The trio, played to perfection, brought the concert worthily to a conclusion, and obtained another hearty 'ovation' for Mme. Schumann, who can scarcely fail to have been gratified by such fresh and lively marks of sympathy on the part of her many friends and admirers in England."

"Our opinion of this lady has not to be re-stated," says the Athenæum critic. "Without question, she is a great musician and understands thoroughly what she undertakes to do; but we find her reading frequently unrefined, under pretext of freedom, and cannot like her manner of execution. The pianoforte is an instrument to be played with, not pounded on; and let the amount of power be what it will, the grace of poetry must harmonize it (especially when the player is of the gentler sex); otherwise the exhibition tends towards an egotistic display of finger, and wrist, and elbow. Mme. Schumann's playing on Monday was not, to our thinking, remarkable, save as proving her familiarity with the music she produced and her habit of impressing her audience by a show of fervor. This unpalatable impression must be put on record for the sake of every inan, woman, and child whom pianoforte-playing concerns; and the more readily because there is no chance of its dis turbing the success of an engagement of a real musician, a good wife, and a devoted mother."

tist"

-so says one of his biographers-"has written numerous works, which differ from those of all other composers, and which possess the greatest abundance of the most original ideas, as well as the most lively spirit, enchanting professional and non-professional connoisseurs, then there cannot be a doubt whether such an artist has been a real genius or not." The most fruitful imagination, the most inexhaustible mind, the most delicate and acute criticism in the application of that which arose from his treasure of thought, the most cultivated taste which would never even tolerate a single arbitrary note, the greatest facility in the proper appreciation of the best artistic means, and lastly the highest degree of cleverness in performance and execution-all these qualities are surely the marks of true genius, and they all existed in Bach. He who doubts the genius of Bach's works does not know them. They must be studied; the most persevering study must be given to them if we would find out all their beauties. That "butterfly" spirit, which carelessly flits from flower to flower, without resting upon any, cannot avail in the consideration of the works left us by this mighty master.

It is remarkable that the creations of Bach in his own time neither found that circulation, nor possess ed that influence, which their high merit justified them in claiming. There was even a period-soon after his death, and lasting half a century-in which they were almost laid on the shelf and forgotten. Only during the last fifty or sixty years they have gained their universal and proper acknowledgment. And even this had happened during a time when such a reaction might have been least expected-at a time when the art of music had given itself up to the gratification of the senses.

The reasons of the neglect and subsequent revival of the creations of the great master are perhaps easily understood. It is well known that, toward the middle of the last century, particularly on the other side of the Rhine, new ideas of thinking, feeling, and acting spread through the empire of politics, religion, science and art. New ideas on human circumstances in general arose, and civilization entered on a new phase of its history. During this movement all that rested on an insecure basis was overthrown. And this was the fate of the German music. The grand compositions of Bach were ignored by the sceptics of the time. A new building was to be crected, and the peculiar German indifference with regard

What chiefly strikes us in the above criticisms is the number of polysyllables used by the Daily News critic, the importance attached to the opinion of the audience by the Times critic, and the stress laid upon Mme. Schumann's domestic virtues by the critic of the Athenæum. But it is evident that either the Daily News critic or the Athenæum critic is grossly in the wrong. The former admires the manner in which "the personality of the player and the exhibition of mechanical dexterity are subordinated," &c. ; while the latter notices a tendency towards "an egotistic display of finger, and wrist, and elbow." The former tells us twice, in almost identical words (once not being enough), that Mme. Schumann's playing belongs to the "highest order of intellectual interpretative art;" while the latter finds her reading "frequently unrefined, under pretext of freedom," and her execution wanting in "the grace of poetry." It seems to us that "show of fervor" (which is more likely to impress an audience than true fervor without visible show) and a deficiency in grace are really noticeable points ir Mme. Schumann's style. But she has great pow-ferent basis. In a similar manner the whole range of er, she is a pianist not merely of reputation but of celebrity; and the Atheneum need not have called her "a good wife and a devoted mother."

Bach's Works.

(From "JoHN SEBASTIAN BACH; his Life and Writings. Adapted from the German of C. L. HILGENFELDT, with additions from other sources," as published in the London Choir).

