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Journal

VOL. I.

of Music,

A Paper of Art and Literature.

BOSTON, SATURDAY, APRIL 24, 1852.

Dwight's Journal of Music, |

PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY,

21 SCHOOL STREET, BOSTON.

TWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM.

For Rates of Advertising, see last page.

Its contents will relate mainly to the art of MUSIC, but with occasional glances at the whole world of Art and of polite Literature, indeed at every thing pertaining to the cultivation of the Beautiful; including from time to time:

1. Critical reviews of Concerts, Oratorios, Operas; with timely analyses of the notable works performed, accounts of their composers,

&c.

2. Notices of new music published at home and abroad.

3. A summary of the signifant Musical News from all parts, gathered from English, German, French, as well as American papers.

4. Correspondence from musical persons and places.

5. Essays on musical styles, schools, periods, authors, compositions, instruments, theories; on musical education; on Music in its moral, social, and religious bearings; on Music in the Church, the Concert-room, the Theatre, the Chamber, and the Street; &c.

6. Translations from the best German and French writers upon Music and Art.

7. Occasional notices of Sculpture, Painting, Architecture, Poetry, æsthetic Books, the Drama,

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[Translated by the Editor.]

FREDERIC CHOPIN.

BY FRANZ LISZT.

I.

Painfully as his loss will be lamented by all artists and by all, who knew him, still perhaps it may be permitted to doubt whether the moment has yet arrived, when CHOPIN can be estimated at his real worth and take the high place, which in all probability the Future will assign him.

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If it has many times been proved, that "a prophet has no honor in his own country, does not the experience also hold good, that the prophets, that is, the men of the Future, the men, who have a presentiment of coming time and bring it nearer to us in the corks, will not be recognized as prophets by their own age? And scarcely dare we maintain, that it could be otherwise. The younger generations of artists may fortify themselves as they will against the slowly appreciating ones, whose uniform custom it is to bury the living with the dead: in Music and in all other Art it is frequently reserved to time alone, to bring the full beauty and merit of their works to light.

The various forms of Art are properly but magic spells, for calling out emotions, feelings, passions; and Genius shows itself in the creation of new forms, which often chime with only such emotions as never yet have been awakened in the sphere of those spell-bound. Can we then indulge the hope, in Arts where the feeling is connected with the exciting cause without any mediation of thoughts or reflection, that the mere introduction of new and unwonted forms and measures shall be no hindrance to the immediate understanding of a work? The surprise, nay even the fatigue, accompanying strange impressions makes them sound to the great multitude like a language, which it does not understand and which for that reason at first seems to it somewhat barbarous. Many shrink in terror from the mere pains it will cost to accustom the car to it, and then they doggedly refuse it all more serious study. Commonly it is the most lively and most youthful organizations, those least entangled in the web of custom, (which, even where it is invincible, is worthy of respect), that take to the new idiom, first out of curiosity and then with passion. Through these it penetrates even into the most intractable regions of the public; through these,

NO. 3.

at last, the public seizes the sense, the signification, the structure of the music, and does justice to its peculiarities or to its richness. Accordingly, those composers, who are not tied to traditional methods, need more than other artists the aid of time. They cannot hope that death will enhance the value of their works for the time being, as is sometimes the case with pictures; and no one of them can in behalf of his scores revive the artifice of that Dutch painter, who told his wife to spread a report of his death, to raise the price on what had been accumulating in his studio.

Great as is the popularity acquired by a portion of the compositions of the man, whose vital energy corporeal sufferings had broken down a long time before his death, there is still reason to suspect, that posterity will measure his labors by a more serious standard thau the sent. Future historians of music will give full credit to one, who has distinguished himself by so strange a genius for melody, by such felicitous and remarkable enlargements of the web of harmony; and they will justly prize his conquests above many a work laid out upon a vaster scale, and played again and again by an entire orchestra, or sung again and again by whole troupes of prime donne.

By confining himself exclusively to the Piano Forte, CHOPIN has proved himself, in our opinion, to possess one of the most essential properties of a writer or a composer: namely, a correct appreciation of the form, in which his mission was to be achieved, and his designs executed. And yet this fact, which we impute to him as a high merit, has harmed his reputation. Another person, in possession of such fine melodic and harmonic creative power, would hardly have withstood the temptations offered by the song of strings beneath the bow, by the languishing of the flute, by the crackle of the trumpet, which we still persist in regarding as the peculiar messenger of the old heathen goddess, for whose passing favor we are suitors. What a mature conviction it required in him, thus to limit himself to a seemingly barren domain, and out of its soil entice flowers, which seemed as if they must renounce all hope of thriving there! What a depth of insight is revealed in this exclusive choice of the means of plucking the various effects of instruments out of their usual sphere, where the resounding yeasty waves break on the shore, and confining them within a narrower, but more ideal circle! What a confident presentiment of the future power of his in

strument in this self-sacrificing rejection of an empiricism so all-pervading, that another would probably have esteemed it contrary to nature, to withdraw such great thoughts from their usual interpreters! How admirable this well-considered feeling of the Beautiful for its own sake! On the one hand, he restrains his talent from the common tendency to distribute every shred of melody over a hundred music-desks; and on the other, he enriches the auxiliary sources of the Art, in teaching us how to concentrate them upon a given space.

