TERMS. Two dollars per annum, in advance. Single numbers five cents each. Subscribers in Boston, Cambridge and Charlestown can have their numbers left at their residences, if desired. Back numbers from the beginning can be furnished, and copies of the first volume (26 numbers) bound in cloth or paper. The postage on "To-Day," for distances not exceeding fifty miles, is five cents a quarter; and so for all other distances, it is at the lowest newspaper rate, but must be paid to the Postmaster quarterly in advance. Advertisements, books, communications, &c. may be left with the publishers. Subscriptions will be received by, and orders should be addressed to, the publishers, REDDING & Co., 8 State-street, Boston. DEXTER & BROTHER, 43 Ann-street, General Agents in New York. Aug. 14. D. B. NEWHALL, MANUFACTURER AND DEALER IN PIANO FORTES, No. 344 Washington Street, Boston. PIANO FORTES REPAIRED, TUNED, § TO LET. Apr. 10. tf IMPORTER OF AND DEALER IN EUROPEAN FANCY Goods, Novelties, Perfumery, Stationery, Cutlery, Musical Instruments, Umbrellas and Parasols. Articles for Presents-for the use of Travelers of Utility and Ornament, constantly for sale at the lowest prices. 129 WASHINGTON ST., four doors north of School St. Apr. 10. tf Diseases of the Eye and Ear. DR. FAVON MOSCHZISKER, German Ocu list, may be consulted on all the maladies of the Eye and Ear, at No. 21 Somerset Street. Boston, July 28. 17 3t HEWS' PATENT AMERICAN ACTION PIANO FORTE. OR I AM GOING THERE, tf R, THE DEATH OF LITTLE EVA. Written and inscribed to the Readers of "Uncle Tom's Cabin," by JOHN S. ADAMS. "Uncle Tom,' said Eva, 'I am going there.' "Where, Miss Eva?' "The child rose and pointed her little hand to the sky; the glow of evening lit her golden hair and flushed cheeks with a kind of unearthly radiance, and her eyes were bent earnestly on the skies."-Uncle Tom's Cabin, Vol. ii. p. 64. Words adapted to a favorite Melody, and beautifully illus trated. For sale by the Publisher, OLIVER DITSON, 115 Washington St., and by all Music Dealers. 15 tf NEW ORGAN VOLUNTARIES. JUST PUBLISHED, American Church Organ Voluntaries. CAREFU AREFULLY ARRANGED expressly for the use of Organists who have not had sufficient experience to extemporise with ease, by H. S. CUTLER, Organist at the Church of the Advent, and A. N. JOHNSON, Organist at Park Street Church, Boston. These Voluntaries are mostly arranged in close har mony, and can readily be played at sight by those who can play common church music. They are specially adapted to American church service with regard to length, &c. and are sufficient in number to enable any Organist to use them exclusively if desired. Price $1. Forwarded by mail, postage free, for $1.25. Published by 14 tf A. N. JOHNSON, 36 School St., opposite City Hak. NEW & VALUABLE MUSIC BOOKS RECENTLY PUBLISHED BY OLIVER DITSON,....BOSTON. SPOHR'S GRAND VIOLIN SCHOOL, being an exact reprint of the latest European editions, with all the author's new revisions and improvements. One volume, quarto. Price, $3. Among the many peculiar excellencies of this Violin School one is remarkable, that the Elementary Instructions do not precede the practical portion of the work as in other Schools, but are combined therewith; by this union the pupil is enabled to take the Violin in hand at the first lesson; in fact, he should and must then commence with it. The author's knowledge, as observable in his Preface, is no small addition to the truly practical distinctions of this School; his style is simple, clear, noble, and elegant, alike attractive and useful as a standard to the pupil as to the master. Czerny's Exercises in Velocity. (30 Etudes de la Velocite,) preceded by Nine New Introductory Exercises, and concluded by a New Study on Octaves, (composed expressly for this edition,) for the Piano Forte. From the Nineteenth London Edition, with Notes. By J. A. HAMILTON. In three Numbers. Price of each, 50 cents. Complete in one volume, $1.25. ** Calculated to develop and equalize the fingers, and to insure the utmost brilliancy and rapidity of execution. NEW AND ENLARGED EDITION OF The Seminary Class Book of Music, designed for Seminaries, High Schools, Private Classes, etc., containing Elementary Instructions, Vocal Exercises, Solfeggios, and a copious selection of Secular and Sacred Songs, Duets and Trios. By E. L. WHITE and T. BISSELL. *The above work has been before the public only one year, yet it has become a universal favorite, and is used in all parts of the Union. During the past year every inquiry has been made in order to ascertain in what way it could be improved and made fully equal to the wants of those for whom it is intended, and from suggestions thus obtained the publisher has been induced to add to and in other ways improve it. It is now pronounced to be exactly what is wanted, and as such it is offered to the public. The above books can be obtained in large or small quantities of the publisher, 115 Washington St., and of music dealers and booksellers generally throughout the United States and Canadas. 7 tf MUSIC BOOKS, PUBLISHED BY BENJAMIN B. MUSSEY & CO. 29 Cornhill, Boston. BE ERTINI'S PIANO FORTE INSTRUCTOR. A Progressive and Complete Method for the Piano Forte. By HENRY BERTINI. The only complete and correct edition published. The Modern Harp, or BOSTON SACRED MELODIST. A Collection of Church Music. By E. L. WHITE and J. E. GOULD. The Opera Chorus Book. Consisting of Trios, Quartets, Quintets, Solos, and Choruses, from the most popular Operas. By E. L. WHITE and J. EDGAR GOULD. Sabbath School Lute. A Selection of Hymns and appropriate Melodies, adapted to the wants of Sabbath Schools. The Tyrolian Lyre. A Glee Book consisting of easy pieces, arranged mostly for Soprano, Alto, Tenor, and Bass voices, for the use of Societies, Schools, Clubs, Choirs, and the social circle. By E. L. WHITE and JOHN E. GOULD. Sacred Chorus Book. Consisting mostly of Selections from the works of HANDEL, HAYDN, MOZART, MENDELSSOHN, ROMBERG, NEUKOMM, ROSSINI, &c. &c., with an accompaniment for the Organ or Piano Forte. Suitable for singing societies, and advanced schools. By EDWARD L. WHITE and J. EDGAR GOULD. The Jenny Lind Glee Book. Consisting of the most popular Songs sung by Mad'lle JENNY LIND. By DAVID PAINE. Popular School Song Books; THE WREATH E. H. WADE, 197 