In the piece that succeeds this, a Venetian air, the quantity, or time, as fixed by the notation, is as faulty as in the above instances. But here the metre of the verse, which is singularly irregular, may partly be made accountable. We extract the first stanza,— Farewell, Theresa! that cloud which over Yon moon, this moment, gath'ring we see, Shall scarce from her pure orb have pass'd, ere thy lover Farewell, Theresa! that cloud which over- -(a rest) The grape's own rosy daughter." A Highland melody, harmonized for three voices, completes the present number. We know not if the work is to be continued: but if materials equal to those which form this last part can be Shall scarce from her pure orb have pass'd, ere thy lover-a rest) || supplied, the public would have reason to regret its cessaSwift o'er the wild wave shall wander from thee. The air is too easy and calm for the words, which bear the reader along with them, making him a participator in their gloomy emotion: and, being set as a duet, the strong feeling of the language is much attenuated, if not quite subdued. If without a remark we had passed by these indefensible violations of the laws of prosody, our duty would have been ill performed. It is indeed high time to interpose in defence of poetry, the dangers of which, from the numerous host of soi-disant composers of vocal music, increase daily. How the errors that we have pointed out could have found their way into the work now under review, we cannot imagine; for Mr. Bishop is, we have always understood, a man of superior attainments," he is not to be counted in with the mob." And it is also to be presumed that Mr. Moore himself, than whom a better judge of music combined with poetry cannot be named,-revised the sheets before they were published. The truth is, that music and sense are too often separated, and the majority of those who could re-unite them, yield, more frequently than they ought, their better judgment to vicious custom. The remainder of this volume, the engravings excepted, offers us only matter for praise. The Savoyard air, in G minor, "How oft, when watching stars," is beautiful, and familiar to most lovers of song who have touched on Gallic ground. A few notes will revive it in their memories. tion. At whatever time, and under whatever guise, the muse of so popular and so great a poet as Mr. Moore condescends to appear, her coming is the signal of pleasure to all who are alive to the charins of verse warmed by passion, and refined by taste. A Selection of Welsh Melodies, with Symphonies and Accompaniments by JOHN PARRY. No. II. London, published by J. PoWER. NATIONAL MUSIC, however simple or rude, will always possess a powerful charm for the distantly-removed natives of its own country; so strong is the influence of association, and so actively is it engaged in the effects produced by the songs of our parent-land. To this principle may be attributed, in a considerable measure, the great success which has attended the various publications of Scotish and Irish Melodies; though we cheerfully and gratefully admit, that much of it has been owing to the intrinsic merit of those airs, and much to the beauty of the poetry written to them by BURNS and MOORE, the two greatest lyric poets of their respective countries. The Welsh are a much less numerous people than either the Scots or Irish, and seldom emigrate; their music, therefore, even if it were equal to that of the two latter, would not be in the same request; if it be granted-and the proposition will hardly be disputed,-that National Music, properly so called, acts chiefly by association, and that this association operates with the greatest energy upon those who are at a distance from home. The best Welsh airs ("Of noble race was Shenkin" always excepted), bear so much resemblance to other European music, that we have ever been much disposed to doubt their genuineness; and those which show the impress of originality are so rude, and so devoid of pathos, that they rarely penetrate farther than the ear of a Saxon or a Norman-they reach the heart of only the aboriginal Briton. The volume now before us consists of sixteen melodies, belonging, almost entirely, to that class, specified above, which retains no distinctive trait, and therefore not characterised by any thing very national; a few are pathetic, &c. particularly the first and last, both of which have something very touching in them. The second, sixth, and eleventh, are not quite free from the charge of vulgarity. The fourth, as a glee, is spirited and good; and the twelfth, to the tune of "Hunting the hare," is a lively bacchanalian song. The words are so carefully and judiciously set to them, that we have not discovered a single error in accent; and the poetry does great honour to the Cambrian muse. We should be glad could we extend our praise to the accompaniments, &c. We did not look for long, recherché sympouies, for such would have been misplaced we did not seek for "extraneous modulations and chromatic