Far from seeking his renown in the noise of the orchestra, CHOPIN contented himself with seeing his thoughts fully quickened into life upon the key-board of the piano. He always reached his end, which was no other than to secure to the musical essence of his idea the full expression of its power; but he despised the mere effect of masses and the coarse pencil of the scenepainter. As yet the value of the sketches from his fine pen has not been considered with sufficient seriousness or due attention; for people are accustomed, even in this day, to think those composers only worthy of a great name, who have left behind them at least half a dozen operas, as many oratorios and several symphonies; of each musician they demand all, and if possible, a little more. Whether justly, is quite problematical. Far be it from us to call in question the more dearly earned fame and the actual superiority of those epic bards, who have unfolded their resplendent creations upon the broadest field; we could only wish, that in musical works the same standard of material proportions might prevail as in the other Fine Arts; for instance, in Painting, where a canvass of twenty square ells, as the Vision of Ezekiel, or the Churchyard by Ruysdael, is reckoned among masterpieces of as high a rank, or higher, than many a picture of far greater compass, even were it by a Rubens or a Tintoretto. Is Beranger any the less a poet, because he has confined his thoughts within the narrow limits of the People's Song? Does not Petrarca owe his triumph to his Sonnets, while what one of his admirers knows his poem upon Africa? We do not doubt the gradual disappearance of the prejudices, which dispute the rank of an artist, who should write nothing but Sonatas, like those of FRANZ SCHUBERT, compared with many another, who has scored the common-place melodies of many operas, which we care not to, mention. Even in Music we shall gradually learn, in the various kinds of composition, to take account first of all of the eloquence and talent, with which the ideas and feelings are expressed, without regard to the space and means, by which it is accomplished.

Now it is impossible to subject Chopin's labors to an intelligent analysis, without finding in them. beauties of the first magnitude, an expression perfectly new, and a harmonic texture as original as it is complete. With him the boldness always justifies itself; the richness, even to exuberance, does not exclude clearness; the strangeness does not degenerate into baroque affectation. The embellishment begets no blur; the luxury of ornaments does not smother the beauty of the main lines. His best works are rich in combinations, which may be said to make epochs in the treatment of musical style. Audacious, shining, seductive, they clothe their profundity with so much grace, their art with so much charm, that

one has difficulty to disentwine himself from their transporting, magic clasp, so as to judge them in cold blood from the stand-point of their theoretic worth. This worth has been already felt; but it will be more and more appreciated, when the time shall come for an exact examination of the services, that have been rendered to the art of Music in the period in which CHOPIN lived.

To him we owe that expansion of the Chord, both when struck full, and when broken into arpeggio and through several octaves; those chromatic and enharmonic windings, of which his Etudes contain such astonishing examples; those minute groups of interpolated notes, which fall down like a colored dew upon the melodic figure, and for which, until he came, only the fioriture of the older Italian song school had been taken for a model. While he enlarged the boundaries, within which they had hitherto kept, he lent to this kind of ornament that unexpectedness and that multiformity, which lay beyond the compass of the human voice, heretofore always slavishly copied in the so-called embellishments for the piano, that had become so stereotyped and monotonous. He invented those wonderful harmonic progressions, which lent a serious character even to those pages, which with their light material could scarcely lay claim to such meaning. But what of the material (the subject matter)? The Idea, which he charms out of it, the inspiration which he breathes into it, exalts, ennobles, magnifies it. What melancholy there is, what subtlety, what fine perception, and above all, what ART in those masterpieces of Lafontaine, whose matter is so common-place, and whose title so modest! Etudes and Preludes are titles quite as modest; nevertheless the musical pieces of CHOPIN, which bear them, remain forever perfect types of a species, which he has created, and which, like all his works, sprang from the character of his poetic genius.

Almost the earliest of his works, they bear the stamp of a young creative power, which in some of his following productions, that are more labored, more filed, more learnedly written, gradually disappears, to become lost entirely in his latest; for these are the offspring of a morbid sentimentality, which might be called the painful fruit of an exhausted vital energy.

[To be continued.]

BUGLE SONG.

BY ALFRED TENNYSON.

The splendor falls on castle walls

And snowy summits old in story; The long light shakes across the lakes,

And the wild cataract leaps in glory:

Blow! bugle, blow! set the wild echoes flyingBlow, bugle! answer, echoes! dying, dying, dying!