Washington Street, Boston. PUBLISHER & DEALER IN SHEET MUSIC and Musical Merchandise of every description. Publisher of BERTINI'S METHOD FOR THE PIANO. New and Second Hand Pianos, bought, sold and exchanged. Cash paid for Pianos. PIANOS TO LET. E. H. Wade's Catalogue at present comprises all of the Music published by W. H. OAKES, C. BRADLEE & Co. and A. & T. P. ORDWAY, making it the largest and most valuable one in the country; which, with a large exchange list, enables him to offer every inducement to the trade, to Seminaries, to Professors and the musical public, for their patronage. Apr. 10. tf NEW JUVENILE SINGING BOOK. THE PESTALOZZIAN SCHOOL SONG BOOK, large number of Popular Airs and Tunes, arranged to be sung by note, are employed as progressive exercises,) a large collection of SCHOOL SONGS, together with a full variety of HYMNS and SACRED TUNES, for the devotional exercises of Schools. By GEO. W. PRATT, Teacher in the State Normal Schools, and J. C. JOHNSON, Author of Juvenile Oratorios, &c. This work is on an entirely new plan, and is believed to be a great improvement upon any Juvenile work heretofore published. A copy for examination will be sent by mail, postage paid, upon the receipt of twenty-five cents. Published by A. Ñ. JOHNSON, T containing a Complete Elementary Course, in which a 36 School St., Boston. A. N. JOHNSON respectfully informs his friends that he has taken the new store No. 36 School Street, (a short distance from his former location in the Tremont Temple,) where he will keep a full assortment of Music, Singing Books, Piano Fortes, Reed Organs, Melodeons, &c. &c. Orders by mail promptly executed. 1 tf BOSTON MUSIC HALL. JOTICE is hereby given that the BOSTON MUSIC HALL Assotheir HALL and LECTURE ROOM, (entrance on Bumstead Place and on Winter Street,) by Religious Societies, for the purpose of regular worship on Sundays, after the 15th of NoJember next. The MUSIC HALL, furnished with Organ, &c., will seat three thousand persons, and the LECTURE ROOM, eight hundred. Written applications may be addressed to the subscriber, at No. 39 Court Street, who will give such further information as shall be desired. FRANCIS L. BATCHELDER, 10 tf Clerk B. M. H. A. CHOICE MUSIC BOOKS PUBLISHED AND FOR SALE BY OLIVER DITSON, 115 Washington Street, Boston. CZERNY'S Method for the Piano, Bertini's Instructions for the Piano, Curtis's Complete Method for Guitar, NEW MUSICAL PUBLICATIONS. |EO. P. REED & CO. have just issued a new edition Gof the is BOSTON ACADEMY COLLECTION w editio RUSES," price reduced from 24 to $14 a dozen. PERGOLESE'S celebrated STABAT MATER for two female voices, newly translated by J. S. DWIGHT, Esq., a welcome work to lovers of good music. The Nightingale's Nest, a Cantata by the eminent German composer, REICHARDT, translated by Mr. THAYER of Cambridge. A beautiful piece, suitable for concerts, taking about forty minutes to perform it; consisting of Solos for bass, tenor, and soprano voices, with Choruses. Price, $6 the dozen. Also BEYER'S New Instructions for the Piano; Materials for Piano Forte Playing, by JULIUS KNORR, a work highly approved by the best teachers. Price, $2. G. P. R. & CO. have also received a further supply of the valuable publications of J. ALFRED NOVELLO of London, for whom they act as agents-consisting of the ORATORIOS of HANDEL, HAYDN, and MENDELSSOHN, and the complete Masses of MOZART, HAYDN, BEETHOVEN, S. WEBB, VON WEBER, and others, with the finest collection of BACH'S FUGUES, and music generally for the organ, that has ever been seen in Boston. Apr. 10. tf CZERNY'S PIANO FORTE METHOD. As & Manual to Teachers and Amateurs it is invaluable.— London Morning Chronicle. It is one of the most valuable contributions to the art.London Musical World. In regard to interest and utility it can never be surpassed.J. A. Hamilton. It is a work of uncommon merit-one superior to all others. -Drawing-Room Journal, Philadelphia. A splendid acquisition to the list of American publications. -Philadelphia Saturday Courier. It is rapidly taking the place of all other methods.—Philadelphia Inquirer. It is calculated to impart a ready and thorough knowledge of the art.-Baltimore Patriot. A book of invaluable worth as a code of thorough systematic education.-Philadelphia Sun. It is the most complete system published.-Norfolk County Journal. We cannot too strongly recommend this excellent work.— N. Y. Scientific American. The most thorough and complete work of the kind.-Mason's Choral Advocate. A deservedly popular work.-Philadelphia Mercury. Czerny can boast of having given to musical Europe Thalberg, Listz and Doehler.-La France Musicale. This book must be of great value in schools and families.— N. Y. Observer. There is no book published, which can compare with thisEast Boston Ledger. It is eminently a book for the people.-Boston Transcript. Powerful aids to the learner are embraced in this work.Message Bird. It is a standard work in the musical circles of Great Britain. -The Asmonean. Published by OLIVER DITSON, 115 Washington Street, Boston. Sold by all Music Dealers and Booksellers in the Union. Apr. 10. tf J. BUTTERFIELD, JOB PRINTER AT THE OFFICE OF Journal VOL. I. of Music. A Paper of Art and Literature. BOSTON, SATURDAY, AUGUST 21, 1852. In the narrow street of St. Christofero, in Catania, and near the little church of the same order, now superseded by a larger edifice, was born the most beautiful composer of our times. To the imaginative mind of Isabel his name and memory were sacredly endeared. It has been said that no after maturity of judgment can dissolve the spell by which the first poet we ever understood and enjoyed is hallowed in our estimation. On the same principle, the composer whose works are the means of awakening in our hearts a new sense of the wonder and power of his art, whose compositions sway our spirits as no others have done, and address our associations with an eloquence, compared with which all similar language is unimpressive, holds a place in our estimation and affections second to that of no intellectual benefactor. He has opened to us a new world. He has brought a hitherto untried influence to stir the ocean of feeling. He has created yet another joy in the dim circle of our experience, and woven a fresh and perennial flower into the withered garland of