passages," for they would have been out of cha and only need add our regret that the author did not more assiduously revise his work, which manifests abundant proofs of haste or oversight, before he ventured to send it before the public tribunal of taste. The poetry is by Mrs. Hemans of St. Asaph,—J. H. Wiffin, Esq. of Woburn,-J. H. Parry, Esq.,-J. Jones, Esq., of Swansea,-J. A. Walker, Esq., of the 65th Regiment, and others; it is, we repeat, very beautiful, and proves that the spirit which animated the bards of ancient times, is still to be found amongst the Cambrian mountains. CAPRICCIO for the Piano-Forte, containing favourite Airs from MOZART's Operas of LE NOZZE DI FIGARO, and IL DON GIOVANNI; dedicated to Miss Lumsden. By J. B. CRAMER. Opera LXIV. Published by the Royal Harmonic Institution. THE talent for original composition in piano-forte music, which formerly produced three full-grown sonatas at a birth, and concertos of thirty and forty pages each, has been sterile for an age, and airs with variations have been, till very lately, the only offspring of men of genius, and the only progeny of men without genius. The public, who have in some matters an infinite stock of patience, at length were wearied by the intolerable dulness, and obstinate sameness of most of these novelties; and variations gave way, in their turn, to rondos, constructed upon popular melodies; some of which were, as they deserved to be, eminently successful. This new work of Mr. Cramer, which he calls a Capriccio, is also founded on favourite airs, and consists of an Introduction, or Prelude, in the style of his inimitable Exercises; an Andantino of his own, which shews all his taste and knowledge of harmony; to which he has added "Dove Sono," as a very elegant slow movement; the minuet from Don Giovanni, as an intermede, and the lively air and chorus from the same opera, "Giovinetti che fate all'amore," which he has converted into a brilliant and engaging rondo; the whole making one of the cleverest and most pleasing pieces, of this rank, that the author has ever given to the world, and one that we can venture to recommend to such performers as have become proficients in the musical art; for it is far from easy, though well worth the labour that may be bestowed in vanquishing the difficulties which each movement presents. PORTRAIT CHARMANT, a popular French Air, as a Rondo, with an Introduction, for the Piano Forte; composed and dedicated to Miss Gordon, by J. B. CRAMER. Published by the Royal Harmonic Institution. THIS air is justly admired, and is as familiar now to English ears as it has long been to foreign ones. The music of France is not high in repute out of its own country; but French composers occasionally, not very frequently it must be confessed, produce things which soon become popular every where, and are sometimes introduced in disguise on the English and other stages. Whenever, therefore, we meet with a piece of music, not being property, that possesses intrinsic merit, we shall, if calculated for our purpose, present it to our subscribers, without regard to its birth-place. The very ariette now under consideration, we have given entire, from the Paris copy, in this our first number. Mr. Cramer, in arranging Portrait Charmant as a rondo, has contrived it for performers of nearly all classes: it is, comparatively, easy, and though it is much too long for the matériel, and consequently rather heavy towards the end, yet, by carefully and with judgment retrenching some of the superfluous parts,-parts which only tend to increase of bulk,-it will become a very useful addition to the musical amusements of the domestic circle. THE DRAMA. DRURY-LANE THEATRE. On the 19th of last month, a new opera, under the title of A Tale of Other Times; or, Which is the Bride, said to be written by Mr. Dimond, was produced by the manager of this theatre; the music by Mr. T. Cooke and Monsieur Bochsa. It is not our business to examine the dramatic part of this piece; it was ennuyant enough to hear, and would be overwhelming to recollect. To speak of the musical share of the work is our only duty, and a doleful duty we find it. The newspapers, almost exclusively, have done strict justice to this precious opera; the Times summed up its merits in a short pungent sentence, and it has fallen, by its own weight, never to rise again. Nearly the whole of the music is by M. Bochsa, i. e. he has copied, borrowed, quoted" it from French and other operas, and his loans have been obtained from the poor in spirit. The overture is indeed "trumpetty," and marks the author as a valiant disciple of that school which, whatever its other qualities may be, certainly, as Rousseau says of it, makes the greatest noise in the world. But it was encored!