have received; and 
 of the forty-eight glees selected by Mr. Horsley from 
 among his voluminous works, in order to form the con- 
 tents of the posthumous publication we have already 
 mentioned, there is not one that does not bear the impress 
 of the author's genius. 
 
 Dr. Callcott's masterpiece is undoubtedly the cele- 
 brated glee, " O snatch me swift from these tempestuous 
 scenes ;" a composition, indeed, which probably has not 
 been surpassed by any work of its class. In its lofty 
 and devotional character it resembles Webbe's " When 
 winds breathe soft ;" and there is a curious resemblance,
 
 DR. CALLCOTT. 251 
 
 too, in the circumstances whicli gave rise to these two 
 great productions. Webbe obtained the words of his 
 glee, from happening, one morning, to look at the piece 
 of paper which covered some article brought in by his 
 servant from the grocer's shop ; and the author of these 
 magnificent words has never been known. Callcott 
 found the words of " snatch me swift " in an old 
 volume of poems which he bought at a book-stall on 
 his way to the theatre, in order to pass the time while 
 waiting for the commencement of the play ; and these 
 beautiful but anonymous verses inspired the composer 
 with his noblest conceptions. The whole of the glee is 
 grand and impressive ; and the fugue on two subjects 
 with which it concludes, shows how, in the hands of 
 genius, the resources of counterpoint can be made sub- 
 servient to the purposes of effect and poetical expression. 
 Besides this magnificent glee the following may be men- 
 tioned as possessing peculiar excellence : " Peace to the 
 souls of the heroes," " Who comes so dark," " Queen of 
 the valley," " The Red-cross knight," " In the lonely 
 vale of streams," " Are the white hours for ever fled," 
 " O voi che sospirate," " The Friar of Orders Gray," and 
 *' The May Fly." Dr. Callcott also composed two or 
 three songs, or cantatas, with orchestral accompaniments; 
 one of which, " These as they change," has already been 
 mentioned, and his "Angel of life," written for the cele- 
 brated Bartleman, enjoyed unbounded popularity in the 
 days of that unrivalled bass- singer, but has rarely been 
 attempted by any of his successors. 
 
 Some beautiful glees were produced between thirty 
 and forty years ago, by Mr. R. J. Stevens, Grcsham 
 professor of music, and organist of the Charter-house.
 
 252 SMITH. HORSLEY. 
 
 Among these, the most remarkable are " Some of my 
 heroes are low," " Ye spotted snakes," " It was a lover 
 and his lass," " mistress mine," " Crabbed age and 
 youth," and "From Oberon in Fairy-land." These 
 productions are exceedingly original, and indicative of a 
 rich and poetical fancy*. Mr. Stafford Smith, a pupil 
 of Dr. Boyce, composed a number of fine glees, about 
 the end of the last century. His " Return blest days," 
 "While fools their time," and " Blest pair of sirens," will 
 always hold a high place in English vocal music. 
 
 The reputation of the English school of vocal har- 
 mony is fully supported by the composers of the pre- 
 sent day. Mr. Horsley, by his beautiful and classical 
 productions has placed himself in the highest rank of 
 glee writers. We have already seen that his at- 
 tention, at an early period of life, was turned to vocal 
 harmony. In the pursuit of his art he has evinced ar- 
 dour and industry as well as genius; and his works form 
 a greater and more important addition to the riches of 
 this branch of English music than those of any other 
 composer except his great precursors, Webbe and Call- 
 cott. His compositions indicate a profound knowledge 
 of the principles of his art, and a complete command of 
 its resources ; — a warm and poetical imagination, 
 chastened by the utmost refinement of taste. In the 
 
 • On the death of Mr. Stevens, Mr. Edward Taylor has been 
 lately elected Gresham Professor of Music, a situation which, 
 from being a mere sinecure, he is rendering highly conducive to 
 the benefit of theart. His three inaugural lectures, just published, 
 contain a curious and interesting history of Gresham College, and 
 a clear exposition of the principles which ought to regulate the 
 method of every popular lecturer on music.
 
 HORSLEY. 253 
 
 choice of his subjects he is uniformly guided by a clas- 
 sical and discriminating judgment, and thoroughly im- 
 bued with the spirit and feeling of his poetry. His 
 vocal phrases, accordingly, are not more remarkable for 
 their melodious flow and smoothness, than for their 
 adaptation to the correct and expressive declamation of 
 the words. Several of Mr. Horsley's glees have acquired 
 a popularity which has never been surpassed. " By 
 Celia's Arbour," " See the chariot at hand," and " Cold 
 is Cadwallo's tongue," are well known to every glee- 
 singer in the kingdom ; but there are many others, 
 which though less generally known than these, are in no 
 respect inferior to them. Of this description are, " Lo, 
 on yon long resounding shore," and " Awake my lyre," 
 both for five voices ; " Blow light, thou balmy air," 
 " When the pale moon," " Forget me not," " Mine be a 
 cot," and " Solo e pensoso," in the style of the Italian 
 madrigal. Mr. Horsley's two collections of vocal 
 canons contain many exquisite specimens of this class of 
 composition, in all its varieties. To construct a canon, 
 according to the strict rules laid down for it, even if 
 compliance with these rules is the only point gained, is 
 a work of difGiculty and skill ; and a familiarity with 
 these rules, and readiness in using them, are of infinite 
 value in every style of composition, however free. But 
 a canon technically exact, and, at the same time, melo- 
 dious, expressive, and moving without stiffness or appa- 
 rent restraint, is a work of art, possessing beauties 
 peculiar to itself, and beauties, too, which are felt by 
 persons unacquainted with the mechanism which pro- 
 duces them. The beauty of the famous " Non nobis 
 Domine," is derived from its technical construction— at
 
 254 HOBSLEY. — BEALE. — SIR JOHN ROGERS. 
 
 least, we know of no vocal composition, of similar 
 dimensions, and in simple counterpoint, which ap- 
 proaches it in effect. Yet, among the multitudes, who, 
 at our large public meetings, listen to its grand and 
 solemn harmony as it peals round and round the hall, 
 how many are there who can ascribe their feelings to its 
 peculiar structure as a " Canon three in one ? " Such 
 are these canons of Mr. Horsley's. Their construction 
 will gratify the admirer of learning and technical skill ; 
 while they will delight and affect every one who is capa- 
 ble of being " moved with concord of sweet sounds." In 
 proof of this it is sufficient to refer to the last piece in 
 the supplementary collection, " Audivi vocem de coelo," 
 a choral canon for four voices and on two subjects, com- 
 posed on the death of a friend ; a production of the most 
 artificial contrivance, yet simple in its effect, and full of 
 deep and pathetic expression. 
 
 Mr. W. Beale, among other excellent works, has 
 made one of the few successful attempts, in modem 
 times, to compose a madrigal. His "Awake sweet 
 muse," (which gained the prize cup given by the 
 Madrigal Society, in 1813,) is worthy of the age of 
 Elizabeth. Sir John Eogers, the present president of 
 that society, and a dilettante of the highest attainments, 
 has produced several admirable compositions in this 
 style, which are full of invention and taste, and deeply 
 imbued with the spirit of " the olden time." Lord 
 BuBGHEBSH, who has distinguished himself as a com- 
 poser in various styles, has written some good glees and 
 other English vocal pieces. Mr. Samuel Webbe, jun. 
 Mr. Goss, organist of Chelsea, Mr. T. Cooke, director of 
 the music of Drury-lane theatre, Mr. Jolly, organist of
 
 BISHOP. 2SS 
 
 St. Peter's chapel, and Mr. Walmisley, organist of St. 
 Martin's-in-the-Fields, are the authors of many excel- 
 lent glees. Sib John Stevenson was a voluminous and 
 popular glee- writer; but his productions are of too flimsy 
 a structure to be lasting. 
 