life. With the thought of Bellini, embalmed in such a sentiment of gratitude, Isabel, accompanied by the count, who had arranged the visit for her gratification, went forth to view the memorials of the departed that were in the possession of his family. "The young Vincenzo," said Vittorio, "from his earliest infancy, gave evidence of the genius of his nature. His susceptibility to musical sounds was remarkable. He could be moved, at any time, to tears or laughter, to sadness or ecstacy, by the voice of harmony. While a mere child, after hearing on public occasions a new air, he would, on returning home, from memory transcribe it. At eight years old his little hands ran over the keys of the organ, at the Benedictine convent, with surprising facility. His first compositions were occasional pieces of sacred music. It was early discovered that he was a proper object of patronage, and, soon after arriving at manhood, he was sent, at the expense of government, to study at Naples and Rome. The result of an acquaintance with what had been effected in his art was to make more clearly perceptible to his mind the necessity of a new school. The history of genius in every department is almost always a record of conflicts-of struggles against what is dominant. Thus the early efforts of Bellini were frequently unappreciated and misunderstood. Still he persevered in consulting the oracle of his own gifts, and in developing the peculiar and now universally admired style which marks his compositions. The first of his successful operas was the Pirata, then the Straniera, then the Somnambula, and then Norma.* In each successive work we can trace a decided progression. The first is pretty, often beautiful; the last is throughout beautiful, and frequently sublime. It is a delightful thought, that in a country where literary talent is repelled by the restrictions on the press, musical genius is untrammelled, and human sentiment may, through this medium, find free and glorious development." "I have always regarded music," said Isabel, "as the perfection of language." "Undoubtedly it should be so considered, and although the censors jealously guard the actual * L' Adelson e Salvini, represented before the Institution at Naples, was the first open experiment of Bellini's genius, followed, in 1826, by Bianca e Fernando, at the St. Carlo Theatre. Il Pirata and La Straniera, successively produced at the Scala in Milan, completely established his reputation. The Montecchi e Capuleti was brought out soon after at Venice. The Sonnambula and Norma at Milan, and the Puritani in Paris. NO. 20. verbal expressions attached to operas, to a true imagination and just sensibility, the mere notes of masterpieces are perfectly distinguishable, as expressive of the thousand sentiments which sway the heart. Bellini, it is believed, was one of that secret society which has for some time existed, under the title of "Young Italy," whose aim is the restoration of these regions to independence; and we can read, or rather feel, the depth and fervor of his liberal sentiments, breathing in the glowing strains of his last opera-the Puritani." Thus conversing, they arrived at the residence of his family, where, with emotions of melancholy interest, they viewed the tokens of his brief but brilliant career. There were little remembrancers whose workmanship testified that they were wrought by fair hands; the order of the legion of honor; a rich carpet, worked by the ladies of Milan, with the names of his operas tastefully interwoven, and many fantasies and fragments written by his own hand. There was something indescribably touching in the sight of these trophies. Isabel felt, as she gazed upon them, how empty and unavailing are the tributes men pay to living genius compared with that heritage of fame which is its after-recompense. What were these glittering orders to the breast they once adorned- -now mouldering in the grave? And these indications of woman's regard, which, perhaps, more than any other, pleased the heart of the young Catanese? How like the deckings of vanity did they seem now, when he for whom they were playfully wrought was enshrined among the sons of fame! How sad, too, to behold the slight characters and unconnected notes-the recorded inspiration of him who alone could rightly combine and truly set forth their meaning! How affecting to look upon these characters- the pencilling of genius, and remember that the hand which inscribed them was cold in the tomb! But Isabel dwelt longest and most intently upon a miniature of Bellini, taken at the age of twenty-three, after the representation of the Pirata. It portrayed the youthful composer with a pale intellectual countenance, an expansive and noble brow, and hair of the lightest auburn. There was a striking union of gentleness and intelligence, of lofty capacity and kindly feeling, in the portrait. "How unlike the generality of his countrymen!" exclaimed Isabel, who had looked for the dark eye and hair of the nation. "Nature, in every respect," replied Vittorio, "marked him for a peculiar being. Yet the softness and quiet repose of the countenance is like his harmony. The mildness of the eye and the delicacy of the complexion speak of refinement. The whole physiognomy is indicative of taste and sentiment, a susceptibility and grace almost womanly, and, at the same time, a thoughtfulness and calm beauty, which speak of intellectual labor and suffering. The face of Bellini here depicted, is like his music, moving, expressive, and graceful. I have seen portraits taken at a later age with less of youth, and perhaps, for that reason, less of interest in their expression. During his lifetime all he received for his works, not absolutely requisite for his support, was immediately sent to his family. And now his aged father may be said, in a double sense, to live on the fame of his son, since, in consideration of that son's arduous labors in the cause of music, which in southern Europe may be considered perhaps the only truly national object of common interest, the old man receives a pension from government, adequate to his maintenance.” "I think," said Isabel, as the party were seated in the opera-house the same evening, "that the great characteristic of Bellini is what may be called his metaphysical accuracy. There is an intimate correspondence between the idea of the drama and the notes of the music. What a perfect tone of disappointed affection lurks in the strain: Ah! perche non posso odiarti?'