(Continued from Vol. XXVI., page 378).

It is easy to understand that the various forms which Bach introduced into his compositions required great circumspection in their artistic treatment, as well as skill and facility in their application. All this was only possible to an artist whom nature had rewarded with her choicest gifts. To mention only a small part of Bach's wonderful facility,-he was enabled to work out extempore, a given phrase into a great number of the most varied themes in all kinds of taste and in all kinds of counterpoint and rhythm. At the first glance he could discover in a melody the various combinations contained in it; and he could devise whole passages of the most artificial canon and fugue and interweave them in such a manner that the melody was not weakened or obscured. He could even reverse his various subjects without in the least injuring the purity of the harmony. The various musical forms flowed so rapidly and so naturally with him that we lose all idea of the science-all idea of forced and artificial combinations—iu listening to his compositions.

During the period of Bach's highest artistic perfection he did not care in the least for the taste of his time. He had presented his offerings to fashion in former times; he was now above pandering to its devotees, and worked by tried principles and his own good taste. The "tradesmanlike" accomplishment of writing for the masses was unknown to him. Some of his works were undoubtedly written for certain occasions, but their composition belonged to his official duties; and even in these he made no concession to the taste of the hour. This it is that makes his music so lasting. Where truth and beauty show them. selves so pure and clear as in Bach's music, the feeling for that music will never cease. "When an ar

to the good things at home, and the eagerness to imitate and prefer that which was foreign aided materi ally in this. Also in clerical music experiments were made. The oratorio, too, was to be rebuilt on a dif

organ music, with regard to which Vogler, Rinck, and Hesse must be considered as the modern representatives. But whatsoever was done in this kind of composition, it neither fulfilled the expectations nor altogether the claims which an esthetic feeling required from a real work of art.

No wonder, then, that the human soul, tired out by eternal wanderings in the new musical labyrinth, at last longed for a secure haven, and following the desire for real satisfaction, returned to the true sources of life which it had sought for on the new road with such il success. This led to a revival of the older works, and at the head and culminating point stood those of Bach.

(To be continued.)

Death of Sir George Smart.

on.

den.

first time in this country Mendelssohn's oratorio St. Paul. A month previous to this art event he conducted the Manchester Festival, at which Malibran died. It was the Duke of Richmond, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, who knighted Sir George in 1811 at Dublin. Sir George was the musical director at Covent Garden Theatre in the Kemble days, when he went to Germany to engage Weber to produce OberThe renowned German composer died in the house of Sir George, then residing at 91, Great Portland Street, on the 4th of June 1826. Sir George Smart, in conjunction with Benedict (Weber's favorite pupil) was mainly instrumental in raising the subscription for the statue by Rietschel, erected in DresThe career of Sir George was one of the longest ever enjoyed by artist. He heard in his time Rauzzini (the tenor), Gabrielli (the prima donna), Miss Davies (who sang on the Italian stage), Signor Pacchierotti (male soprano), Mine. Mara, Signora Storace, Kelly (the tenor), Signora Banti, Mrs. Billington, Mme. Catalani, Tramazzone, Braham, Bartleman, Pasta, Tosi, Velluti, Camporesa, Fodar, Caradori, Malibran, Sontag, the Messrs. Strauss, David, Donzelli, Garcia (father of Malibran and Viardot), Vaughan, Bellamy, Sale, the Knyvetts, Harrison (the elder tenor), Miss Stephens (the Countess Dowager of Essex), Miss Paton (Lady W. Leuox and Mrs. Wood), Miss M. Tree (Mrs. Bradshaw), Miss Inverarity, Miss Sherriff, Mme. Stockhausen, Grisi, Clara Novello, Rubini, Tamburini, Lablache, and, in short, all the celebrities of the last half century, few of whom now live. Sir George, as a professor of the pianoforte, but much more as a singing master, was in great repute. He gave lessons until he was long past 80 years of age, and the majority of singers, native and foreign, destined for sacred sing. ing, took lessons of him, amongst whom the names of Jenny Lind and Sontag must be recorded. Sir George was a careful, conscientious musician, who always zealously performed the duties assigned to him. His great administrative ability was of invaluable service in large musical undertakings. His integrity was unimpeachable, and it was this honesty of purpose which preserved for him a popularity when art advancement had made rapid strides, and the stars of Rossini, Donizetti, Bellini, Meyerbeer, Spohr, Mendelssohn, &c., began to shine so brilliantly in this country. He has left a widow and one daughter. His nephew, Mr. Henry Smart, the well-known composer and organist, is son of Sir George's brother-the Mr. Smart who was a violinist, and leader of the orchestras at Drury Lane, Covent Garden, and the Lyceum theatres, and died at Dublin in 1823. The father of the two professors (the brothers Smart) was a music pablisher in Argyle Street, and from his father Sir George derived all the Handelian traditions.