 The weight of the English school of dramatic music, 
 since the beginning of the present century, has rested 
 chiefly on the shoulders of Mr. Bishop. From the 
 death of Storace in 1796, to the commencement of Mr. 
 Bishop's career, in 1806, the composers for the theatre 
 were Mazzinghi, Reeve, and Braham. Paul and 
 Virginia^ The Turnpike-gate^ and several other operas, 
 were composed by Mazzinghi and Reeve jointly ; and 
 the most favourite pieces in The Cabinet^ The English 
 Fleet, Kais, and The Demi's Bridge were composed by 
 Braham. These operas contained many elegant and 
 pleasing airs, and were very popular for a time ; but 
 they were unable to supersede the works of Ame, 
 Arnold, Storace, and Dibdin, which still keep their place 
 as stock-pieces in all our theatres. Bishop's first pro- 
 ductions at once established his reputation. During 
 a period of above twenty years he produced, in rapid 
 succession, a multitude of operas and other musical 
 pieces, almost all of which were more or less successful 
 and many of them eminently so. By adapting to the 
 English stage Mozart's Don Giovanni and Figaro, and 
 Rossini's Barhiere di Sivigilia, he strengthened the 
 growing taste for foreign dramatic music, and created 
 that demand for ItaUan and German productions which 
 ultimately injured his own popularity. His opera of 
 Aladdin, which appeared at Drury-lane in 1826, at the 
 same time that Weber's Oheron was brought out at
 
 256 BISHOP. 
 
 Covent Garden, proved unsuccessful. Since that time 
 he has not produced any work of consequence ; and a 
 supply of musical pieces has been obtained chiefly by 
 means of adaptations from the German and Italian 
 stage. 
 
 The name of Bishop will always hold a high place in 
 the history of English music ; but his permanent fame 
 will rest on his earlier works, — on The Maniac ; The 
 Knight of Snoicdon ; The Virgin of the Sun ; The Miller 
 and his Men; and The Slave. In these admirable 
 operas we find pure, expressive, and forcible English 
 melody, combined with the depth and solidity of the 
 German school. They contain many scenes and con- 
 certed movements worthy of Mozart; and their rich 
 and varied, yet chaste and unobtrusive, orchestral 
 accompaniments, are in the style of that master. All 
 Bishop's pieces, indeed, contain traits of genius, and 
 passages worthy of a great artist; but, in many of 
 them, these are very thinly scattered. In truth, he did 
 injustice to his own fame by the excessive haste and 
 rapidity with which he wrote. Holding the situation 
 of composer and director of the music in Covent Garden 
 theatre, he seems to have considered it his first duty to 
 supply, as far as he could, the insatiable demand for 
 novelty ; and, for a succession of years, he produced 
 five, six, seven, and eight musical pieces annually. 
 Having thus tasked himself to write unceasingly, re- 
 gardless of the will of Minerva, and without consider- 
 ing whether or not he was in the vein, it is not sur- 
 prising that he should have filled his scores with 
 crudities and common-places, alike unsatisfactory to the 
 earned and unlearned. He thus lowered the character
 
 BISHOP. 367 
 
 of English music, more especially when contrasted with 
 the works of Mozart, Rossini, "Weber, Winter, Paer, 
 and other foreign masters, with which the public was 
 daily becoming better and better acquainted. Still, 
 however, his early and classical works are a sufficient 
 basis for a high and lasting reputation ; and, if the rich 
 stores of the older English music are ever again resorted 
 to, these works will not be overlooked. 
 
 Bishop is peculiarly successful in his concerted pieces. 
 The beautiful and original quintet, "Blow, gentle 
 gales," in The Slave, is still a favourite piece at our 
 concerts ; and the gipsy chorus, " The Chough and 
 Crow," in Guy Mannering, continues to enjoy undi- 
 minished popularity. We may also mention the rounds, 
 " When the wind blows," and "Hark! 'tis the Indian 
 drum," as combining masterly contrivance with striking 
 dramatic effect. The opening chorus in The Maniac ; 
 the chorus, "Now to the forest we repair," in The 
 Miller and his Men; and the storm chorus in The 
 Virgin of the Sun; are magnificent specimens of 
 Bishop's powers in this style of composition. Many of 
 the songs and duets in his various operas are elegant 
 and melodious ; but they are composed of less durable 
 materials than his choral and concerted music. 
 
 There is some appearance of the English school of 
 dramatic music being raised from its present state of 
 depression. Mr. Barnett's opera of The Mountain 
 Sylph, brought out in 1834 at the English Opera-house, 
 has been performed, we believe, more than a hundred 
 times, to crowded audiences. Mr. Loder's Nourjahad 
 also had a considerable run; and Mr. Thomson's 
 Hermann, though, in consequence of the faults of the 
 
 VOL. II. s
 
 258 ENGLISH DRAMATIC COMPOSERS. 
 
 drama, and a very defective performance, it was less 
 snccessful than these other pieces, was not inferior to 
 them in musical merit. 
 
 More recently several operas of merit have been pro- 
 duced by different English composers; particularly 
 The Siege of Bochelle and The Maid of Artois by Mr. 
 Balpe; i^air ^ommowc? by Mr. Barnett; The Village 
 Coquettes and Tlie Barbers of Bassora by Mr. Hull ah; 
 and Amilie by Mr. Rooke. All these pieces have been 
 successful — some of them eminently so; and their 
 merits, as well as their favourable reception, augur well 
 for the fortunes of the English musical drama. 
 
 The system of adapting foreign operas to the English 
 stage is still pursued ; and we should be sorry to see it 
 discontinued, were it carried on with judgment and 
 discretion. Its effect has been to improve the public 
 taste, and to stimulate our native artists to exertion. 
 But the pieces recently introduced belong chiefly to the 
 present degenerate Italian school : the managers of our 
 theatres having been tempted by the applause which 
 these pieces received at the Italian Opera-house, with- 
 out considering that this applause was bestowed, not on 
 the insipid music, but on the florid and brilliant execu- 
 tion of the Italian performers, which our singers (with 
 one or two exceptions,) cannot imitate without making 
 themselves ridiculous*. The success of these pieces, 
 therefore, has by no means answered the expectations 
 ■with which they were brought out ; and thus the evil 
 
 • This is not said disparagingly. The art of embellishing an 
 ^ with chaste and elegant ornaments is quite different from that 
 of covering it all over with gaudy frippery, and is acquired by a 
 very different course of study.
 
 ENGLISH DRAMATIC COMPOSERS. 259 
 
 will probably bring its own remedy. It is common to 
 accuse the English public of an unjust preference of 
 foreign artists, to the neglect of native talent. "We 
 cannot discover any ground for this charge. We do 
 not know an instance of a foreign opera, produced in 
 an English dress, having gained unmerited popularity, 
 or of an English opera having suffered unmerited 
 neglect. The English public have naturally preferred 
 masterly works, imported from abroad, to crude, hasty, 
 and shallow pieces produced at home ; and now they 
 show themselves equally ready to prefer an excellent 
 opera of Bamett to a poor one of Mercadante. Let 
 our dramatic composers study their art assiduously and 
 deeply ; let them write with a view to permanent repu- 
 tation as well as present gain; and they will have 
 nothing to fear from foreign rivals. 
 
 S 2
 
 ^60 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 PRESENT STATE OF MUSIC IN ENGLAND. THE PIANO-FORTE. 
 
 CLEMENTI. CRAMER. — THE ORGAN. COMPOSITION OF INSTRU- 
 MENTAL MUSIC. THE VIOMN. VOCAL PERFORMERS. — INSTITU- 
 TIONS. ANCIENT CONCERT. PHILHARMONIC SOCIETY. VOCAL 
 
 SOCIETY. SOCIETY OF BRITISH MUSICIANS. MUSICAL PUBLICA- 
 TIONS. CONCLUSION. 
 