- the favorite air in the Somnambula; and who that should unpreparedly hear the last duet in Norma, would not instantly feel that it is the mingled expression of despair and fondness? How warlike and rousing are the Druidical choruses, and what peace breathes in the Hymn to the Moon! It is this delicate adaptation of the music to the sentiment, this typifying of emotion in melody, that seems to me to render Bellini's strains so heartstirring." "In other words," said Vittorio, "he affects us powerfully, for the same reason that Shakspeare, or any other universally acknowledged genius, excites our sympathy. His music is true. He has been called the Petrarch of harmony, that poet being deemed hy the Italians the most perfect portrayer of love." "And would that his fate had been more like that bard's!" exclaimed Isabel. "How melancholy that he should have died so young, in the very moment, as it were, of success and honor! I shall never forget the sorrow I felt when his death was announced to me. I was in a ballroom. The scene was gay and festive. The band had performed in succession the most admired quadrilles from his operas. I was standing in a circle which surrounded a party of waltzers, and expressed the delight I had received from the airs we had just heard. My companion responded, and sighing, calmly said, 'What a pity he will compose no more!' When I thus learned the fact of his death, and afterwards the particulars, a gloom came over my spirits, which, during the evening, had been uncommonly buoyant. I retired to the most solitary part of the room, and indulged the reflections thus suddenly awakened. 'How few,' thought I, ' of this gay throng, as they dance to the enlivening measures of Bellini, will breathe a sigh for his untimely end, or give a grateful thought to his memory.' Some of the company passed me on their way to the music room. I joined them. A distinguished amateur, with a fine bass voice, had taken his seat at the instrument. For a moment he turned over the book listlessly, and then, as if inspired by a pleasing recollection, burst forth in that mournfully beautiful cavatina: 'Vi ravisso, luoghi ameni.' He sang it with much feeling. There was silent and profound attention. The tears rose to my eyes. To my excited imagination we seemed to be listening to the dirge of Bellini; and, as the last lengthened note died on the lips of the vocalist-thus, thought I, he expired. Little did I then think I should ever see the native city of the composer, or sit in the opera-house which he doubtless frequented." "It but this moment occurred to me," replied Vittorio, "that, in this very place Bellini first learned to appreciate the science he afterwards so signally advanced; to realize the expressiveness of the agency he afterwards so effectually wielded; to feel the power of the art to whose advancement he afterwards so nobly contributed. Perhaps here first dawned on his young ambition the thought of being a composer. Perhaps, as the breathings of love, grief, fear, and triumph here stirred his youthful breast, the bright hope of embodying them in thrilling music, and thus living in his land's language,' rose, like the star of destiny, before his awakened fancy." There is a narrow but sequestered road leading from Catania to Cifali, just without the Porta D' Aci. A low plaster wall separates it on both sides from extensive gardens, the site of an ancient burial-place, where memorials of the dead have been frequently disinterred. Over the top of these boundaries the orange and almond trees, in the season of spring, refresh the pedestrian with their blossoms and perfume. In the early mornings of summer, or at the close of the day, this road is often sought by the meditative, being less frequented than most of the other highways leading from the city. There one can stroll along and interest himself with the thought of the now extinct people near whose ruined sepulchres he is treading, or gaze upon the broad face and swelling cone of Etna which rises before him. At an agreeable distance from the commencement of this path is an old monastery of Franciscans. The floor of the venerable church is covered with the deeply-carved tablets, beneath which are the remains of the Catanese nobility, their arms elaborately sculptured upon the cold slabs. Strangers sometimes visit a chapel adjacent to see a well-executed bust, which displays the features of the nobleman who lies beneath, and is thought to be the capo d'opera of a Roman sculptor. The adjoining chapel is assigned as the last resting-place of Vincenzo Bellini, whose monument will soon exhibit its fresh-chiselled aspect amid the time-worn emblems around. Thither, one morning, Isabel and the count wandered, and, after leaving the church, sat upon a stone bench which overlooked the scene, and to her inquiries as to the funeral honors paid, in his native island, to the memory of the composer, he replied: "You should have witnessed in order to realize the universal grief of the Catanese. Business was suspended. Every voice faltered as it repeated the tidings; every eye was moistened as it marked the badges of mourning. In the capital the same spirit prevailed. There, but a few months previous, the king entered the city, and no voice hailed him, because the professions made at the outset of his reign were unfulfilled. The gifted composer came, and acclamations welcomed him. Every testimony of private regard and public honor was displayed. His sojourn was a festival-so the news of his death created universal grief. Here, in the spirit of antiquity, an oration was pronounced in the theatre, his favorite airs performed, and actors, in the old Sicilian costume, represented the effect of his death by an appropriate piece, with mournful music. In the streets were processions, in the churches masses, and in the heart of every citizen profound regret." "And this," said Isabel, glancing over the scene, "is a fit place for his repose. He will sleep at the foot of Etna, amid the nobles of his native city. The ladies of this villa, as they wander through the garden in the still summer evening, will sing his most soothing