The funeral of Sir George Smart took place on Thursday. The choirs of the Chapel Royal, St. Paul's Cathedral and Westminster Abbey were anxious to have afforded their aid in a musical service at the interment of Sir George, but at his express desire the funeral, which took place in Kensel Green Cemetery, was strictly private. The chief mourners were his daughter and neice, his nephew, Mr. Henry Smart, and Lady Smart's brother. Amongst the artists and amateurs present were Mr. Sterndale Bennett, the composer; Mr. Goss, the organist of St. Paul's Cathedral; Mr. Sullivan, Mr. Williams, Mr. Cocks, Mr. T. Chappell, Mr. Arthur Chappell, Mr. Gruneisen, Mr. Calcott, the Rev, E. Cock, Mr. O'Neil, R. A., &c. Mr. Costa was unable to attend, being in Paris for the production of his oratorio Naaman. Mr. Anderson, master of the Queen's Private Band, and Mr. Cusins, organist to Her Majesty, were unavoidably absent. The cortege reached the chapel at eleven o'clock, and shortly afterwards the coffin of Sir George Smart was deposited in the catacombs under the edifice.-London Times.

Richard Wagner's Programme to the Ninth Symphony of Beethoven.

It is a difficult matter for any one, not intimately acquainted with this wonderfully significant work of Art, to understand it on the first hearing. Hence it may be permitted to offer some aid to that considerable portion of an audience, who find themselves in this predicament; not indeed with a view to impartterpiece-since that can only come from intimate personal study and insight-but simply with the hope of furnishing some hints illustrative of its artistic arrangement, which in the great peculiarity and entirely unimitated novelty of the work might escape the observation of the unprepared and easily confused hearer. Taking it for granted that it is the essential problem of the higher instrumental music, to express in tones what cannot be expressed in words, we think

we can approximate to the solution of an insoluble problem by calling in the aid of words of our great poet GOETHE. These, to be sure, stand in no immediate connection with Beethoven's work, and can in no wise indicate the meaning of his purely musical creation with any thoroughness. Yet so nobly do they express those higher moods of the human soul which lie at the foundation of this symphony, that in the impossibility of any fuller understanding one may content himself with identifying these moods, so that he need not go away from a hearing of the music without at least some apprehension of its purport.

FIRST MOVEMENT (Allegro ma non troppo, D minor.)-A most sublimely conceived conflict of the soul, struggling after joy, against the pressure of that hostile power, that stations itself between us and all earthly bliss, appears to lie at the foundation of this first movement. The great main theme, which at the very outset steps forth from a gloomy veil in all the nakedness of its terrible might, may perhaps, not altogether inappropriately to the sense of the entire tone-poem, be translated by the words of Goethe,

"Entbehren sollst du! Sollst entbehren!"

[This in most of the translations is rendered: "Renounce! Thou must renounce." But the word entbehren does not signify "renounce." The meaning of the phrase is, (for it cannot be given in a word), that it is the destiny of man always to have wants which caunot be satisfied.]