 Mr. John Cramer, in tlie preface to the last edition 
 of his invaluable Studio per il Piano-forte, says, that 
 " it is not unreasonable to suppose that our hereditary 
 acquaintance with, and the frequent performances of, 
 Handel's works, have, in this country, offered an effec- 
 tual resistance to the evil influence of the florid and 
 vitiated style of the modern Italian school, which has 
 been so unfortunately and perniciously diffused over 
 the whole Continent ; for nowhere are Handel's works 
 so well understood, and so well performed, as in Eng- 
 land." This remark, though expressed in general 
 terms, is especially applicable to the subject of which 
 the writer is treating, — the style of composition for, and 
 performance on, the piano-forte ; and it is gratifying to 
 have such conclusive testimony to the superiority of 
 English taste in this great branch of instrumental 
 music. 
 
 The harpsichord, the precursor of the piano-forte, did 
 not possess the powers, or attain the importance, of 
 the latter instniment. There was little music written 
 expressly for the harpsichord by composers of the first
 
 MUZIO CLEMENTI. 261 
 
 class ; and by tliein it was used as subsidiary to the 
 organ. The first remarkable compositions for the harp- 
 sichord are those of Frescobaldi, who flourished about 
 the middle of the seventeenth century, and who was 
 also the greatest organist of his day. When we add 
 to his pieces those of Domenico Scarlatti, Handel, 
 Sebastian and Emanuel Bach, Paradies, and a few 
 minor composers, we have all the harpsichord music, of 
 any consequence, that preceded the time of the cele- 
 brated Clementi, the father of the piano-forte. As 
 soon as it became known, its powers of sostenuto and 
 expression, of which the harpsichord was destitute, led 
 to the abandonment of that instrument. 
 
 Muzio Clementi was born at Rome in 1752. He 
 was brought to this country when little more than a 
 boy ; and, having resided in England during almost 
 the whole of his long life, may be looked upon as an 
 English musician. He had made considerable profi- 
 ciency in music before his arrival ; but it was in this 
 country that he prosecuted those studies which raised 
 him to the summit of his art. He was indefatigable 
 in the study of the works of Corelli, Alessandro and 
 Domenico Scarlatti, Handel, and Sebastian Bach, and 
 the harpsichord lessons of Paradies, then very popular 
 in England. He became, by the common consent of 
 the whole musical world, the greatest performer on the 
 piano-forte of his time ; and, though, in his latter years, 
 he was rivalled by younger men, he has never yet been 
 surpassed. Indeed, he may be said to be the founder 
 of the modern school of the piano-forte, not only by 
 means of the great players whom he has instructed, 
 but by his works, which have been studied throughout
 
 262 CLEMENTI AND CRAMER. 
 
 Europe. John Cramer, Field, of Petersburg, and 
 several eminent foreign performers, were his pupils; 
 and many of the first pianists of the age (including 
 Beethoven himself) have acknowledged that they had, 
 in a great measure, formed themselves on his works, 
 dementi died in 1833, full of years and honours, due 
 not only to his exalted station as an artist, but to his 
 high intellectual and moral qualities as a man. 
 
 Many eminent composers for and performers on the 
 piano-forte have flourished in England since the com- 
 mencement of the present century, whom our limits do 
 not permit us to particularize. The most distinguished 
 among them were Dussek, Steibett, Woelpl, and 
 Field; all of whom have left many masterly and 
 beautiful works which ought not to be neglected by the 
 amateurs of this instrument. 
 
 Of John Baptist Cramer we have already had 
 occasion to speak. He, too, though a foreigner by 
 birth, is an English musician. He was brought to this 
 country in his childhood, by his father, William Cramer, 
 of Manheim, the celebrated violinist, about the year 
 1772; and (with the exception of occasional visits to the 
 Continent) lived constantly in England till the year 1835, 
 when he retired from the exercise of his profession, 
 and fixed his residence in Germany. He was a pupil 
 of dementi ; but many of his peculiar beauties (in so 
 far as they can be ascribed to anything but his own 
 genius,) were derived from his assiduous study of the 
 music of Mozart. 
 
 To the labours of Clementi and Cramer, aided by 
 their younger coadjutor, Moscheles, must, in a great 
 measure, be ascribed the comparative purity of the
 
 THE ORGAN. 263 
 
 English school of the piano-forte. Their admirable 
 didactic works are a body of studies in which nothing 
 is wanting that is requisite to form a finished player ; 
 and they all lay the foundation of their instructions in 
 the works of the old masters. Students thus imbued 
 with solid knowledge and good taste, are in little 
 danger of being corrupted by the shallow and frivolous 
 style which, springing from Vienna and Paris, is 
 spreading itself over Europe. Our principal public 
 performers, Mrs. Anderson, Neate, Potter, and 
 Bennett, and a great number of excellent teachers, 
 not only in London, but all our principal towns, belong 
 to the school of these great masters, and follow their 
 footsteps in tuition. The florid and showy style, 
 fashionable at Vienna and Paris, has its votaries here 
 also; but their mmiber is comparatively small, and 
 does not seem to be increasing *. 
 
 The organ, the noblest of instruments, is successfully 
 cultivated in England. Our organists rival those of 
 Germany, and are very superior to those of any other 
 country. The low state of the organ in France is ad- 
 mitted by French writers themselves; and the Italian 
 organists profane their churches, and degrade the in- 
 strument, by playing upon it, by way of voluntaries, 
 marches, waltzes, and overtures of operas. In England, 
 the dignity of the organ has been sustained by the 
 purity of our ecclesiastical school of music. Our chief 
 composers for the church, down to the present day, 
 have been masterly performers on the organ: and, 
 
 * The performances of Thalberg, displaying such wonderful 
 powers of execution, and so much novelty of style, cannot fail to 
 have an influence on the state of piano-forte playing in £ngland.
 
 264 COMPOSITION OF INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 
 
 owing to the example and influence of Samuel Wes- 
 ley, (the Sebastian Bach of the organ,) and other 
 great organists of the metropolis, the cathedrals and 
 churches, throughout the kingdom, are supplied with 
 organists who are not only able performers, but sound 
 and enlightened musicians. They are generally musi- 
 cal instructors ; and it is owing to them that (as John 
 Cramer has said) the works of Handel are nowhere so 
 well understood and performed as in England. 
 
 The composition of instrumental music, either for a 
 full orchestra, or in the form of concerted pieces for 
 instruments, has not yet been successfully cultivated 
 in England. We have no symphonies, quartets, or 
 quintets, which can rival the works of the German 
 school; and our dramatic composers, though some of 
 them are able to employ the orchestra effectively as an 
 accompaniment, hardly ever fail, in their overtures, to 
 show their deficiency in instrumental composition. 
 To excel in this branch of the art demands a depth and 
 variety of knowledge, and a command of the resources 
 of harmony, which, till very lately at least, has been 
 unattainable by the imperfect means of education which 
 England has furnished to musical students; and they 
 have, moreover, to contend with the stupendous works 
 of the German masters, the excellence of which appears 
 to the public, as well as to themselves, to be unap- 
 proachable. This produces the double disadvantage of 
 depressing their own energies, and of preventing ,their 
 productions from having an indulgent, or perhaps even 
 a fair, hearing. If a symphony, an overture, or a 
 quartet, by a native aspirant for musical honours, is 
 performed in public, the question ought to be, not
 
 THE VIOLIN. 265 
 
 whether it is comparable to the works of Haydn, 
 Mozart, or Beethoven, but whether it contains sufficient 
 originality, ingenuity, learning, and beauty to please, 
 in spite of the defects incident to youth and inexpe- 
 rience, and to give good assurance of future excellence. 
 There is even more pleasure in listening to music of 
 this description, and in contributing, by liberal appro- 
 bation, to the encouragement of rising talent, than in 
 enjoying the most consummate work of the greatest 
 master. The most severe and captious criticism pro- 
 ceeds from inferior artists and superficial amateurs; 
 while the most eminent and accomplished musicians 
 show alacrity in discovering beauties, and in putting 
 the kindest construction on the existence of faults. 
 Our musical students have now the means of ample 
 instruction; and its fruits are apparent in recent instru- 
 mental compositions of such merit as to show that their 
 authors, if encouraged to persevere, are capable of rais- 
 ing the English school to distinction even in this 
 arduous department of the art. 
 