Oh hark! oh hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! Oh! sweet and far, from cliff and scar, The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow! let us hear the purple glens replying — Blow, bugle! answer, echoes! dying, dying, dying!

Oh love, they die in yon rich sky!

They faint on hill, on field, on river; Our echoes roll from soul to soul,

And grow for ever, and for ever! Blow, bugle, blow! set the wild echoes flying, And answer, echoes, answer! dying, dying, dying!

CLASSIC AND OPERATIC MUSIC,

OR

The Contrapuntists and the Melodists.

[Concluded from the last number.]

The assertion: Every age has its joys, applies also to music. In it we recognize a somewhat melancholy truth, which however but few friends of music willingly admit, who all their days keep sounding the praises of their beloved art. But the passion for music, if it be carried to an extreme degree, wears out the sense and the heart, as well as any other passion; it has, like every other, its excesses and its dangers. The liveliness of musical impressions degenerates, with certain temperaments, into an undue vehemence, and the habit of yielding thereto can in the long run induce nothing but a disturbance of the moral balance and a loss of the capacity of enjoyment. This is especially the case with dramatic and concert music, which is more passionate and sensuous than any other. But when one finally has had this sad experience in himself; when Melody, with the whole train of its allurements no longer says to us what it once said, then it often happens, that the taste changes with age; an age, however, which cannot always be measured by the number of years. Fortunately, music contains also in itself the antidote against the evil it has caused. Without loving it any the less, one can love it differently; the pleasure can regain in interest what it has lost in voluptuous fire; and other works invite us then to more tranquil emotions, since they attach the music to the pleasures of the mind, and at least keep alive in it always the warmth, which the language of feeling must have and the heart must enjoy, without unnerving it. These pleasures in their nature are the most enduring; and the works, to which we owe them, are not subject to the mournful changes of fashion, which to-day despises what it yesterday adored. The Dilettante has become a Connoisseur.

The long life ascribed to fugues lies not, as Forkel assures us, in the æsthetic superiority of that species. There can, I repeat it, be no question of absolute pre-eminence between the two parts of musical art, each of which contains but half of its resources in itself, and has not the power to make itself complete. This long duration probably lies in the structure and the technical laws of the Fugue. The changeable and perishable element, Melody, in it is reduced to its lowest value. It is nothing but a subject, a theme, a musical proposition, commonly limited to three or four bars. Moreover the invention of a subject is no arbitrary process, for you must find one suited to the contrapuntal analysis, to which it is to be subjected. It is never clothed according to the old or the new fashion, precisely for the reason, that makes it impossible for it to follow either. Fashion crumbles before it, as a whim gives way before necessity. And if mannerism cannot insinuate itself into the melodic design of the subject, how much more impotent it must be against the whole work! The combinations, the imitations, the canonical plays, the many crossing outlines, of which the fugue consists, gives a rounded and compact mass, which resists the strokes of Time, as in a beleaguered city the churches built of hewn stones resist the bombs, which shatter the less solid edifices.

And not only do works of the fugued style

find the guaranties of a long existence in the natural strength of their putting together; for another reason they escape a misfortune, which is perhaps the greatest next to that of being executed in the judicial sense of the word. These works are never disgraced by coming into fashion; they are not abused and worn out by having to be heard continually and without any mercy in theatre and concert and saloons, where there happens to be a piano, in promenades and grand parades. Who has not a thousand times cursed such fashionable arias, which he has met day and night under all possible forms, even where he was expecting a more serious music?

At the time when counterpoint and melody were in a state of separation, the musicians, that is to say the contrapuntists and the melodists, must have discerned very different and yet perfectly compensatory fates in the type of the two respective styles. The melodists won glory in their nation and in all Europe, the applause of the multitude, the flatteries of fashion, of which they were at once the priests, the idols and the victims; the laurel wreath, that withered as soon as it was placed upon the head of the victor; gold, that went as rapidly as it was easily earned; popularity with all its advantages and burdens. The contrapuntists reaped the quiet marks of honor, by which the toils of scholars are remunerated, and which are limited to their own circle. A place as chapel-master in a church, or organist, if fortune was particularly well disposed to one; moderate income, assiduous labors, a few scholars for interested admirers, colleagues difficult to satisfy for judges, and a silent church public for their incitement. The world scarcely knew them. But these men could write freely, as God and their own hearts prompted, as MoZART always had so longed to do; they had the consciousness of their merit and the presentiment of a remote but an enduring glory, and they envied not their fortunate and renowned rivals, the melodists. They were free! This explains all, as well their faith in the future, as the stoicism which they opposed to the indifference of their contemporaries. The best part of their fortune consisted of a draft upon posterity, payable when they themselves should no more need it. So lived, both inwardly and outwardly, those philosophical musicians, of whom JOHN SEBASTIAN BACH will be the prototype for all times.