Opposed to this powerful enemy we recognize a noble spirit of defiance, a manly energy of resistance, which to the very middle of the movement rises to an open conflict with the adversary, in which we seem to see two mighty wrestlers, each of whom leaves off invincible. In isolated gleams of light we may discern the sweet, sad smile of happiness, that seems to seck us, for whose possession we strive, and from whose attainment we are withheld by that maliciously powerful foe, who overshadows us with his nocturnal wings, so that even to ourselves the prospect of that far-off grace is dimmed and we relapse into a dark brooding, which has only power to rouse itself again to new defiance and resistance, and to new wrestlings with the demon who robs us of true joy. Thus force, resistance, struggle, longing, hoping, almost reaching, again losing, again seeking, again battling-such are the clements of restless movement in this marvellous piece of music, which droops however now and then into that more continuous state of utter joylessness, which Goethe denotes by the words:

"But to new horror I awake each morn
And I could weep hot tears, to see the sun
Dawn on another day, whose round forlorn
Accomplishes ro wish of mine, not one;
Which still, with froward captiousLess, impairs
F'en the presentiment of every joy,
While low realities and paltry cares

The spirit's fond imaginings destroy.

And then when falls again the veil of night, Stretch'd on my couch I languish in despair; Appalling dreams my troubled soul affright; No soothing rest vouchsafed me even there," &c. At the close of the movement, this dreary, joyless mood, growing to gigantic magnitude, seems to embrace the All, as if in grand and awful majesty it would fain take possession of this world, which God has made-for Jor!

SECOND MOVEMENT. (Scherzo molto vivace.) A wild delight seizes us at once with the first rhythms of this second movement: it is a new world into which we enter, in which we are whirled away to giddiness, to loss of reason; it is as if, urged by des peration, we fled before it, in ceaseless, restless ef forts chasing a new and unknown happiness, since the old one, that once sunned us with its distant smile, seems to have utterly forsaken us. Goethe expresses this impulse, not without significance perhaps for the present case, in the following words,—

--"The end I aim at is not Joy.

I crave excitement, agonizing bliss," &c. "In depths of sensual pleasure drown'd, Let us our fiery passions still! Enwrapped in magic's veil profound, Let wondrous charms our senses thrill! Plunge we in time's tempestuous flow, Stem we the rolling surge of chance! There may alternate weal and woe, Success and failure, as they can, Mingle and shift in changeful dance; Excitement is the sphere for man!" With the headlong entrance of the middle-subject there suddenly opens upon us one of those scenes of earthly recreation and indulgence; a certain downright jollity seems expressed in the simple, oft-repeated theme; it is full of naiveté and self-satisfied cheerfulness, and we are tempted to think of Goethe's description of such homely contentment,

"I now must introduce to you
Before aught else, this jovial crew,
To show how lightly life may glide away;
With them each day's a holiday;
With little wit and much content,

Each on his own small round intent," &c.

But to recognize such limited enjoyment as the goal of our restless chase after satisfaction and the noblest joy, is not our destiny; our look upon this scene grows clouded; we turn away and resign ourselves anew to that restless impulse, which with the goading of despair urges us unceasingly on to seize the fortune, which, alas! we are not destined to reach so; for at the close of the movement we are again impelled toward that scene of comfortable indulgence, which we have already met, and which we this time at the first recognition of it repulse from us with impatient haste.

THIRD MOVEMENT. (Adagio molto e cantabile, in B flat major). How differently these tones speak to our hearts! flow pure, how heavenly soothing, they melt the defiance, the wild impulse of the soul tormented by despair, into a tender and melancholy feeling! It is as if memory awoke within us,-the memory of an early enjoyed and purest happiness,"Then would celestial love, with holy kiss, Come o'er me in the Sabbath's stilly hour,

While, fraught with solemn and mysterious power, Chimed the deep-sounding bell, and prayer was bliss." And with this recollection there comes over us once more that sweet longing that is so beautifully expressed in the second theme of this movement (Andante moderato, D major), and to which we may not unfitly apply Goethe's words,—

"A yearning impulse, undefined yet dear,
Drove me to wander on through wood and field;
With heaving breast and many a burning tear,
I felt with holy joy a world revealed."

It seems like the longing of love, which again is answered, only with more movement and embellishment of expression, by that hope promising and sweetly tranquillizing first theme, so that on the return of the second it seems to us as if love and hope embraced, so that they might the more entirely exert their gentle power over our tormented soul. It is as when Faust speaks, after the Easter bells and chorus of angels,

"Wherefore, ye tones celestial, sweet and strong,
Come ye a dweller in the dust to seek ?