strains. The peasant, as he rides by on his mule, at the cool hour of dawn, will play upon his reeds the gladdest notes, the choir in the church will chant the anthems, and the blind violinist, as he rests by the road-side, cheer himself with the pleasant music of the departed composer." They rose to depart. As Isabel looked back, and began to lose sight of the ancient convent, she observed a lofty cypress at the corner of the road. As its dense foliage waved solemnly, and its spire-like cone pointed heavenward, it appeared to her saddened fancy like a mournful sentinel, standing to guard from sacrilege, and point out for homage, the last resting-place of Bellini. [From Cocks's Musical Miscellany.] Provision for the Musician. (Concluded.) We are not, in the heterogeneous suggestions we have here thrown together, endeavoring to invoke public charity on behalf of the musician, though the benevolence of an enlightened people might find a less honorable field for the exertion of its energies. Our observations are addressed first and foremost to musicians themselves. They have in themselves, to speak mechanically, a power, if they knew how to use it. The coals which lie black and inert upon your wharfs are bye and bye converted into an active agency, which is reeling cotton at the rate of millions of yards per minute, or snorting in gusty impatience as it heaves the vessel on its way, or drinks up and disgorges the flood of the mine. The energies of the professional body are now inoperative as the latent power of the coal on the wharf. But the power, though latent, is there, and it only remains for some clever engineer to show them how "to get up the steam." Is there not sufficient esprit-de-corps amongst them to induce them to aim at letting their individual respectability go hand in hand with the respectability of their order? Comparatively few have been their combined efforts to promote the dignity of the profession. There is the Royal Society for the support of decayed Musicians an association formed more than a century ago, and, as its name implies, under the highest auspices. Handel, whose heart, after all, seems to have been as gentle as his manner was rough, bequeathed a thousand pounds to this society. Signora Storace also left it a like munificent sum. It is patronized by the élite of the profession, and among its pensioners it reckons, at present, some bearing names of honor. No one, we believe, questions the purity of its officers and directors; but many appear to think that it is conducted much in the spirit of a close corporation. At any rate, it is able to disburse upwards of two thousand pounds yearly in a select way, for the best of purposes, namely, to support dejected age, and to feed and educate the unprotected orphan. A goodly sum in itself, certainly; but one can scarcely avoid asking, "What is that among so many ?" Professors have but to condescend to take a lesson from the operative bodies, to the effect that "union is strength!" A rope of sand would not raise even an empty bucket from a well. In combination is unlimited power. A trifling quarterage levied upon the whole body would form the nucleus of a fund, from which suffering members might draw relief, not as of charity, but of right. The trade would submit to a certain honorary tribute, in consideration of the advantages derived by them from the working body: a like tribute might be raised, in the shape of black mail, from the concert rooms; while the power of sweet sound might be evoked to do, in annual festivals, for the professors of the art, what it has so often done for strangers, and swell the united fund to an undefinable extent. Here, indeed, is a rich and unlimited source of wealth. What would be the proceeds of a benefit concert in all the music halls and concert rooms in England? and we might even have the audacity to ask for a yearly collection in every church, under the threat of a strike in the organ lofts in case of recusancy. Sixteen thousand pounds were thrown into the coffers of the Royal Society of Musicians just referred to, as part of the profits of the great Commemoration of Handel, in 1784; and that society also received upwards of two thousand pounds, a fourth part of the proceeds of the Royal Festival, in Westminster Abbey in 1834. The Foundling Hospital netted more than ten thousand pounds, by ten performances of the "Messiah"-in gratitude for which, by the way, the governors of that institution manifested an inclination to bring the composer into court upon the question of his copyright. With such means at their disposal, with a power in their own keeping, which is rivalled by nothing but the genii of an oriental tale, how is it that the profession is so self-denying as to remain worse provided for than almost any body of men that can be named? It is strange, that, while public sympathy has descended to embrace, not only the children of the honest poor, but even to rescue the juvenile felon and educate him by force- while numerous institutions have been formed for the education of children of all ranks - while the Blue Coat School continues to open its princely halls expressly for the reception of such as do not stand in need of its aid while Mr. Whiston has been bruising his shins, stumbling amongst the ruins of the magnificent educational establishments of the "and the spectaclecountry in the olden timemaker" has been offering the use of his most powerful glasses to assist collegiate bodies to read their own constitutions - it is strange that, amidst all this educational stir and turmoil, musicians have never once thought of the formation of an institution for affording their children an education suitable to the rank which they are well entitled to claim. Among the more recent efforts of this nature, we have lately seen a body of men who are by no means famous for provident habits, the Commercial Travellers establishing a school for the orphan and necessitous children of members of their society. One could hardly have anticipated so enlightened a movement in such a quarter while it should be recollected that the necessities of the orphan, it was, that gave birth to the Royal Society of Musicians. Two or three of his contemporaries, while standing at the door of the Orange Coffee-house, in the Haymarket, saw the children of Kytch, the