 England has produced few great performers on the 
 violin. The uninterrupted succession of great solo- 
 players, from Italy, Germany, and France, appears to 
 have prevented our countrymen from cultivating the 
 violin further than as an orchestral instrument. Our 
 only native violinist, of long established reputation 
 as a concerto-player, is Mori, a pupil of Viotti, and 
 one of the preservers of his pure and admirable school. 
 As orchestral leaders, Francois Cramer, Weichsell, 
 Mori, Loder of Bath, and T. Cooke, are also highly 
 distinguished. Among our younger violinists, Bla- 
 GROVE has acquired great reputation by his talents
 
 266 INSTRUMENTAL AND VOCAL PERFORMERS. 
 
 both as a solo-player and a leader. As a violoncellist, 
 LiNDLEY has, for many years, been unrivalled for rich- 
 ness and beauty of tone, amazing power of execution, 
 and skill and judgment as an orchestral player. In 
 Dragonetti, we possess the greatest master of the 
 double-bass that has ever existed; and in Willman, 
 Cooke, Denman, Mackintosh, Harper, Platt, Card, 
 and others, we have a body of performers, on wind in- 
 struments, not to be equalled in Europe. 
 
 It is a prevailing custom among foreigners, and too 
 common among ourselves, to undervalue the English 
 school of singing. It has already been seen, however, 
 what was the opinion of the candid and liberal Weber 
 on this subject; and it may be added, that the English 
 singers, in general, have the advantage over the Italians, 
 of being sound and accomplished musicians. Mrs. Bil- 
 LINGTON was one of the finest performers on the piano- 
 forte of her day; Mrs. Dickons was remarkable, even 
 in her childhood, for the manner in which she played 
 the most difficult compositions of Bach and Handel; 
 and Miss Paton (now Mrs. Wood) had become a 
 finished piano-forte player before she devoted herself to 
 vocal music. Bartleman, the greatest bass-singer 
 that England has produced, owed much of the grandeur 
 of his style to his profound knowledge of the most sub- 
 lime compositions of every age and country. The 
 wonderful versatility of Braham, who is alike un- 
 rivalled in all descriptions of music, from the divine 
 strains of Handel to a popular ballad, is derived from 
 the extraordinary extent and depth of his musical 
 learning. Horn is the author of many vocal pieces, 
 remarkable not only for their beauty, but the masterly
 
 VOCAL PERFORMERS. 267 
 
 style in which they are written. Bellamy, Vaugha>% 
 Knyvett, E. Taylor, Hobbs, Hawkins, Horncastle, 
 Sapio, Phillips, Seguin, Parry, Mrs. Knyvett, 
 Madame Vestris, Mrs. Seguin, Miss Masson, Miss 
 Clara Novello, and Mrs. Burnett, are good musi- 
 cians as well as excellent vocalists; and, indeed, there 
 is scarcely one of our singers of any pretensions who 
 would not be ashamed of the ignorance frequently be- 
 trayed by eminent Italian vocal performers. Since the 
 retirement of Miss Stephens, and the absence of Mr. 
 Braham and Mrs. Wood, our stage has been deficient 
 in vocal strength; but it has been powerfully rein- 
 forced by the appearance of several young performers 
 of great talent. Our present singers would be fully 
 adequate, if united in one body, to the performance of 
 the best and most arduous dramatic music; but they 
 are divided among a number of theatres, not one of 
 which, consequently, is able to get up an opera in a 
 satisfactory manner. If we had in substance what we 
 have in name — an English Opera-house — a theatre 
 dedicated to the performance of the national musical 
 drama, while the other theatres divided among them- 
 selves the other departments of the stage, we might 
 expect not only to have operas, but every kind of dra- 
 matic entertainment, better performed than at present, 
 when each theatre, endeavouring to grasp at every- 
 thing, maintains a motley, but numerous and expensive 
 company, whose strength can never be brought into 
 combined action, and the separate sections of which are 
 incompetent to do anything well. 
 
 The principal institutions in London for the advance- 
 ment of music are, the Concert of Ancient Music, the
 
 268 THE PHILHARMONIC SOCIETY. 
 
 Philharmonic Society, the Royal Academy of Music, 
 the Vocal Society, and the Society of British Musicians. 
 
 The Concert of Ancient Music was established in 
 the year 1776, for the purpose of preserving, by means 
 of regular performance, the great works of the older 
 masters, which might otherwise, through the desire of 
 novelty, be allowed to fall into oblivion. This insti- 
 tution is under the immediate direction of a body of 
 noblemen, and has always engaged the highest patron- 
 age, which, upon the whole, it has merited. The 
 orchestra, vocal and instrumental, embraces the greatest 
 talent that can be obtained ; and some of the magnifi- 
 cent compositions of the last two centuries are heard at 
 these concerts in all their grandeur. But their manage- 
 ment has been charged w^ith want of energy, activity, 
 and research in bringing to light the innumerable gems 
 that lie hid in the vast stores of ancient music. This 
 charge, however, seems applicable to the past rather 
 than the present conduct of this noble institution. 
 
 The Philharmonic Society was established in 1813, 
 by a number of the most eminent members of the 
 musical profession, for the improvement of the highest 
 class of instrumental music, by means of the study, 
 and public performance, of the symphonies, overtures, 
 quartets, and other concerted instrumental pieces of 
 the greatest masters. It is a law of this society that 
 the profits derived from its concerts shall be applied to 
 the purposes for which the institution was formed, and 
 never to the personal emolument of the members. 
 Vocal music forms a part of the concerts, not as 
 belonging to the objects of the institution, but as being 
 necessary to make them attractive to a public audience.
 
 THE ROYAL ACADEMY OP MUSIC. 269 
 
 The society is carried on with f^reat spirit and success. 
 It has formed an orchestra, comprising a splendid 
 assemblage of talent, and universally admitted to be 
 at least equal, if not superior, to any orchestra in 
 Europe ; and it has created a taste for the great sym- 
 phonies, and other instrumental works of Haydn, Mo- 
 zart, Beethoven, Cherubini, Spohr, &c., which were 
 previously unknown in England. 
 
 The Royal Academy op Music, formed upon the 
 plan of the British Institution for the encouragement of 
 Painting, was established in 1823, with the object of 
 promoting the cultivation of music among the natives 
 of this country, and of affording the means of complete 
 instruction in the art to a limited number of pupils. 
 The regular students (who, before being admitted, must 
 show some aptitude for music,) board in the house 
 of the institution, and, besides their musical tuition, 
 receive instructions in some of the more essential 
 branches of general education. There are also extra 
 students, who do not board in the house, and pay for 
 their tuition according to a higher rate than the regular 
 students. This institution has been successfully and 
 beneficially conducted. Several of the original students 
 have already attained very great distinction in their 
 profession ; and, from the talent exhibited at the public 
 concerts of the academy, there is every reason to be- 
 lieve that some of the present pupils will do honour to 
 their alma mater. The pieces performed at these con- 
 certs seem to indicate a somewhat exclusive preference 
 of theatrical music and of the foreign schools ; though 
 it must be considered that music chosen with the view 
 of attracting an audience, does not, perhaps, give a
 
 270 THE VOCAL SOCIETY. 
 
 just idea of the private studies and practice of the 
 pupils. The musical world is indebted to Lord Burg- 
 hersh, not only for the formation of the Royal Aca- 
 demy, but for his constant and zealous attention to its 
 interests. 
 