For Dwight's Journal of Music.

The Hungarian Orchestra.

The last accounts from London speak of a band under the above name, which is now successfully giving concerts in that city. As they will probably visit our country before a great while such at least we understood to be their intention, a year since - and as they are really well worth hearing, it strikes us that a paragraph or two on them will not be misplaced.

The company is small, consisting of but fifteen performers, and the members are mostly, if not entirely, Gipsies, though called Hungarians. The leader's name is Kalozdy, and the company is sometimes called by his name, and sometimes the Locz Orchestra, from the place whence it came. Most of them know nothing of music, farther than to play on their instruments the music taught them by the leader - the violoncellist and one of the clarinetists cannot read a note.

Most of the music they play is national, such as the Rakoczy March, overture to a Hungarian Opera, pieces by Kalozdy, the leader, &c.; though in Berlin they played, in addition to these, Rossini's "Tell" overture, Von Flotow's overture to Martha," and extracts from Ernani and Nebuchadonozer by Verdi, and from Ilka by Doppler. Their true sphere is their own music, which is elegiac and plaintive, constantly changing from

66

major to minor, from piano to forte, &c., and full of such characteristic effects, as much belonging to Hungarian music, as the omission of the Seventh does to the real old Scotch songs.

The Orchestra is a perfect model of discipline; and in their accellerandos, retardandos, &c., and in all dynamic changes, every man accelerates, retards, increases or diminishes, so perfectly with all the rest, that it seems really as if they all felt the thoughts and emotions of Kalozdy. This is owing of course partly to their seven years practice together, and partly we think to the fact that so many of them are taught their parts note by note by their leader, who of course will give to each man the same expression. The composition of the Orchestra, or rather the selection of the instruments, is curious.

Five violins play the leading parts and melodies; one viola, one violoncello, and one contra bass furnish the middle parts and bass. These are all the stringed instruments. Two clarinet players comprise the whole band of wood instruments. They use clarinets in A, B, D, and C, and for piccolo parts one in E b. This is not so good as the piccolo would be, as the clarinet can only be played forte, and has a somewhat screechy effect. The other instruments are all metallic, consisting of two keyed bugles (!) with very wide bells. The first bugle is in C, the second in F, and both have a range of three octaves. In Berlin, one of the feats of the bugler was to play a most difficult cadence with all sorts of ornaments in vocal style, and this he did most perfectly. Two horns in F and a bombardon (?) fill up the quintet of brass instruments. Their playing won the highest admiration in Germany, and a letter from Liszt praises them almost extravagantly. Their long practice enables them to learn a piece of some length in one hour! and a year ago they had already “in the head,” as the Germans express it, seventy different pieces! They are truly masters of their instruments, and should they come over here, they would afford a new opportunity for us to cultivate our tastes, at least in execution, and for the study of national music. They dress in a rich national costume, which adds not a little to the effect of their appearance on the stage or in the concert room.

A. W. T.

A BEAUTIFUL COMPLIMENT. One of the most beautiful compliments we ever read came before our eyes this week. It may be old to many, but it will bear repetition: Reynolds, the celebrated artist, painted a portrait of Mrs. Billington, the vocalist, representing her as St. Cecilia-the eyes turned towards heaven, listening to a choir of angels, faintly introduced on the upper part of the painting. Haydn, the composer, was present just as Sir Joshua was giving it the finishing touch, and his opinion of its merits was asked by Mrs. Billington. "It resembles you," said Haydn, "but it has one great fault." "And what is it?" asked Mrs. Billington with inquietude, fearful that the artist might take offence. "The painter," continued Haydn, "has represented you listening to the songs of the angels; he should have painted the angels listening to your enchanting notes." Flattered by such compliment, the beautiful Billington threw her arms round Haydn's neck and kissed him.

An interesting display of Tableaux vivants recently took place at Stuttgart, under the auspices of the Musicians and Painters. Loewe composed a prelude, and between the pictures, music of Mozart, Beethoven and Weber was performed under the direction of the veteran Lindpaintner. The series proceeded historically, representing some of the most famous pictures of the great artists.

Correspondence.

[Letter from Germany.]

The Conservatory of Music.