Ring out your chimes believing crowds among." Even so seems the yet quivering heart with soft resistance to wish to keep them off; but their sweet power is greater than our already mitigated defiance; we throw ourselves overpowered into the arms of this gracious messenger of purest bliss,

"O still sound on, thou sweet, celestial strain, Tears now are gushing,-Earth, I'm thine again!" Yes, the bleeding heart seems to be getting healed and re-invigorated, and to be manning itself to that exalted courage which we think we recognize in the almost triumphant passage towards the end of the movement. Still, this elevation is not yet free from the reaction of the storms survived; but every approach of the old pain is instantly met with renewed alleviation from that gentle, magic power, before which finally, as in the last expiring gleams of light ning, the dispersed storm disappears.

FOURTH MOVEMENT. The transition from the third to the fourth movement, which begins as it were with a shrill shriek, may be pretty well indicated again by Goethe's words:

"But ah! I feel, howe'er I yearn for rest,
Contentment flows no longer from my breast."---.
"A wondrous show! but ah! a show alone!
Where shall I grasp thee, infinite nature, where?
Ye breasts, ye fountains of all life, whereon
Hang heaven and earth, from which the blighted soul
Yearneth to draw sweet solace, still ye roll
Your sweet and fost'ring tides---where are ye--where!
Ye gush, and must I languish in despair?"

With this beginning of the last movement, Beethoven's music assumes decidedly a more speaking character. It quits the character preserved in the three first movements, of pure instrumental music, which is marked by an infinite and indeterminate expression. The progress of the musical invention or poem presses to a decision, to a decision such as can only be expressed in human speech. Let us admire the way in which the master prepares the introduction of speech and the human voice, as a necessity to be expected, in this thrilling Recitative of the instrumental basses, which, already almost forsaking the limits of absolute music, as it were with eloquent, pathetic speech approaches the other instruments, urging them to a decision, and finally itself passes over into a song-theme, which sweeps the other instruments along with it in its simple, solemn, joyons current and so swells to a mighty pitch. This seems like the final effort to express by instrumental music alone a secure, well-defined, and never clouded state of joy ; but the untractable element seems incapable of this limitation; it foams up to a roaring sea, subsides again, and stronger than ever presses the wild, chaotic shrick of unsatisfied passion upon our car.-Then

Jov, thou spark of heav'nly brightness,
Daughter from Elysium!.
Hearts on fire, with step of lightness,
On thy holy ground we come.
Thou canst bind all, each to other,
Custom sternly rends apart;
All mankind are friend and brother,
Where thy soft wing fans the heart.

He whom happy fate hath granted
Friend to have and friend to be,
Faithful wife who never wanted,
Mingle in our jubilee!
Yea, who in his heart's sure keeping
Counts but one true soul his own!
Who can not, oh! let him, weeping,
Steal away and live alone.

Joy all living things are drinking;
Nature's breasts for all do flow;
Good and evil, all unthinking,

On her rosy way we go.
Kisses gave she, vine-crowned leisure,
Friend in death aye true to friends!
Meanest worm hath sense of pleasure:
Before God the seraph stands!

Animated, warlike sounds approach; we fancy that we sce a troop of youths marching up, whose joyous, heroic spirit is expressed in the words,— Joyous as yon orbs in gladness

Speed along their paths on high,
Let us on to victory!

Brothers, come, away with sadness!

This leads to a sort of joyful contest, expressed by instruments alone; we see the youths plunge boldly into battle, of which the crown of victory shall be Joy; aud yet again we feel prompted to cite words

of Goethe,

.

"He only merits liberty or life, Who daily conquers them.'

The victory, of which we doubted not, is won; the exertions of strength are rewarded by the smile of joy, which breaks forth jubilant in the consciousness of bliss newly earned by conquest,—

"Joy thou spark," &c.