—yes, because Mr. Bishop's had been encored a few nights before and, reader, if thou hadst seen the persons from whom the encoring and applause came-planted in different parts of the house-well instructed in the art of seeming to be in ecstasies,-accurately informed as to what was composed by M. Bochsa, what by Mr. Cooke, and scrupulously delicate and cautious in not giving any opinion of the compositions of the Englishman,-thou wouldst not have wondered, hadst thou witnessed all this, that the better and more sensible part of the town are not indefatigable play-goers. Our regret at seeing the efforts of such performers as Madame Vestris and Mr. Braham thrown away, was great indeed; the failure is imputable neither to them, nor to any other persons engaged in the opera, nor to Mr. Elliston-in so far as mere getting-up went-nor to the audience, who were patient to a miracle. From the appointment of Monsieur Bochsa, as composer of English dramatic music, at an English theatre, we are forced to conclude that musical talent is quite extinct in our country;-that the country of Purcell, Arne, Linley, Dibdin, Arnold, Shield, Storace, Attwood, Braham, Bishop, &c. &c., can no longer produce an English opera, but must be indebted to France for its dramatic compositions-to France! Our genius then is no more!-Peace to its manes! COVENT GARDEN THEATRE. A pretty, entertaining opera, named Maid Marian, or the Huntress of Arlingford, was brought out at this theatre on Tuesday, Dec. 3d, altered from one of Mr. Peacock's very clever novels, and set to music by Mr. Bishop. The music has been condemned as a series of plagiarisms from the composer's own self. If a man must steal, he cannot do an honester thing than steal his own property; but, except in one song, we do not discover this self-robbery. The music is, apparently, written to be in keeping with the drama, the scenery, and costume; being a good deal in the ancient style, it has little of the brilliancy and gewgaw of the present day, and abounds very mnch in glees and other pieces for many voices; some of which are very good; others rather too much prolonged, undoubtedly. The quartett in the first act, à l'antique, is of a very first-rate order, and proves Mr. Bishop's acquaintance with our early harmonists; though we by no means intend to express, or to insinuate, that he has made any unfair use of their thoughts. The overture is the weakest, though the loudest part, therefore most applauded. It is, to confess the truth, almost copied from Rossini. Mr. Bishop has no need of help in any department of musical composition; but if he must imitate, let him imitate a better school of instrumental music. This opera runs, and is become rather a favourite. The PHILHARMONIC CONCERTS begin on the 17th of February: they commence sooner than usual, on account of Easter falling so early. Signor Vaccari, the celebrated violinist, is engaged for the whole season. The CITY AMATEUR CONCERTS, which for three years, or more, have done so much credit to the taste of the leading commercial people of this vast town, are discontinued. THREE GLEE CONCERTS are announced by the Concentores Society, which will be given at the Argyll Rooms, early in the approaching season. THE HARMONICON. No. II., FEBRUARY, 1823. MEMOIR OF HAYDN. HAYDN was reputed, by his contemporaries, to have performed miracles; and he was once asked how he he worked them? his reply is worthy of the attention of all composers, living or unborn: "Let your air," said he "be good, and your composition, whatever it be, will be so likewise, and will assuredly delight. It is the soul of music,— the life, the spirit, the essence of a composition: without it, Tartini may succeed in discovering and using the most singular and learned chords, but nothing is heard after all, but a laboured sound, which though it may not vex the ear, leaves the head empty, and the heart cold and unaffected by it." He then produced a little blotted journal of the observations he had made whilst in England, in which he had noted down the air of a common hymn or chant, that he had heard sung in St. Paul's, by more than four thousand of the charity children of London; and after playing it over to his friends, he declared that that purely natural air gave him, when he first heard it, the greatest pleasure he had ever received from a musical performance. The air which could produce so powerful effect on the finest musician of the day, was the composition of Mr. Jones of the choir, and remarkable for nothing but its unpretending simplicity. sat down to his instrument without it, that he could not summon a single original idea. The paper too on which he wrote, must be of the very finest texture, and of the purest of all possible whiteness; and upon this he noted with so careful a neatness, that the best of copyists could not have excelled him in the clearness of his characters, though his notes had such slender tails, and little heads, that he sometimes would jocosely call them his flies' legs. After his first preparations, he began his work, by noting down the principal idea or theme, which was generally some little romance of his own invention, and embraced in its developement some wild adventure, such as mariners landing on an unknown isle, among