LEIPSIC, March 22, 1852. Music has made so much progress within the last few years, that the importance of a more extensive and thorough course of education is begin

ning to be felt; and this is especially the case with those who have made the greatest advancement. It has not been generally known in our country, that there is enough in music to occupy years of close application. The older singing books, published some fifty or eighty years ago, contained a few pages of "Rules," giving some directions as to finding the "mi," and describing the different kinds of time; and a man who could so explain these that no one could possibly understand him, was thought to be musically learned. Many a time have I heard the exclamation: "What, devote his whole time to music!" as if it was quite impossible that one could find anything to study in it for more than an evening or two in a week, for two or three months. Even now there are but very few who have any just conception of the previous preparation, time and labor necessary to thorough knowledge in the science, or skill in the art. The subject is better understood this side the Atlantic, and especially in Germany, where for many years music schools similar to our law, medical and theological schools, have been established. It is exceedingly difficult, nay, quite impossible, to obtain a thorough musical education at present in America; for, although we have good musicians, they are scattered about through the different cities, and one cannot avail himself of their instructions but at great inconvenience and expense; and it is found to be a quicker and a cheaper way to come to Europe, if one is determined to make himself in good earnest a musical student.

The inquiry has often been made: What are the musical conservatories of Europe? what are their advantages? and how may one avail himself of their privileges? With the design of answering, in part, these questions, the following account of the Conservatory here has been prepared. It has been written by a young gentleman, a Bostonian, a graduate of Harvard University, now a musical student and member of the Conservatory - Mr. J. P. When young Americans, having good natural talent, favorable early musical associations, and a sufficient preparatory education, shall devote themselves like Mr. P. to the thorough study of musical science and art, we may look for the rapid progress and success of music in our land, and may hope to realize some of the advantages for which it was designed.

"THIS INSTITUTION was founded in 1843, under the patronage of the King of Saxony, and with the valuable co-operation of the Capelmeister, Dr. FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY. Its reputation spread so rapidly, both in and around Germany, that at the close of the first half-year it numbered forty-four pupils, thirty-three male and eleven female. At the commencement of the second term, the number had increased to sixty. These pupils are attracted thither not only from all parts of Germany, but from Belgium, Holland, Denmark, Norway, Russia, England and America.

"An institution like this, whose object is to give the student a thorough foundation in all branches, the knowledge of which is indispensable

to every good musician, and to enable him to perfect himself theoretically as well as practically, has this advantage over private instruction - that by the participation of several scholars in the same immediate object of study, it awakens and keeps alive in them a true musical feeling, stimulates them to emulation and hence to industry, and preserves them from partiality or one-sidedness in the formation of their tastes, a fault against which every artist should be particularly cautious, during the progress of his studies. It has also the advantage of cheapness. Each student pays about $60 a year, for which he receives instruction in all branches. This moderate sum, as one can readily see, must bear a very small proportion to the expense of private instruction.

"The theoretical part of the education consists of a complete course of three years. The pupils are divided into six classes, and a new term commences every half-year; though if one is sufficiently prepared, he can enter any of the advanced classes at the time of his admission into the Conservatory. The first year is devoted to simple Harmony; the second to Harmony and Simple Counterpoint; and the third to Harmony, Double Counterpoint and Fugue. The study of Composition and Musical Form constitutes a separate branch, being under the charge of a different instructor. It comprises all the different forms of vocal and instrumental composition, with the analysis of classical works. There are also exercises in playing from score and the art of conducting an Orchestra. The Italian language is also taught to those who devote themselves principally to singing. Lectures are given twice a week by an eminent Professor on the History and Estheticks of Music, and the science of Acoustics with experiments. So much for the theoretical

course.

"In the practical branch also, instruction is given in classes. No limited course can be prescribed, however, as everything here depends on the talent and industry of the scholar. The vocal department is patronized mainly by females, and for those who pursue the study, exercises in Declamation are given, to improve their pronunciation, and fit them for the stage. The instruments that are made the principal objects of study are of course Piano and Violin, and each student is obliged unconditionally to devote himself to one or the other of these two. The violinists are

exercised in Solo, Quartet and Orchestra playing. The organ is unfortunately not much attended to. Those, who desire to learn the common wind instruments, can do so by paying an extra fee, though it does not form part of the regular course. An opportunity is afforded to those who particularly excel on any instrument to appear at some public performance, either in orchestra, chorus, or solo.

"Besides the regular exercises, the pupils meet together one evening in the week, and those who have studied any work to the satisfaction of the teacher during the past week, perform it for the benefit of the whole assembly. These soirées are attended by the friends and families of the Professors, and frequently by distinguished artists who are visiting the city. As for instance, the past fortnight the students have been inspired by the presence of the first of living German composers, Dr. ROBERT SCHUMANN. He has twice honored these assemblies with his presence, and several of his compositions were performed in his hearing, at which he evinced great satisfaction. His wife also accompanied him, and played several pieces. This lady (formerly CLARA WIECK) ranks among the first pianists of the day, and certainly stands at the head of those of her sex.

"Two examinations are held every year, one a private one, at which the pupils are classified according to the progress they have made, -- and one, a public exhibition or concert, at which the more advanced only are allowed to appear, either as composers or performers. The privilege of attending the rehearsals of the series of concerts that is given every winter in the 'Gewandhaus,' as well as of most others, is also afforded to the pupils.