oboeplayer, driving milch-asses. They contributed a sum for the rescue of the innocent victims of a father's improvidence; and their contributions formed the basis of this really noble institution. But, since we have begun to institute a comparison, we must remark, that the Travellers annually raise a splendid revenue for making a suitable provision for a large number of children — their last report exhibiting an expenditure of more than six thousand pounds within the year, while the Musicians' Society, according to the last of their reports, which we have at handnamely, that of 1847 - seem to have disbursed only NINETY-SEVEN POUNDS for the exact purpose of Education! It must, however, be observed that the aggregate of their expenditure includes also sums paid on behalf of the orphans, of which no particular account is given. It is not, however, on behalf of the orphans of the recklessly improvident alone that the appeal should be made. There are misfortunes such as no foresight can anticipate-no prudence avert. We cannot refuse ourselves the satisfaction of quoting a passage which happens to be at this moment under our eye, from a sermon preached a hundred and twenty years ago, at the Festival of the Three Choirs, at Hereford; because we should be extremely sorry not to think that there are members of the musical profession to whom it is, in its degree and manner, applicable. “I shall beg leave only," says the preacher, speaking of the children of his deceased brethren, "to observe, what should further bespeak our commiseration of those Friendless Orphans: that the Poverty of their Parents may have been owing to what must be ever esteemed their greatest honor. They are seldom followers of Fortune. Content in their lower Sphere, they are not studious of the Art of Rising nor acquainted with those Compliances, which the wiser children of this world call Prudence." [From the Christian Inquirer, (N. Y.) Aug. 11.] TRUE POETRY. The difference between true poetry and factitious poetry is perhaps this: the last is written, the first writes itself. In the one case the poet or poetess appears manifest, in the other the poetry; in the one case it was the evident intention to write some fine lines, in the other case there was something in the heart that must be said. Hence the sharp-sighted Greeks, who knew all these things, symbolized the source of poetry as a fountain. But most of our poetry is taken from wells, or forced up by pumps. It is therefore refreshing to meet with a genuine expression of the soul, like that which I copy for you below. A friend showed these lines to me, and asked who was the writer. I had not seen them, but perhaps some of your readers can say. I. J. F. C. O heart! long dormant in thy dreary pain, Around thee everywhere on life's wide page, The beauty and the glory liveth still; The sacred light upon the brow of age, The strength of youthful hand and earnest will. III. Earth hath her field of labor, rich and broad; IV. O heart, poor heart, that madest thyself a tomb O wasted years! - and yet not wasted all; Does not the ploughman rend, then sow the plain? What though spring flowers beneath the ploughshare fall; Shall not the harvest smile with golden grain? Here is the motto of the New England Psalm Singer or American Chorister, by William Billings, a native of Boston, in New England. The book was published in 1770. "O, praise the Lord with one consent, By the quality no less than by the fulness and versatility of this collection have we again been led to speculate hopefully on the intense curiosity which prevails in the New World with regard to all manner of works of art and imagination, and to the thoughts and lives of those who produce them. This thick and rather costly book is, after its kind, a manifestation as suggestive as the classes of talking ladies in Boston who assembled to be instructed by Margaret Fuller concerning the "idea of Jupiter," the "idea of Bacchus," and the like Arcadian and classical topics.-London Athenæum. [From "Reminiscences of MICHAEL KELLY."] Musical Critics at Rome, A. D. 1779. The day after our arrival, we went to the Corso, where the sports of the carnival were going on. There was to be seen the whole population of Rome, high and low, rich and poor, en masque; the nobility and ladies in their most splendid equipages, all masqued, throwing sugar-plums to the motley group below, which was composed of mountebanks, pulcinellas, cardinals, harlequins, &c., with music, dancing, singing. — In short, I was in a delirium of pleasure! Every evening, we visited the theatres: -- there are two for serious operas, the Aliberti and the Argentina, where the best performers are always found; indeed, should the manager attempt to introduce anything inferior, woe be to him! and, as these theatres are only allowed to be open during the carnival, he is obliged to pay enormous salaries to procure the first singers; for the Romans will have the best or none. There are also two theatres for comic operas, La Capranica and La Valle. "it The Romans assume that they are the most sapient critics in the world; they are, certainly, the most severe ones:- - they have no medium, all is delight or disgust. If asked whether a performance or a piece has been successful, the answer, if favorable, is, è andato al settimo cielo, has ascended to the seventh heaven." If it has failed, they say, è andato all' abbisso del inferno, "it has sunk to the abyss of hell." The severest critics are the Abbés, who sit in the first row of the pit, each armed with a lighted wax taper in one hand, and a book of the opera in the other; and should any poor devil of a singer miss a word, they call out bravo, bestia,-"bravo, you beast!" It is customary for the composer of an opera to preside at the piano forte the first three nights of its performance, and a precious time he has of it in Rome. Should any passage in the music strike the audience as similar to one of another composer, they cry, Bravo, il ladro,—" bravo, you thief;" or "bravo, Paesiello! bravo, Sacchini!" if they suppose the passage stolen from them, "the curse of God light on him who first put a pen into your hand to write music!" This I heard said, in the Teatro Aliberti, to the celebrated composer Gazzaniga, who was obliged to sit patiently at the piano forte to