savages, and savage sounds of war-cries, and barbarous snatches of music: the navigators and the natives become friendly, and they dance and sing their peculiar native airs: the ship then leaves the island; a storm rises, the sea is heard to roar, the winds to howl, the thunder to roll, and the lightning, by rapid sounds is represented to the ear, instead of to the eye, to flash fiercely and fearfully, and in the midst of all these warring and mingling sounds, almost as powerful as the elements they represent, the cries of the mariners are heard shrilly and pathetically: the ship weathers the storm, the sea gradually calms; favourable and gentle winds again begin to blow, they flutter among the sails that flap and babble with the fretful breeze; and the ship at last touches home, when the crew land amidst the cheerful cries of children, of friends, and wives, and the indicating a pleasant sense of happiness and peace. It was Leonardo da Vinci's custom, when he met with a beautiful face, to sketch it, from the hasty glance and memory of the moment, in a small book which he carried about him; and Haydn also as carefully noted down the original passages and the musical ideas of the moment, or any thing which struck him as curious in the composi-ringing of bells, and the symphony closes with a strain tions of others. As his productions were generally the creations of impulse, rather than of regular habits of study, these hints were afterwards useful to him; and when he was in a merry as well as a musical vein, he would hurry to his table, and write subjects and sketches for airs and minuets; but when he was touched with melancholy, as he too often was, he noted down new themes for andantes and adagios, and these, afterwards, in his more studious hours, if he required a passage of a particular character, either for liveliness or tenderness, he worked up into more finished compositions. He would not set down to write a symphony, unless he found himself in a particular state of inspiration. Like Buffon, too, he felt it necessary to indulge in some peculiarities of personal appearance, ere he could think himself fit for his task: he had his hair put in nice order, and dressed himself with some magnificence, as if he had been going to court. He had had a diamond ring presented to him by Frederic II: it was always worn these occasions; and he would sometimes insist, if he upon Others of his symphonies were of a more religious cast : in one of them he supposes a dialogue between an obdurate sinner and the Saviour, and in the end expresses, as closely as music can, the parable of the prodigal son. It is indeed to be regretted that the original titles of these pieces were not strictly preserved, for without the knowledge of these explaining circumstances, those beautiful symphonies lose half the effect of the composer's intention; but instead of those designations, however, they are absurdly called by numbers, which have of course no meaning, whilst such titles as "The Hermit," "The Wedding," and others equally significant, guide in some measure the imagina. tion of the hearer, which cannot too soon be awakened, or be too clearly made to understand the meaning and main intention of the piece. Haydn possessed an almost incredible acquaintance with every instrument which made a part of his orchestra. If any doubts arose during composition, his situation at F Eisenstädt, gave him the power of resolving them into || cholas, died. One singular consequence of this "still recertainties immediately. He rang his bell for a rehearsal, moved life" was, that as he never left the little town where the performers appeared, he caused them to execute the doubtful passages in two or three various ways, and making his choice of one of them, dismissed the orchestra, and returned to his labours. In his knowledge of sounds, he had early observed, to use his own words "what was good,-what was better,-what was bad." He had acquired this difficult knowledge from himself: he had closely observed what had passed in himself, and all he did was to re-produce, that others might feel it, what he himself had felt. He had one rule in his art, which he would never make known; for when his celebrated pupil, Weigl, entreated the disclosure of it, he could obtain no hetter reply than a recommendation to try to find it out himself. It is supposed that this secret consisted in his knowledge of the intimate dependance of melody upon harmony. the Prince had resided, he was the only musical man in Europe who was ignorant of the reputation of Joseph Haydn. He would perhaps have never quitted that place, had not, in sad addition to the loss of his patron, the death of Madame Boselli come upon him with its bereaving afflictions. He had been invited by the most celebrated directors and lovers of music in all the principal cities to visit them; but for a long time he declined their offers, though very honourable and advantageous to him. About this time, too, he rejected an offer from an amateur of