 The Vocal Society, founded in 1832, is an asso- 
 ciation of the most eminent vocal performers in the 
 metropolis, for the cultivation of vocal music. They 
 admit music of every denomination, whether ancient or 
 modern, sacred or secular, foreign or English, provided 
 it is of a high degree of excellence ; and bestow the 
 utmost care upon the correctness and purity of its 
 performance. As might be expected, they give peculiar 
 attention to some branches of music which have expe- 
 rienced unmerited neglect, particularly the madrigals of 
 the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and the works 
 of Purcell and other old English masters. The con- 
 certs of this society afford a most classical and elegant 
 entertainment, and have already had a beneficial influ- 
 ence on the public taste. 
 
 The Society of British Musicians was established 
 in 1834. Its object is the advancement of native 
 talent in composition and performance; and its pro- 
 spectus thus states the views with which it has been 
 formed : — 
 
 *' In an age like the present, so zealous in exertions 
 for the advancement of the liberal arts and sciences, and 
 in a metropolis so abundant in institutions to promote 
 that desirable object, it is an extraordinary fact, that 
 British music alone has escaped attention, — British 
 musicians alone have hitherto been destitute of the 
 advantages such institutions are calculated to afford.
 
 THE SOCIETY OF BRITISH MUSICIANS. 271 
 
 While the Royal Academy of Arts, and various other 
 establishments, have shed their fostering influence on 
 painting, sculpture, and their tributary arts, the British 
 musician has been left to his unaided endeavours to 
 combat the unjust prejudices of the unthinking, and to 
 compete with the composers of Continental Europe, 
 provided as they are with every assistance necessary for 
 the development of their genius and the display of their 
 talents. The overwhelming preponderance of foreign 
 compositions in all musical performances, while it can 
 scarcely fail to impress the public with the idea that 
 musical genius is an alien to this country, tends also to 
 repress those energies, and to extinguish that emulation 
 in the breast of the youthful aspirant, which alone lead 
 to pre-eminence. With a view to supply this defi- 
 ciency in our public institutions, to encourage the cul- 
 tivation of the higher branches of the art and science of 
 music, and to rescue merit from obscurity, by affording 
 to all British musicians the means of improvement and 
 publicity, — this Society has been established." 
 
 A society with such objects as these cannot fail to 
 have the best wishes of every lover of British music. 
 Its concerts have exhibited proofs of considerable, indeed, 
 in some instances, great, talent among the members. 
 The policy of excluding from the society all musicians 
 but natives of Great Britain, and from its concerts all 
 music but the compositions of its members, seems, at 
 least, questionable. But the working of the institution 
 will, in time, show the tendencies of its regulations ; 
 and where errors are found to have been committed, 
 they will doubtless be corrected. 
 
 The improvement of music, in all its branches, is
 
 272 MUSICAL PUBLICATIONS, 
 
 much promoted by numberless societies, clubs, and 
 other associations of a private nature, both in the 
 metropolis and the provinces. These form a bond of 
 union, mutually advantageous, between the professional 
 musicians and the amateurs, by establishing among 
 them a social intercourse, and combining them for an 
 object equally interesting to all, — the cultivation of the 
 art to w^hich they are all attached. 
 
 An eflfect of this improvement, and, at the same time, 
 a cause of its further progress, is the increased stimulus 
 which it has given to the publication of valuable and 
 important musical works. The splendid publications of 
 Mr. Novello, particularly his great selection from the 
 ecclesiastical works of the old Italian masters, published 
 under the title of The Pitzwilliam Music, his collections 
 of the masses of Haydn and Mozart, and his voluminous 
 edition of the works of Purcell, are evidences, not only 
 of the zeal and talent of this eminent musician, but of 
 a degree of enterprise which would have exceeded the 
 bounds of pnidence, unless warranted by the spirit of the 
 time. The recent edition of The Messiah, in full score, 
 including the additional accompaniments of Mozart, and 
 of some of Handel's other works ; Mr. Edward Taylor's 
 English editions of The Last Judgment and7V«? Crucifixion, 
 of Spohr ; the new and improved edition of The Crea- 
 tion, lately produced under the superintendence of 
 Neukomm ; the publication of that composer's oratorios 
 of Mount Sinai and David, — and of Mendelssohn's 
 St. Paul; the translation of the theoretical works of 
 Albrechtsberger ; and the fine edition of the works of 
 Beethoven now in progress under the superintendence 
 of Moscheles, — form but a part of the works of magni-
 
 INFLUENCE OF MUSIC. 273 
 
 tude which have appeared within these very few years. 
 The Harmxmicon^ a monthly journal, commenced in 1823, 
 and continued for ten years, has contributed greatly to 
 the diffusion of musical taste and knowledge, and forms 
 a record of the present state of music throughout the 
 world, which will be of the utmost value hereafter to 
 historians, and other writers on the art. It was suc- 
 ceeded by The Musical Library, which, for some time, 
 furnished the public with a monthly selection of the 
 most classical compositions of every school, with the 
 musical intelligence of the day, and much sound and 
 judicious criticism. The Musical World, a weekly 
 journal recently established, is calculated, from the 
 cheapness of its fonn, to draw increased attention to 
 musical matters. 
 
 The diffusion of a taste for music, and the increasing 
 elevation of its character, may be regarded as a national 
 blessing. The tendency of music is to soften and purify 
 the mind. The cultivation of a musical taste furnishes 
 to the rich a refined and intellectual pursuit, which 
 excludes the indulgence of frivolous and vicious amuse- 
 ments, and to the poor, a " laborum dulce lenimen" a 
 relaxation from toil more attractive than the haunts of 
 intemperance. All music of an elevated character is 
 calculated to produce such effects ; but it is to sacred 
 music, above all, that they are to be ascribed. Music 
 may sometimes be the handmaid of debauchery ; but 
 this music never can. Bacchanalian songs and glees 
 may heighten the riot of a dissolute party ; but that 
 man must be profligate beyond conception, whose mind 
 can entertain gross propensities while the words of 
 inspiration, clothed with the sounds of Handel, are in 
 
 VOL. II. T
 
 274 INFLUENCE OF MUSIC. 
 
 his ears. In the densely peopled manufacturing dis- 
 tricts of Yorkshire, Lancashire, and Derbyshire, music 
 is cultivated among the working classes to an extent 
 unparalleled in any other part of the kingdom. Every 
 town has its choral society, supported by the amateurs 
 of the place and its neighbourhood, where the sacred 
 works of Handel and the more modern masters are 
 performed with precision and effect by a vocal and 
 instrumental orchestra consisting of mechanics and 
 work people ; and every village church has its occa- 
 sional holiday oratorio^ where a well-chosen and well- 
 performed selection of sacred music is listened to by a 
 decent and attentive audience of the same class as the 
 performers, mingled with their employers and their 
 families. Hence the practice of this music is an ordinary 
 domestic and social recreation among the working classes 
 of these districts ; and its influence is of the most salu- 
 tary kind. The people, in their manners and usages, 
 retain much of the simplicity of " the olden time ;" the 
 spirit of industrious independence maintains its ground 
 among them, and they preserve much of their religious 
 feelings and domestic affections, in spite of the demora- 
 lizing effects of a crowded population, fluctuating em- 
 ployment, and pauperism. Their employers promote 
 and encourage so salutary a recreation, by countenancing 
 and contributing to pay the expenses of their musical 
 associations ; and some great manufacturers provide 
 regular musical instruction for such of their work-peoplo 
 as show a disposition for it. " It is earnestly to be 
 wished," says a late writer, " that such an example were 
 generally followed, in establishments where great num- 
 bers of people are employed. Wherever the working
 
 INFLUENCE OF MUSIC. 275 
 
 classes are taught to prefer the pleasures of intellect, and 
 oven of taste, to the gratification of sense, a great and 
 favourable change takes place in their character and 
 manners. They are no longer driven by mere vacuity 
 of mind to the beer-shop ; and a pastime, which opens 
 their minds to the impressions produced by the strains 
 of Handel and Haydn, combined with the inspired poetry 
 of the Scriptures, becomes something infinitely better 
 than the amusement of an idle hour. Sentiments are 
 awakened which make them love their families and their 
 homes ; their wages are not squandered in intemperance ; 
 and they become happier as well as better." 
 