hear the flattering commendation. Cimarosa, who was their idol as a composer, was once so unfortunate as to make use of a movement in a comic opera, at the Teatro della Valle, which reminded them of one of his own, in an opera composed by him for the preceding carnival. An Abbé started up, and said, "Bravo, Cimarosa! you are welcome from Naples; by your music of to-night, it is clear you have neither left your trunk behind you, nor your old music; you are an excellent cook in hashing up old dishes!" Poggi, the most celebrated buffo singer of his day, always dreaded appearing before those stonyhearted critics; however, tempted by a large sum, he accepted an engagement at the Teatro della Valle. He arrived in Rome some weeks previous to his engagement, hoping to make friends, and form a party in his favor; he procured introductions to the most severe and scurrilous, and thinking to find the way to their hearts through their mouths, gave them splendid dinners daily. One of them, an Abbé, he selected from the rest, as his bosom friend and confidante; he fed, clothed, and supplied him with money; he confided to him his terrors at appearing before an audience so fastidious as the Romans. The Abbé assured him, that he had nothing to fear, as his opinion was looked up to by the whole bench of critics; and when he approved, none dare dissent. - The awful night for poor Poggi at length arrived; his fidus Achates took his usual seat, in his little locked-up chair in the pit. It was agreed between them, that he was to convey to Poggi, by signs, the feeling of the audience towards him; if they approved, the Abbé was to nod his head; if the contrary, to shake it. When Poggi had sung his first song, the Abbé nodded, and cried, Bravo! bravissimo!" but in the second act, Poggi became hoarse, and imperfect; the audience gave a gentle hiss, which disconcerted the affrighted singer, and made him worse: on this, his friend became outrageous, and standing up on his chair, after putting out his wax-light, and closing his book, he looked Poggi in the face, and exclaimed, "Signor Poggi, I am the mouth of truth, and thus declare, that you are decidedly the worst singer that ever appeared in Rome! I also declare, that you ought to be hooted off the stage for your impudence, in imposing on my simple and credulous good nature as you have done." This produced roars of laughter, and poor Poggi retired, never to appear again, without even exclaiming, Et tu Brute, which he might most appropriately have applied to his guardian crony. A circumstance something like this took place at the Teatro Argentina. A tenor singer of the name of Gabrielli, brother of the great female singer of that name, was engaged there. Before he had got through five bars of his first song, the critics began to hiss and hoot, (and very deservedly so, for he was execrable), saying, "Get away, you cursed raven !” "Get off, you Goat!" On which he came forward and addressed the audience very mildly, "You fancy you are mortifying me, by hooting me; you are grossly deceived; on the contrary, I applaud your judgment, for I solemnly declare to you, that I never appeared on any stage without receiving the same treatment, and sometimes much worse!" This appeal, though it produced a momentary laugh, could not procure a second appearance for the poor fellow. [A Sketch from the French by W. GRILLIERS.] Strauss and his Sophie Waltz. And it JOHN STRAUSS may indeed merit, the epithet of the modern Orpheus, for his tender, moving, and soul-stirring music cannot fail to conquer the most inveterate enemy of Terpischore. Ye sons and daughters of revelry, who have oft listened to his ever-gushing, inexhaustible fount of melody, cannot ye say with me that the magic sounds might indeed soothe hearts, still sighs, dry tears, tame wild beasts, and even move the stones themselves? Ye must have observed the full and syren-like beauty and poetry of his melody, in one phrase of which may be found more music real music, than in many a heavy score. is not the melody alone which seizes with magical influence on the brain, and finds its way into every nook and corner of our being, but the rhythm is irresistible. His violin is the talisman by which he brings forth from the inward recess of the human soul the brightest seraphic joy, the deepest, direful woe, and then mingles them with Jove-like hand. The bow with which he draws these various colored tones from his instrument is the magic wand, which touching the desponding and grief-torn soul with a precious and healing balm of joy, lends her wings to rise phoenix-like high, high into the heaven of peace. There are numerous waltz compositions as rich in melody, but few are as rich in that melting rhythm which characterizes the music of Strauss. By turns skipping, humming, waltzing, gliding and dancing, so inviting, so irresistible that no one- withal a dancer-can withstand their witching and magical influence. He is the idol of women. In every house, on every piano in Vienna, lie Strauss' waltzes. He has written over two hundred, all are favorites, all are sung, and trilled, and played throughout Europe. Plebeian and aristocrat hum and pipe them, orchestra and barrel-organ play them. We hear them in the street, at the ball, in the garden, and at the theatre. The dancing Viennese carry him in triumph on their shoulders, and shout "Strauss for ever," the rest of Europe re-echoes the sound and cries" Strauss for ever." Strauss, the waltz-hero, loved the daughter of a count. Sophie was her name. Her eye as blue as Italy's heaven, and softer than the sweet light of the evening star. Grace and beauty shone forth in every motion, and sweet melody in every tone. He would have given worlds to have won but one glance of love from this beautiful being, but she was cold and stern. Madness indeed it was for a poor wandering musician, with nothing but his violin, to dare to love the high-born Sophie, who had as many noble ancestors as he had waltzes. "Rash impertinence," said Sophie; and when he came to give her brother a lesson she scarcely deigned to give him a look. Shortly afterwards Sophie became the betrothed of the Count Robert, Lord Chamberlain, who also could boast as many proud ancestors as the fair Sophie, but beyond these and his titles he had nothing else. One day Strauss chanced to be alone with Sophie; he sank upon his knees before her, and with the burning words of the maddening passion, declared his love, and besought her to give him but one word or look ere he was driven to despair. But no tears or protestations could move her, she was as cold and unfeeling as the inanimate marble. "I am the affianced bride of Count Robert," she said, haughtily, "and if it were otherwise, think you I would become the wife of a poor musician?" She turned scornfully away and left him alone in his grief and despair. The repentance which soon awoke in the heart of Sophie came too late. The bridegroom and her father hastened the nuptial day—in eight days she would become the wife of Count Robert. The ceremony was to be performed in the grand saloon of the city, and the Count called on Strauss to request him to lead the orchestra on the occasion, and to honor his bride with the composition of a new waltz. 