Paris, which commissioned him to produce a vocal composition after the manner of Rameau and Lulli, passages of their works being at the same time sent to him as models. It is easy to conceive the effect which this ridiculous request had on him he returned the selected morsels, refusing the task with a most humorous maliciousness of manner, remarking that he was neither Lulli nor Rameau, nor even pupil of either, and that he unfortunately could only write music in the manner of Haydn. resided for more than a year, and the pieces that he composed for those concerts, which are indeed his finest instrumental efforts, were greatly admired. Whilst he resided here, he had two supreme gratifications: the one was hearing Handel in the height of his reputation, and the other, attending the Ancient Concerts of that celebrated society so styled, which then existed in great strength of talent and splendour of patronage. Notwithstanding a look of moroseness in the contour of his face, and a short hasty way he had of expressing himself, which led some to think him of an ill-natured dispo-a sition, he was, in fact, an open-hearted and humorous companion among his own friends, though serious and reserved Not long after the death of his favourite Boselli, howbefore strangers of rank, or any persons who stood much ever, he consented to come to England, upon the repeated upon the prim punctilios of etiquette. He had, indeed, a solicitations of the celebrated Salomon, who was then about genius for the comic in music; and very often at the re- to give concerts in the city, and offered Haydn fifty pounds hearsals, he would give his favourites in the orchestra pieces for each concert, terms which he accepted; and he soon of this kind of music, which when played by them, pro-after set out for England, at the age of fifty-nine. Here he duced shouts of laughter. But of all those lively efforts, there exists only that celebrated symphony, in which all the instruments fall off, one after the other, till the first violin is at last left playing by itself to the great dismay of the performer. It is said that this piece was composed by him to punish the mutineers of his orchestra, who had begun to set themselves against him for what they had pleased to call innovations; which he fully revenged by causing it to be played without rehearsal, so that each one of the performers thinking that he had individually committed some egregious error, the whole at last were left standing in the most staring state of astonishment, and especially the first violinist. This frolic gave great satisfaction to the prince; as did another, hardly less humorous, when he collected from a fair in the neighbourhood, a basket-full of children's fiddles, cuckoos, wooden trumpets, and other similar vehicles for the vilest of sounds; and most industriously studying the extent of their compass, composed a highly laughable symphony for these impotent instruments, some of which were, however, made to execute solos during the piece, the cuckoos being the general bass of the whole. Haydn was industrious as a composer; but he produced his best music with some labour, not from any want of ideas, but from the extreme delicacy of his taste, which he could not soon satisfy. A symphony would sometimes cost him a month; and a mass perhaps, two. His manuscripts of one piece, would sometimes contain passages enough for three or four pieces. But though it seemed labour, it was not so, for he was accustomed to say that he never felt so happy as when at work. Nothing troubled him at Eisenstädt, where his life was uniform, and his occupation delightful, till the year 1789, when his patron, Prince Ni During his first stay here, many whimsical circumstances happened to him, which he used afterwards to relate with much pleasure. Among others, he used to relate, that an English naval officer called on him early one morning, and being introduced to him, politely demanded whether he was willing to compose a march for some troops which he had on board, offering if he would, to give him thirty guineas for his trouble; but as he had to sail the next morning for Calcutta, it must necessarily be done during the day on which he called. Haydn agreed to the terms and the time, and setting down to his piano, in half an hour the march was done; but in the course of the day, feeling some scruples about taking so large a sum for such a trifle, he sat down again, and wrote two additional marches, intending to make him a present of the three for his liberality. Early the next day arrived the captain, and politely demanded his march. "Here it is," said the conscientious composer. He was requested to play it through: he did; the captain delightedly threw down the thirty guineas on the piano, and taking up the march walked hastily away. Haydn in vain, essayed to stop him: it was good, it was admirable. "But I have written two others, which are better: take your choice of them, take the whole of them!" cried Haydn "I have the first, and that will |