"The Government of the institution is entrusted to five gentlemen, who are professed admirers of

the art, and who discharge their office without compensation. The discipline is by no means more strict than every scholar who zealously engages in the study of music, would willingly submit to. The regulations are very simple, viz., that the scholars shall attend regularly the exercises, appear at no public performance without special leave, and in general conduct themselves orderly and submit to the direction of the Government of the Institution. Each pupil on leaving the Conservatory, receives a testimonial or degree, stating his time of study and his comparative proficiency in the art.

"As was said above, the expense is comparatively trifling, and within the means of almost every aspirant for musical knowledge. A fund has been given by the King of Saxony, by which a limited number, whose means will not otherwise allow it, can be educated free of expense.

"The professors of the Institution are such as enjoy a universal reputation, and are many of them of Mendelssohn's own selection and appointAmong them are MOSCHELES, Instructor of the Piano, DAVID of the Violin, and HAUPTMANN of Harmony.

ment.

"Such are the main features and advantages of this system of musical instruction. It were to be wished most heartily by all lovers of music, that such an Institution could be founded in every large city of our own country. The rapidly growing taste of our good people seems to demand some such effort, and from present appearances we may certainly encourage the hope. Objections have been made to the system of instruction in classes, but these are equally applicable to other studies as well as music. To be sure, where a pupil in a private lesson receives the undivided attention of his instructor for the space of an hour, in the class he receives individually only a fraction of the same. But this comparatively trifling evil is more than counterbalanced by the advantages, as we have above hinted. The pupil becomes acquainted with many different styles, sees the beauties and the faults of each, and is imperceptibly led in this way to the formation of his own. Again, by being constantly compelled to perform before others, he cannot fail to acquire a degree of confidence, whch is beneficial and necessary to every public performer. How often do we see an instance of a private pupil, when summoned unexpectedly to an exhibition of himself, completely thrown off his guard by the presence of an assembled company, and so far from doing himself justice, making a total failure. If time admitted, we might enumerate many other advantages, to the truth of which we can testify from personal experience. As it is, for the present, our word must be taken for it, and we can only conclude with the hope, that the little insight we may have given into the system and zeal with which exertions are made in Europe in the cause of this absorbing study, may be of some slight assistance in stimulating our musical countrymen to similar endeavors."

The foregoing will be read with interest, especially by such young men as are thinking of fitting themselves for the musical profession. The time is past when one can expect to succeed well, who takes up music and pursues it professionally without a suitable previous preparation. It is not necessary, indeed, that all teachers should be learned musicians; many excellent teachers in different musical departments there may be, who have made but little progress in musical science; but still we need such as shall be able to pursue musical investigations, and give tone to the general character of American music. Such we

shall have when men like Willis, Parker, and others whom we might mention, devote themselves to the work.

In addition to what Mr. P. has said, we will remark in relation to expense, that it will cost a man about as much to live in Leipsic a year as it will to live in Boston or New York a year. One may, perhaps, live somewhat cheaper here, but

this is not realized often. And the young men who come here generally find the expenses considerably more than they had been led to expect. Some live on four hundred dollars, more expend six hundred, and it is not safe for one, who has been accustomed to city life in the United States and who intends to attend the concerts, (which is quite necessary), to make his calculations to get along with less than about eight hundred dollars per annum; and then he must not be disappointed if he finds himself minus say two hundred dollars at the end of the year. But if a man has tried it and finds that he can live on five hundred dollars per annum in New York; then he may safely conclude that the same sum will answer his purposes in Leipsic, or other German cities.

In addition to the names of Professors given by Mr. P. we will add the following, all of which are to a greater or less extent connected with the Conservatory; RICHTER, RIETZ, PAPPERITZ, PLAIDY, WENZEL, BECKER, DREYSCHOCK, (violinist,) HERRMANN, and KLengel.

Success to the young men of America, who, having the necessary talent, shall devote themselves to the study and advancement of musical science and art in the land! By-and-by, when we shall have some MARY LYON to devote herself to the work, we shall have a Conservatory, with the buildings all erected and paid for, like the Mount Holyoke School in Massachusetts.

L. M.

Dwight's Journal of Music.

BOSTON, APRIL 24, 1852.