 In every class of society the influence of music is 
 salutary. Intemperance may be rendered more riotous 
 and more vicious by the excitement of loose and profane 
 songs, and music may be an auxiliary to the meretricious 
 blandishments of the stage. But the best gifts of nature 
 and art may be turned to instruments of evil ; and music, 
 innocent in itself, is merely abused when it is conjoined 
 with immoral poetry and the allurements of pleasure. 
 *' Music," says Bumey, " may be applied to licentious 
 poetry ; but the poetry then corrupts the music, not the 
 music the poetry. It has often regulated the movements 
 of lascivious dances ; but such airs heard, for the first 
 time without the song or dance, could convey no impure 
 ideas to an innocent imagination : so that Montesquieu's 
 assertion is still in force, that ' Music is the only one of 
 all the arts which does not corrupt the mind.' " 
 
 X2
 
 APPENDIX.
 
 279 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 THE USE AND ABUSE OF IMITATION IN MUSIC. 
 
 []The following observations are extracted from Avison's 
 Essay on Musical Expression, a work which, is now 
 in few hands. Being founded on the immutable 
 principles of taste, they are applicable to the music 
 of all ages and countries, and have, therefore, lost 
 none of their value and interest by the lapse of 
 nearly a century. The whole work may still be 
 perused with much advantage by the musical 
 student.3 
 
 Expression in music arises from a combination of air 
 and harmony and is no other than a strong and proper 
 application of them to the intended subject. 
 
 From this definition it will plainly appear, that air 
 and harmony are never to be deserted for the sake of 
 expression : because expression is founded on them. 
 And if we should attempt anything in defiance of 
 these, it would cease to be musical expression. StiU 
 less can the horrid dissonance of cat-calls deserve this 
 appellation, though the expression or imitation be ever 
 so strong and natural. 
 
 And, as dissonance and shocking sounds cannot be 
 called musical expression ; so neither do I think, can 
 mere imitation of several other things be entitled to
 
 280 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 this name, which, however, among the generality of 
 mankind hath often obtained it. Thus the gradual 
 rising or falling of the notes in a long succession, is 
 often used to denote ascent or descent, broken intervals, 
 to denote an interrupted motion, a number of quick 
 divisions, to describe swiftness or flying, sounds resem- 
 bling laughter, to describe laughter; with a number 
 of other contrivances of a parallel kind, which it is 
 needless here to mention. Now all these I should 
 choose to style imitation, rather than expression ; 
 because, it seems to me, that their tendency is rather 
 to fix the hearer's attention on the similitude between 
 the sounds and the things which they describe, and 
 thereby to excite a reflex act of the imderstanding, 
 than to afi'ect the heart and raise the passions of 
 the soul. 
 
 Here then we see a defect or impropriety, similar to 
 those which have been above observed to arise from a 
 too particular attachment either to the modulation or 
 harmony. For, as in the first case, the master often 
 attaches himself so strongly to the beauty of air or 
 modulation, as to neglect the harmony ; and in the 
 second case, pursues his harmony or fugues so as to 
 destroy the beauty of modulation; so in this third 
 case, for the sake of a forced, and (if I may so speak) 
 an unmeaning imitation, he neglects both air and 
 harmony, on which alone true musical expression can 
 be founded. 
 
 This distinction seems more worthy our notice at 
 present, because some very eminent composers have 
 attached themselves chiefly to the method here men- 
 tioned ; and seem to think they have exhausted all the
 
 APPENDIX. 281 
 
 depths of expression, by a dexterous imitation of the 
 meaning of a few particular words, that occiir in the 
 hymns or songs which they set to music. Thus, were 
 one of these gentlemen to express the following words 
 of Milton: 
 
 Their songs 
 
 Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to heaven. 
 
 It is highly probable, that upon the word divide, he 
 would run a division of half a dozen bars ; and on 
 the subsequent part of the sentence, he would not 
 think he had done the poet justice, or risen to that 
 height of sublimity which he ought to express, till he 
 had climbed up to the very top of his instrument, or at 
 least as far as a human voice could follow him. And 
 this would pass with a great part of mankind for 
 musical expression, instead of that noble mixture of 
 solemn airs and various harmony, which, indeed, 
 elevates our thoughts, and gives that exquisite plea- 
 sure, which none but true lovers of harmony can feel. 
 
 Were it necessary, I might easily prove, upon general 
 principles, that what I now advance concerning musical 
 imitation is strictly just; both, because music as an 
 imitative art has very confined powers, and because, 
 when it is an ally to poetry (which it ought always to 
 be when it exerts its mimetic faculty) it obtains its 
 end by raising correspondent affections in the soul with 
 those which ought to result from the genius of the 
 poem. But I shall refer my reader, and content 
 myself, in this place, with adding two or three practical 
 observations by way of corollary to this theory. 
 
 1st. As music passing to the mind through the 
 organ of the ear, can imitate only by sounds and
 
 282 APPENDIX. 
 
 motions, it seems reasonable, that when sounds only 
 are the objects of imitation, the composer ought to 
 throw the mimetic part entirely amongst the accom- 
 panying instruments ; because, it is probable, that the 
 imitation will be too powerful in the voice which ought 
 to be engaged in expression alone ; or, in other words, 
 in raising correspondent affections with the part*. 
 Indeed, in some cases, expression will coincide with 
 imitation, and may then be admitted universally : as 
 in such chromatic strains as are mimetic of the grief 
 and anguish of the human voice f. But to the imita- 
 tion of sounds in the natural or inanimate world |, this, 
 I believe, may be applied as a general rule. 
 
 2ndly. When music imitates motions, the rhythm, 
 and cast of the air, will generally require, that both 
 
 * I cannot bring a finer illustration of my meaning, than from 
 the old song in Acis and Galatea. 
 
 Hush ye pretty warbling quire. 
 Your thrilling strains 
 Awake my pains, 
 And kindle soft desire, &c. 
 Here the great composer has very judiciously employed the 
 vocal part in the nobler office of expressing, with pathos, the 
 plaintive turn of the words, while the symphony and accompani- 
 ment very cheerfully imitate the singing of the warbling quire. 
 But had Mr. Handel admitted this imitation of sound into the 
 vocal part, and made it imitate the thrilling strains of the birds 
 by warbling divisions, it is manifest the expression would have 
 been much injured ; whereas, according to his management of it, 
 the imitation greatly assists the expression. 
 
 ■f As for example, the chorus of BaaVs Priests in Deborah^ 
 " Doleful tidings how ye wound." 
 
 J Such as the noise of animals, the roar of thunder, ocean, 
 &e. The murmur of streams.
 
 APPENDIX. 283 
 
 tte A'ocal and instrumental parts coincide in their 
 imitation. But then, be it observed, that the com- 
 poser ought always to be more cautious and reserved 
 when he applies this faculty of music to motion, than 
 when he applies it to sound, and the reason is obvious ; 
 the intervals in music are not so strictly similar to 
 animate or inanimate motions, as its tones are to 
 animate or inanimate sounds. Notes ascending or 
 descending by large intervals, are not so like the 
 stalking of a giant*, as a flow of even notes are to the 
 
 " A passage in Acis and Galatea, " See what ample strides he 
 takes," has been quoted as imitative of the Walk of Polypheme ; 
 but, I apprehend, the majesty of that air rather affected him 
 by an association of ideas, than any great similarity in the 
 imitation. 
 