And now in the high feeling of Joy the expression of the universal Love of Man bursts forth from the swelling breast; in sublime inspiration we turn from the embrace of the whole human race to the great Creator of all things, whose benign presence we declare with clearest consciousness, yes-whose face we in a moment of sublimest transport imagine we bohold through the blue opening ether,

"O embrace now, all ye millions!
Here's a kiss to zll the world!
Brothers, o'er yon azure fold
Shine a Father's star pavilions!

with,

"Feel ye yonr Creator near?''
"Seek him in yon starry sphere," &c.

In the most confiding possession of the happiness
vouchsafed, of the most child-like susceptibility to
joy regained, we now surrender ourselves to its frui-
tion; innocence of heart is restored to us, and with
benediction the soft wing of Joy is spread over us,—
"Thou canst bind in one again
All that custom tears apart;
All mankind are brothers, when
Waves thy soft wing o'er the heart."

This was the best ending if we could not have the whole; but how one longed for the solution of the problem of that first movement! True, the celestial Adagio hints it; but it would have been so much better to have gone on, and let the double-basses in their recitative tread out a path for human voices and the great chorus of the "Hymn to Joy," the Brotherhood to all Mankind!

(After the fourth performance, March 26, 1859.) Mr. Zerrahn had labored, with all the faculties of soul and body, in the drilling of his orchestra to render this great work; and, as he came through the task so happily, he must have grown by it; it must have added to his stature, moral and artistic. It was a victory to strengthen one through life. The orchestra did their part admiraby; to note some slight blur in a horn part here, or a trumpet there, would be mean criticism, when, as a whole, the complicated and immensely difficult work came out so clear. And more than this, it was played with real fervor.

The fourth movement also opened clearly. The "Joy" tune, so plain and simple, yet so pregnant, was hummed over by the basses, and played around with fanciful and happy humor by the reeds, &c. (like troups of garlanded children frolicking in front of a festival procession), and then rung out with all the thrilling energy of the whole orchestra, with more and more exciting interest. The difficulty of course came where the great point was reached, of human utterance. It needed the greatest of bassos to strike the magic blow at the right moment in that first immensely difficult recitative, and so break the back of the vocal difficulty once for all, as the double-basses had done in the instrumental. Mr. Powers succeeded to a degree highly creditable to himself, if not fully adequate to the intention of Beethoven. The whole of the quartet of solos indeed deserve praise; their parts were extremely difficult, and the complete achievement thereof could only be expected of a quartet of the Jenny Lind and Formes calibre. Mrs. Harwood, especially, as the leading soprano, won the thanks and the respect of true Art-lovers by the self

forgetting spirit with which she made her fine voice

help towards the complete production of a grand artistic whole much of it she sang admirably, and we know not the singer among us who could have come through such a trial better or as well. Mr. Adams, tenor, and Miss Twitchell, contralto, added to their reputation with all intelligent and reasonable listen

ers.

(After the fifth performance, April 2, 1859.)

It is easy to jeer at enthusiasm, and at the bare suggestion of the possibility that the composer could have meant anything by such music. He at least meant to express himself; if we know the man Beethoven at all, it is from this expression, from his Symphonies, Sonatas, &c., only or chiefly, that we read

things, and if, judged by its intrinsic and ideal meaning, judged from the standpoint of the composer's thought and purpose, it is found to be really true and great, even though singers rarely and almost never can be found to perfectly embody it, was it not a greater thing to do, is it not a greater thing for the hearer's mind to contemplate, than any possible amount of that kind of success in vocal writing which simply caters to the singers, and runs into commonplace phrases and cadenzas of stereotyped "passion,"

by which said singers win a cheap, mere personal success, and publics are corrupted into caring more for singers than for music, more for what is most available than for what is good?

We do not undertake to say whether this Symphony is artistically the most perfect of Beethoven's Symphonies. This is a question about which intelligent musicians are even now divided, though every year brings a large gain of votes for it. But no intelligent musician has the fool-hardiness to deny that it is a great work; that height of critical assurance and all-knowingness was reserved for certain Sir Oracles in Boston newspapers! All, who have studied the Choral movement, (at least all who are up to the trne enjoyment of any of Beethoven's great symphonies,) will testify that they find it on examination more and more clear, consistent, logical, direct, and to the purpose that the whole work sets out with. The singers themselves, when they rehearsed it in the crowded little amphitheatre below, found the excitement of its progress irresistible, were lifted up by it, and sang "better than they knew." Rare conditions, even such as elude human forethought, even luck, as we call it, even inspiration, are essential to the successful rendering of all rare things.