66 Strauss, the most miserable man in God's universe, promised him both. He wishes to wound me yet more deeply," said the unhappy man to himself, "but I pardon him, and my prayer to heaven is that she may be happy, and that she never repent her choice." But his waltz! a thought strikes him, it shall be the interpreter of his passion and his grief to Sophie, it should challenge her pity, if not her love. Oh! what glorious power, to be able to speak, to reproach, to plead; and through his divine art. To work! to work! When all the great city slept, Strauss took his violin, opened his window, gazed out into the cold night, and improvised and moaned forth his sad tale of woe to the sweet stars above, who looked kindly down on the desolate and heartstricken. The day of the wedding came at last. The fearful agony of love had given him a waltz every measure of which spoke a longing sorrow and despairing woe. The hall glistened and shone with bright jewels and brighter eyes, but Sophie was more gloriously beautiful than them all. The richest gems lent their beauty and their lustre; the pure myrtle wreath bloomed in her golden hair, and the rare and costly veil shaded her beautiful features from the full gaze of the admiring crowd. Strauss, a haggard, emaciated man, with brilliant and piercing black eyes, sharp and strongly marked features, dressed from head to foot in black, as though he had assumed this mourning livery for the bride now dead to him, stood sad and silent in the gallery above, directing the movements of the orchestra. Sophie danced now with one, now with another of the wedding guests, and as often as she paused after the giddy whirl of the dance, she turned her eyes towards the pale and grief-stricken Strauss, in his robes of sorrow and mourning, and each time met his piercing look of despairing love. It was more than pity she felt, it was remorse, it was a kindled love. A terrible pain awoke in her heart, like the swelling of a stream, growing ever deeper and wider in its onward course, which threatened to overwhelm and destroy her. How gladly would she have wept, but she dared not. It sounded twelve; Strauss gave the signal for the performance of his new waltz. The gay dancers stood up, Sophie on the arm of the happy bridegroom. All stand spell-bound with the magic witchery of those magic sounds. They forget to dance, they gaze in wonder up at the pale man in black, whose grief-torn soul breathes out its woe through his beloved instrument. His bow moved with his heart, his spirit moves in unison. The bridegroom leads off the dance, and Strauss, with fascinated, tearful eyes, and torn heart, follows the flying pair in their giddy whirl. They dance, and dance, and dance, and still do not cease. Strauss plays, and plays, and no stop to his wonderful waltz, which so fearfully affects both him and them. They still dance, and dance; he plays, and plays; as sudden as the lightning's flash the E of his violin snaps, and at the same moment the beautiful Sophie falls dead upon the floor. Violin and bow fall from his trembling hands, and with a cry of horror, he shrieks" Sophie!" and falls fainting on the ground. Since Sophie's death, the waltz is called by her name. Strauss loved her to the last moment of his existence. He, too, is now dead, but his charming Sophie waltz still lives. - London Musical World. Dwight's Journal of Music. BOSTON, AUGUST 21, 1852. BELLINI. On our first page is a pleasant article, (perhaps we may say reminiscence of early enthusiasm,) about this graceful and pathetic composer, kindly furnished us in anticipation of his forthcoming volume by our friend Tuckerman. We cannot agree with him, however, that Bellini was the most beautiful composer of our times, or that Norma, if throughout beautiful, is ever sublime. Indeed we have no memory of Bellini which suggests that term. His sweetly sad and tender strains have exercised a rare fascination upon all musically or poetically susceptible natures at some time, generally the rosecolored time of life. They are always graceful, always pathetic; but the almost uniform experience with regard to this music is that it is not bracing, strong, invigorating; that one wearies of the play upon the same ceaseless monochord of tender passion; and that the Bellini melody becomes at last, wherever met in any of his operas, only so much more variation of the old strain easily recognizable. It is only when we do not know Beethoven, or Weber, or Mendelssohn, or Mozart, that Bellini so takes possession of us as to fill our whole musical horizon. Coming after Rossini's sparkling bravura, he was welcome as one who more touched the heart. But then mere sentiment at last grows weak and sickly, and the explorer in the magic world of music is apt to come round again to Rossini to enjoy the vastly greater wealth and variety of actual invention, and to find in him the genius and the spring of the whole modern Italian lyric school. And what shall he say, when he comes to explore among the Germans! Still the life and music of Bellini are a beautiful, poetic whole; and it is often pleasant, and indeed wholesome, to go back to that youthful glow of sentiment, in which he has been such a near friend and interpreter to so many. But we have already given our impression of Bellini, somewhat fully, as contrasted with that of several other great composers, in a former number. |