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The Old Church Modes or There has been manifested of late more or less of a tendency, in the sphere of Sacred Music, to go back for models even to times earlier than Art itself. The severity, solemnity and grand simplicity of the old ecclesiastical chants has won many to the belief, that here was the only sacred music; that in those old traditional tunes, plain, yet inimitable, the prayers and pious aspirations of Christendom once for all were inspired with a form of utterance, to be forevermore repeated in all public worship. It is the same sort of sentiment, which led Cornelius, and other painters of his school, to try to shut out the daylight of the present, and paint by the dim, consecrated halo of a Past, when faith was more in earnest than it now seems; and Schlegel to do the same thing in literature. Elegant treatises and collections are multiplied in England, setting forth the beauties of the Church Modes in Music; and it is even intimated by the zealous ones in this direction, that the richer modern music, the Masses of Haydn and Mozart and Cherubini, the Oratorios of Handel, &c., are a degenerate, worldly music, compared with these inspired, and as it were, ordained forms of solemn song.

How reasonable this is, may appear from a few considerations, which we only briefly hint.

Music has passed through three states: the state of nature; the state of prescription, or ordinance; and the state of Free ART. Which is the highest? Which should afford most full and perfect utterance to man's highest, holiest aspirations, in a word to the Unitary, the Religious sentiment?

All histories of Music open with quotations

BOSTON, APRIL

from the bibles and traditions of the nations, showing its earliest public uses to have been religious. The simplest language which the private or the social heart knew for its joys and griefs, was naturally the best that could suggest itself to the fresh instincts of the early races for their temple service and communion with the common Parent. Slight must have been the difference then between secular and sacred music. It was all sacred, for it was of the heart; it was all secular, for it sprang spontaneously from childlike intimacy with nature, when the sense of the supernatural was not divorced from any natural experience.

And what sort of melodies were those thus born in common life and consecrated at the altar? Mere stammerings and ignorant gropings after Melody; simple, rude and grave (they would now seem), even although mirth-inspired — for there was no Scale of tones established, and of course no Harmony; nor was there through all the glowing period of Grecian art, in which we hear such marvellous effects ascribed to Music, nor even until far down into the Christian centuries. Talking began before grammar; and Music began before Scales, Thorough Bass, or Counterpoint.

It is not to be wondered, that these primitive rude germs of Melody, adopted into the keeping of the first ministers of religion, Pagan, Hebrew, or Christian, should have become traditional and stationary models, consecrated as the sole legitimate forms of music, so that they really checked the free and natural unfolding of the Art. In the history of Music, as in our own lives, it may be true that the ghosts of our past habits, if we respect them too much, paralyze present endeavor. As every religion, every cultus, however true and fresh out of the heart and heaven once, almost immediately entered its slow phase of superstition, dogmatism, and exclusivism; so these first tuneful aspirations of an age before Art, being adopted by the church, became dull psalms and ordinances, which the creative genius did not dare to overstep. As the priests took the conscience and the thinking of men into their own keeping, so they became the keepers of the infancy of Music; and closely was the child kept to its cradle, as if it had no destiny beyond, rocked by certain rules and theories out of the brains of bookish monks and pedants, who allowed it only that expansion and no airing in the secular and growing world of nature and of genius. Those rules and theories, (the slowly creeping so-called Science of Music), as well as the plain old stock of tunes and chants out of whose substance it was all derived, were a Greek legacy, an outright adoption of the Greek Modes or Scales, which were no scales at all, – at least not Nature's Scale, -inasmuch as they had not the means of Harmony, but were to a great extent mere barren sequences of notes in unison. Yet to their conventional and scarcely melodious series, to their consecrated poverty of tones, was all the science of the priestly guardians of Music limited. The Music of the first five or six ages of the Christian Church consisted of the simple Canto Fermo or "Plain-Chant," called after Ambrose and Pope Gregory, which was sung in unison or octaves. No harmony, no parts appear in the old Missals, Rituals, and Antiphonaria. Indeed, says Dr. Burney, "the chants of the first ages have no other constituent part of good music than that of moving in some of the intervals belonging to the Diatonic scale; nor do

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any stronger marks of selection and design appear in them, than might be expected in a melody formed by a fortuitous concourse of musical sounds." (Vol. II, 41.)

Nor is it to be wondered, again, that out of this very self-denial and limitation there should have been a certain positive gain of masculine vigor and sublimity. The superior richness and variety which some enthusiasts about the "only genuine" old sacred music find in the Ecclesiastical or Gregorian Tones, so called, is not to be set down altogether to imagination and to the peculiar ears of "Pusey-ism." We may smile at their assertion of the degeneracy of all modern music, as if every deviation from the twelve church Modes or Tones or Scales, were a corruption and approach to worldliness. We may point also to the fallacy of supposing that the old works were richer in their twelve scales, borrowed from the Greek, than we are in our two, which we call Major and Minor. We may easily show that their twelve authentics and plagals were simply our one scale in a sheathed state of half-development, (as Goethe says that snakes and fishes are sheathed men). The seven notes of our natural Diatonic Scale were the fixed elements of each and all of them; the semi-tones had not yet got their arms out; and at this point the serial unfolding was arrested. Yet we may well admit that each Mode had a genius, or character peculiar to itself. Only it was the character acquired by various modes of limiting oneself in Melody. They were so many arbitary species of self-denial, such as the limiting of thoughts and words to lines of certain length and rhyme, which Byron thought not altogether uninspiring when he buckled to it. Let this serve for the present. We shall resume the subject more particularly.