The soli passages were considerably improved. There was measurable success in all until it came to that remarkable passage, where orchestra and chorus cease, and the soli voices are left hanging high in the air, yet climbing still by slow half-tones to s higher height, from which they subside through what may be called an elaborate quadruple cadenza, an intertwining of four distinct cadenzas of the four parts. Yet the apprehensive listener found far more pleasure

in having this thus only indicated, than disappointment in the comparative failure of the execution.

not unanimous. In 1856 (March 1) the first three instrumental movements, minus the Finale with chorus, were performed again on the memorable occasion of the inauguration of Crawford's noble statue of Beethoven, presented to the Music Hall by Mr. Charles C. Perkins. Finally, in March, 1859, Mr. Zerrahn brought it out twice, in full, in his "Philharmonic" concerts; and then again the impression which it made was certainly such as to warrant the expectation of its annual return as regularly as that of "The Messiah." Indeed, the short-comings in the execution, such as they were naturally in an isolated effort, only showed the importance of repeating the experiment at shorter intervals with the same forces, so that they might get accustomed to each other and the work. That hope was disappointed, and now after eight years we take it up anew from the beginning, believing that the improved musical

means and taste of Boston will ensure a better success than ever before at the first trial, and that the zeal developed in the effort will not suffer itself to grow quite cold again for want of at least annual rekindling.

The Ninth Symphony is not so difficult to understand, and certainly not so incoherent, as many have imagined, with a little preparation. It needs a key to be sure, and to have the connection and mutual bearing of its parts, especially the relation of the voices to the orchestra, studied over somewhat beforehand. Many have already done this; but many of our readers also

have not and will come to it as new listeners, wondering what it all may mean. For their sakes, at the risk of tediousness, we have repro

Dwight's Journal of Music.duced from old volumes of the Journal parts of

BOSTON, MARCH 30, 1867.

The usual four pages of Music are replaced to-day by the Title Page and Index for the past two years of the Journa (Vols. XXV. and XXVI). In the next number the publication of Mendelssohn's "St. Paul" will be resumed.

the record of our impressions after the several performances alluded to. By reading the whole, incomplete and vague as is the picture it presents, one can scarcely help getting some light on the Symphony which will make him listen more intelligently. We have also given Wagner's curious parallel of its movements with passages in

he wrote in carnest; such men always do and must; and not merely to make music for the idle pastime of an hour. They who sneer in this way, only show a mean desire to drag all great and high things down

to the level of their own life.

It is easy to hint, too, as some paragraphists have done, that while the fourth movement must be allowed to have a meaning, necessitated by the words, a hymn to "Joy," yet it was absurd and crazy in the setting of those words to music to strain after high, sublime, religious effects, instead of seeking, or indulging in, the simple, natural expression of joyous emotions in music simple, natural, careless. buoyant

-in a word, pretty. That was not the joy that Beethoven or Schiller meant. That you had in the Scherzo; but now it is a Joy that fills, that satisfies the whole nature, the whole soul of man, joy only found in union with all souls, and hence with God, in the universal brotherhood of man, in the "embrace of the millions," in that truest freedom, that holiest kind of ecstacy, which lifts us up to conscious childlike communion with "the Father that dwells above

the stars." These are the texts, this the whole drift and spirit of the poem; and on this the grand musi cian seized by pure affinity of heart and soul, and summed up the music of his life, all its characteris

tic themes and motives, all that he had ever been reiterating, with all the earnestness of his nature, and in forms ever new and wonderful, in these symphonic choral illustrations of it.

The Choral movement of the Symphony is not clear to all, partly because it contains so much and aims so high, and reaches it, and partly because of the great difficulties which the voice parts offer to performers. It is because Beethoven wrote to express what was in his mind, his heart, and not with entire reference to the convenience or best personal display of singers. In this he cannot be measured by the usual Italian standard. The work, of course, is exceptional; allowance must be made for these

Orchestra.