 An association of this kind, seems to have struck the author of 
 the Paralele des Italiens et des Frangois en ce qui regarde la 
 Musique, " Pour la conformite (says he) de TAir, avec le sens 
 des paroles, je n'ai jamais rien entendu, en mati^re de sympho- 
 nies, de comparable a celle qui fut executfe a Rome, a I'Oratoire 
 de S. Jerome de la Charite, le jour de la Saint Martin de I'annee 
 1697, sur ces deux mots, mille saette, millefldches: c'etoit un 
 air dont les notes etoient point&s a la mani^re des Gigues ; le 
 caractere de cet air imprimoit si vivement dans I'ame I'idee de 
 fleche ; et la force de cette idde sednisoit tellement I'imagination, 
 que chaque violon paroissoit etre un arc ; et tous les archets, 
 autant de fleches decochdes, dont les pointes sembloient darder la 
 symphonie de toutes parts ; on ne sauroit entendre rien de plus 
 ingenieux et de plus heureusement exprime." 
 
 We may learn from this, how far musical imitation, simply 
 considered, may amuse the fancy of many who are less suscepti- 
 ble of the more delicate and refined beauties of expression. — The 
 particular felicity of tha Frenchman, in the musical performance 
 here described, seems to have depended on this similitude, viz. : 
 that every violin appeared as a bow, and all the bows, like so
 
 284 APPENDIX. 
 
 murmuring of a stream*; and little jiggish slurs are 
 
 many arrows shot off, the points of which, seemed to dart the 
 symphony tli rough all its parts. Perhaps, so far as imitation 
 was necessary, his observation might be just. But were this 
 an argument, that the business of imitation was superior to 
 every other in musical composition, it would reduce the noblest 
 species of it, still lower than the extravaganzi of the instrumental 
 performances which we have noted in the chapter on modulation. 
 
 • Here let me quote with pleasure, the air which Mr. Handel 
 has adapted to those charming words of Milton. 
 
 Hide me from day's garish eye. 
 While the bee, with honied thigh, 
 At her flow'ry work does sing. 
 And the waters murmuring ; 
 With such concert as they keep. 
 Entice the dewy-feather'd sleep. 
 And let some strange mysterious dream. 
 Wave at his ^vings in airy stream 
 Of lively portraiture display'd. 
 Softly on my eyelids laid. 
 Then, as I wake, sweet music breathe, 
 Above, about, and underneath ; 
 Sent by some spirit, to mortals good. 
 Or th' unseen genius of the wood. 
 
 Here the air and the symphony delightfully imitate the humming 
 of the bees, the murmuring of the waters, and express the ideas 
 of quiet and slumber; but what, above all, demands this 
 eulogium, is the master-stroke of accompanying the voice with 
 trebles and tenors, only when he comes to these words, " Then, 
 as I wake, sweet music breathe," where the bass begins with an 
 effect that can be felt only, and not expressed. 
 
 I have chosen to give all my illustrations on this matter from 
 the works of Mr. Handel, because no one has exercised his 
 talent more universally, and because these instances must also 
 be most universally understood.
 
 APPENDIX, 285 
 
 less like the nod of Alexander*, than certain shakes 
 and trills arc to the voice of the nightingale t. 
 
 3rdly. As music can only imitate motions and 
 sounds, and the motions only imperfectly ; it will 
 follow, that musical imitation ought never to be 
 employed in representing objects, of which motion or 
 sound are not the principal constituents. Thus, to 
 light, or lightning, we annex the property of celerity 
 of motion ; yet, it will not follow from thence, that an 
 extremely swift progression of notes will raise the idea 
 of either one or the other; because, as we said, the 
 imitation must be, in these cases, very partial :|:. Again, 
 it is one property of frost to make persons shake and 
 tremble ; yet, a tremulous movement of semitones, will 
 never give the true idea of frost : though, perhaps, they 
 may of a trembling person, 
 
 4thly. As the aim of music is to affect the passions 
 
 * With ravisli'd ears, 
 
 The monarch hears, 
 
 Assumes the God, 
 
 Affects to nod, 
 And seems to shake the spheres. 
 
 In which air I am sorry to observe, that the affectation of 
 imitating this nod, has reduced the music as much below the 
 dignity of the words, as Alexander's nod was beneath that of 
 Homer's Jupiter. 
 
 •\ Vide II Penseroso. 
 
 Sweet bird that shuns the noise of folly, 
 Most musical, most melancholy. 
 
 :|: What shall we say to excuse this same great composer 
 who, in his oratorio of Joshua, condescended to amuse the vulgar 
 part of his audience, by letting them hear the sun stand still.
 
 286 APPENDIX. 
 
 in a pleasing manner, and as it uses melody and 
 hannony to obtain that end, its imitation must never 
 be employed on ungraceful motions, or disagreeable 
 sounds ; because, in the one case, it must injure the 
 melody of the air, and in the other, the harmony of the 
 accompaniment ; and, in both cases, must lose its 
 intent of affecting the passions pleasingly. 
 
 5thly. As imitation is only so far of use in music, as 
 when it aids the expression ; as it is only analogous to 
 poetic imitation, when poetry imitates through mere 
 natural media, so it should only be employed in the 
 same manner. To make the sound echo to the sense 
 in descriptive lyric, and, perhaps, in the cooler parts of 
 epic poetry is often a great beauty ; but, should the 
 tragic poet labour at showing this art in his most 
 distressful speeches ; I suppose he would rather flatten 
 than inspirit his drama : in like manner, the musical 
 composer, who catches at every particular* epithet or 
 metaphor that the part affords him, to show his imita- 
 tive power, will never fail to hurt the true aim of his 
 composition, and will always prove the more deficient 
 in proportion as his author is more pathetic or sublime. 
 
 What then is the composer, who would aim at true 
 musical expression, to perform? I answer, he is to 
 blend such an happy mixture of air and harmony, as 
 will affect us most strongly with the passions or affec- 
 tions which the poet intends to raise : and that, on this 
 account, he is not principally to dwell on particular 
 words in the way of imitation, but to comprehend the 
 
 * To give but one instance, how many composers hath the 
 single epithet, " warbling," misled from the true road of expres- 
 sion, like an ignis fatuus, and bemired them in a pun ?
 
 APPENDIX. 287 
 
 poet's general drift or intention, and on this to form his 
 airs and harmony, either by imitation (so far as imita- 
 tion may be proper to this end) or by any other means. 
 But this I must still add, that if he attempts to raise 
 the passions by imitation, it must be such a temperate 
 and chastised imitation, as rather brings the object 
 before the hearer, than such an one as induces him to 
 form a comparison between the object and the sound. 
 For, in this last case, his attention will be turned 
 entirely on the composer's art, which must effectually 
 check the passion. The power of music is, in this 
 respect, parallel to the power of eloquence : if it works 
 at all, it must work in a secret and unsuspected manner. 
 In either case, a pompous display of art will destroy its 
 own intentions; on which account, one of the best 
 general rules, perhaps, that can be given for musical 
 expression, is that which gives rise to the pathetic in 
 every other art, an imaffected strain of nature and 
 simplicity*. 
 
 * Whatever the state of music may have been among the 
 ancient Greeks, &c., or whether it was actually capable of pro- 
 ducing those wonderful effects related of it, we cannot absolutely 
 determine ; seeing all the uses of their enharmonic scale are 
 totally lost ; and of their musical characters, which should have 
 conveyed to us their art, slender traces are anywhere to be found. 
 From the structure of their instruments, we cannot form any vast 
 ideas of their powers. They seem to have been far inferior to 
 those in use at present ; but which, indeed, being capable of as 
 much execution as expression, are only rendered more liable to 
 be abused. Thus, the too great compass of our modem instru- 
 ments, tempting as well the composer as performer, to exceed 
 the natural bounds of harmony, may be one reason why some
 
 288 APPENDIX. 
 
 authors have so warmly espoused the cause of the ancient music, 
 and run down that of the modern. 
 