Franz Schubert.

It is not generally known that this rare genius manifested itself in other fields of the musical art, besides that of the immortal Song-composer. But since his early death, day after day has been disclosing manuscript upon manuscript of his, in which his creative activity and rich imagination had been embodying themselves in all the greater and lesser forms of composition. With a true Shakspearian carelessness about present fame, he published little or nothing of these; but, writing because his soul was full, because he could not help it, he left the beauteous offspring of his brain to find their own way in the world, as chance or the concern of admiring friends might rescue this or that opera, symphony or quartet from the fate of mere waste paper. In the hands of his heirs in Vienna, these piles of MSS. became as good as bank bills, or stock-certificates in the ever growing, never depreciating fund of his artistic fame.

Our friend, Mr. H. Perabeau, has kindly furnished us the following statement with regard to the compositions Schubert left behind him. Brief as it is, it includes truly an astonishing catalogue!

"FRANZ SCHUBERT was born on the 31st of January, 1797, and died the 19th of November, 1828, in Vienna. This talented composer lived and died almost unnoticed by the world at large. Devoted exclusively to the art and not seeking fame, he wrote in his short career about 145 musical works. A great admirer of BEETHOVEN, he may be said

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to have been the only one approaching this immortal master in the conception of elevated and grand ideas in his symphonies, and unsurpassed in his celebrated Songs. Having studied music without any master, his instrumental compositions sometimes overleap the general plan and unity of the whole, bringing in quite foreign parts, which sometimes would have been better omitted. As to the difficulty of execution, he never took any notice of it, but wrote whatever his genius dictated at the moment, thus making his works very difficult. Among his works we notice:

"His first Quartet for strings, op. 29, in A min.; two Quartets, op. 125, in E flat and E; grand Quartet op. posth. in F; grand Quintet for piano and strings, op. 114, in A maj.; first grand Trio for piano, violin and 'cello, op. 99; second grand Trio for piano, etc. op. 100, in E flat, a famous work; Serenade for piano, violin and 'cello, op. 124; Rondo brillant for piano and violin, op. 70; three Sonatinas op. 137; many compositions, as Sonatas, Marches, Variations, etc. for piano with four hands; two grand Sonatas for piano alone, op. 42 in A min. and op 53 in D; three grand Sonatas (op. posth.). Many compositions for piano alone. Mass for four voices and orchestra, op. 48; another, op. 141; Tantum ergo, four voices and orchestra, op. 45; two Offertoires for soprano or tenor, with orchestra and organ, op. 46 and 47; Antienne for Palm Sunday, four voices, op. 113; the 23d Psalm, for two sopranos and two contraltos with organ, op. 132. Songs for four male voices, op. 11, 14, 16, 17, 28, 61. About three hundred Songs, to words by Goethe, Schlegel, Ruckert, Heine, etc.

"Most of his works were left in MSS., as: six Masses; twelve Symphonies, of which MENDELSSOHN had one (in C maj.) published; ten Operas: viz., the Spiegelritter, Teufels Lustschloss, Claudine de Villa Bella, Rosamunde, Les Conjurés, Die Minnesaenger, Les Amis de Salamanque, Fernando, Fier-à-bras, Le mauvais Ménage, and two unfinished ones: Adraste and Sacontale.

"Among his Songs published after his death is 'Die Waldesnacht, by Schlegel,' undoubtedly the greatest of all his Songs. The figures in the accompaniment carry you on like the storm-wind through the old pine-woods, which fall cracking before this mighty element; the lightning flames in the dark night, etc. 'Gruppe aus dem Tartarus ("Groups from Tartarus") by Schiller,' is another very characteristic Song. Very many of his fine compositions are still unknown.

His too powerful and active spirit destroyed his body in the bloom of life, (31 years old,) as was the case with MENDELSSOHN, WEBER, MOZART, etc. His last request was, to be buried next to BEETHOVEN.

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"THE THREE MUSICAL JOURNALS.". Such is the title of a very friendly editorial in the last number of Mr. WILLIS'S " Musical Times," welcoming our advent. Kind words, indeed, have saluted us from almost all quarters of the Press; and they are the more encouraging, that we have not in any instance sought them, and that we fancy we detect in their tone a certain genuine cordiality, distinguishing them from mere puffs in the way of business. We really think of appointing some one steward and secretary to our vanity, who shall take pride in editing a Leporello catalogue of our conquests in this line. But we especially value the aforesaid generous notice

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