 I believe we may justly conclude, that the force and beauties 
 of the ancient music did not consist so much in artful composi- 
 tions, or in any superiority of execution in the performance, as 
 in the pure simplicity of its melody ; which being performed in 
 unison, by their vast choruses of voices and instruments, no 
 wonder the most prodigious effects were produced. Since the 
 time of Guido Aretino, the laws and principles of harmony have 
 been considerably enlarged, and by rendering this art more 
 intricate and complex, have deprived it of those plain, though 
 striking beauties, which, probably, almost every hearer could 
 distinguish and admire. And, I don't know whether this will 
 not go some way, towards determining the dispute concerning the 
 superior excellency of ancient and moderu music. It is to be 
 observed, that the ancients, when they speak of its marvellous 
 effects, generally consider it as an adjunct to poetry. Now, an 
 art in its progress to its own absolute perfection, may arrive at 
 some intermediate point, which is its point of perfection, con- 
 sidered as an art joined to another art ; but not to its own, when 
 taken separately. If the ancients, therefore, carried melody to 
 its highest perfection, it is probable they pushed the musical art 
 as far as it would go, considered as an adjunct to poetry ; but 
 harmony is the perfection of music, as a single science. Hence 
 then we may determine the specific difference between the 
 ancient and modern compositions, and consequently their ex- 
 cellency.
 
 APPENDIX. 289 
 
 THE PROPER PERFORMANCE OF CHURCH 
 MUSIC*. 
 
 [From Avison's Essay on Musical Expression.] 
 
 We seem at present almost to have forgot that devotion 
 is the original and proper end of our church music. 
 Hence that ill-timed levity of air in our modern 
 anthems, that foolish pride of execution in our vo- 
 luntaries, which disgusts every rational hearer, and 
 dissipates, instead of heightning true devotion. 
 
 If our organist is a lover of poetry, without which, 
 we may dispute his love for music ; or indeed, if he 
 has any well-directed passions at all, he cannot but 
 feel some elevation of mind, when he hears the psalm 
 preceding his voluntary, pronounced in an awful and 
 pathetic strain. It is then he must join his part, and 
 with some solemn air, relieve, with religious cheerful- 
 ness, the calm and well-disposed heart. Yet, if he 
 feels not this divine energy in his own breast, it will 
 prove but a fruitless attempt to raise it in that of 
 others; nor can we hope to throw out those happy 
 instantaneous thoughts, which sometimes far exceed the 
 best concerted compositions, and which, the enraptured 
 performer would often gladly secure to his future use 
 and pleasure, did they not as fleetly escape as they 
 arise. He should also be extremely cautious of 
 imitating common songs or airs, in the subjects of this 
 latter kind of performance ; otherwise he will but too 
 much expose religion to contempt and ridicule. 
 
 It may not derogate from our subject of church 
 
 • See pages 56 and 89 of this volume. 
 VOL. II. U
 
 290 APPENDIX. 
 
 music, just to mention the present method of singing 
 the common psalm tunes in the parochial service, 
 which are everywhere sung without the least regard to 
 time or measure, by drawling out every note to an 
 unlimited length. It is evident, that both the common 
 and proper tunes were originally intended to be sung 
 in the alla-breve time, or the regular pointing of two, 
 three, or four minims in a bar : a kind of movement, 
 which every ear, with the least practice, may easily 
 attain ; nor when they are sung in parts, should there 
 be any more than three, i. e. one treble, tenor, and 
 bass ; as too complex an harmony would destroy their 
 natural air. And, in this style, our psalm tunes are 
 capable of all the solemnity that can be required from 
 such plain and unadorned harmony*. 
 
 Whoever has heard the Protestant congregations 
 abroad, sing, in parts, their psalms or hymns, may 
 
 • The pious and ingenious Mr. Watts, in his preface to his 
 translation of the psalms, very justly laments this miserable 
 drawling out the psalm. His remarks on this head so aptly 
 coincide with the subject in question, that I shall here tran- 
 scribe them. 
 
 " It were to be wished, that all congregations and private 
 families would sing as they do in foreign Protestant churches, 
 without reading line by line. It were to be wished also, that we 
 might not dwell so long upon every single note, and produce the 
 syllables to such a tiresome extent, with a constant uniformity 
 of time ; which disgraces the music, and puts the congregation 
 quite out of breath ; whereas, if the method of singuig were but 
 reformed to a greater speed of pronunciation, we might often 
 enjoy the pleasure of a longer psalm, with less expense of time 
 and breath ; and our psalmody would be more agreeable to that 
 of the ancient churches, more intelligible to others, and more 
 delightful to ouraelves."
 
 APPENDIX. 291 
 
 recollect, with some pleasure, that part of their religious 
 worship ; and their exceeding us so far in a perform- 
 ance of this kind, is chiefly owing to the exact measure 
 in which those tunes are sung, and not to their 
 harmony; for the greatest part of our own, which 
 were composed soon after the Reformation, by those 
 excellent masters we had at that time, would doubtless 
 be found, as well in regard to their solemn air, as 
 harmony, equal, if not superior, to any compositions of 
 their kind. And we may further observe, that air is, 
 in a higher degree, productive of both solemnity and 
 cheerfulness, than harmony ; for there is a dignity and 
 grace in the former, when invented by genius, which a 
 masterly harmony may indeed assist, but can never 
 produce. 
 
 However trifling it may appear to consider this 
 species of music, I cannot but own, that I have been 
 uncommonly afibcted with hearing some thousands of 
 voices hymning the Deity in a style of harmony 
 adapted to that awful occasion. But sorry I am to 
 observe, that the chief performer in this kind of noble 
 chorus, is too often so fond of his own conceits ; that 
 with his absurd graces, and tedious, and ill-connected 
 interludes, he misleads or confounds his congregation, 
 instead of being the rational guide and director of the 
 whole. 
 
 It may be thought, perhaps, by thus depriving our 
 organist of this public opportunity of showing his 
 dexterity, both in his voluntary and psalm tune, that 
 all performers indiscriminately, might be capable of 
 doing the duty here required ; but it will be found no 
 such easy matter to strike out the true sublimity of 
 
 u 2
 
 292 APPENDIX. 
 
 style, which is proper to be heard, when the mind is in 
 a devout state ; or, when we would be greatly solemn, 
 to avoid the heavy and spiritless manner, which, 
 instead of calmly relieving and lifting up the heart, 
 rather sinks it into a state of deprivation. 
 
 If it should be asked, who are the proper persons to 
 begin a reform in our church music ? It may be 
 answered, the organists of cathedrals, who are, or 
 ought to be, our maestri di capella, and by whom, 
 imder the influence and protection of their deans, much 
 might be done to the advancement of their choirs ; nor 
 would they find any difiiculty in accomplishing this 
 useful design, as there are many precedents to direct 
 them, both from Dr. Aldridge and others, who have 
 introduced into their service the celebrated Palestrina 
 and Carissimi with great success. And if this method, 
 when so little good music was to be had, hath been 
 found to advance the dignity and reputation of our 
 cathedral service ; how much more may be expected 
 at this time, from the number and variety of those 
 excellent compositions that have since appeared ; and 
 which may be easily procured and adapted to the 
 purposes here mentioned. 
 
 Thus, and thus alone, can we hope to reach any 
 tolerable degree of excellence in the nobler kinds of 
 musical composition. The works of the greatest 
 masters are the only schools where we may see, and 
 from whence we may draw, perfection. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 London : John W. Parkkr, St. Martin's Lanb.
 
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