BEETHOVEN'S "CHORAL SYMPHONY" occu

pies a large part of our space to-day, to the exclusion of much customary matter. The Harvard Musical Association, having successfully completed their second series of eight concerts (the eighth, yesterday, was too late for notice now), have decided to give one more, for the double purpose of complimenting their pains-taking and efficient Orchestra by what they trust will prove a solid Benefit, and of bringing out again in Boston, after too long an interval of eight years, Beethoven's last and sublimest Symphony, in the Finale of which the instruments call in the aid of human voices, giving musical interpretation to the most significant stanzas from Schiller's "HYMN TO JOY" (Lied an die Freude).

Well do we remember the first time we heard

it, when it was given for the first time in this country at Castle Garden in New York, by the Philharmonic Society, increased to about one hundred instruments:-a hastily extemporized, crude, confused attempt, and yet, so unmistakeable were the grand features of the work, so full of inspiration, as to excite and haunt the mind forever after. In Boston it was first attempted in February, 1853, by the Germania Musical Society, under Bergmann, who performed it twice with marked success, although the interest was

Those who like to look into the structure of the work a little more technically, will be aided by a thematic analysis of all the four movements contributed to this Journal (Vol. XIV., 1859) by our good friend Capt. G. A. Schmitt.

This Concert is fixed for Friday Afternoon, April 12, at half-past three. It will be, as we

have said, for the benefit of the Orchestra, who have served us so faithfully in the cause of the highest, purest music during the past two winters. Surely every subscriber to the past series will recognize the debt of gratitude. The musicians, who compose our orchestras, have mostly a pretty hard time of it to make both ends meet; hitherto they have had to earn their bread chiefly ing to tastes not classical or earnest or refined.' outside of really artistic occupation and by cater

Let them feel, then, that the lovers of the best enough and united enough to make all that they music are now numerous enough and earnest may do in the spirit and direction of true Art Concerts have demonstrated that the purest prosafe and profitable to them. The Symphony grammes can be made to pay; let us multiply as much as possible the calls for this higher occupation on the part of our musicians, till they shall find their best material support in it, as well as the dignity of their profession set above reproach. The thousands of persons who were delighted by the Concert lately given for the Cretans, will not

forget the noble generosity with which these fifty-two musicians gave their services on that occasion. Now is the time to remember them.

The Symphony will form the Second Part of the Concert. There will be a short and brilliant First Part, consisting of Mendelssohn's picturesque “Meeresstille” Overture; Mozart's dashing aria: Non più andrai, by Mr. RUDOLPHSEN, and Weber's Polonaise in E (Liszt's transcription, with Orchestra), to be played by Mr. LANG,who made such brilliant effect with it last year. The quartet of soli singers in the Choral Symphony will be: Mrs. H. M. SMITH, Mrs. J. S. CARY, Mr. JAMES WHITNEY and Mr. RUDOLPHSEN. All the artists volunteer their service.

NEXT IN ORDER. These last days of March are as full of music as of East wind. (Some of it, to be sure, comes rather under the head of wind than of Art!). On Thursday, Mr. PERABO repeated, by request, his last "Schubert Matinée." Yesterday came the eighth and last Symphony Concert.

The

This evening, Miss ADDIE S. RYAN, the very pleas ing and artistic contralto singer, has a concert at Horticultural Hall, which we understand to be designed as a compliment to her by the artists who assist. And well has she deserved it, not only by her art, but also by her readiness to serve other artists and good public causes upon like occasions. programme is choice. Miss Ryan herself will sing the beautiful Aria from Mozart's Clemenza di Tito ("Non più di fiori"), with Clarinet obbligato by Mr. T. RYAN), a couple of songs by Mendelssohn; a Schumann Duet with Mr. KREISSMANN ; and a Duet from Cosi fan tutte, with Miss C. M. LORING. Mr. Kreissmann sings the exquisite tenor air from Mo. zart's Seraglio, and Miss Loring a Tyrolese Song Mr. LEONHARD plays the Andante spianato and Pol. onaise by Chopin. The Orpheus club contribute

Mendelssohn's festival music to Schiller's "Ode to the Artists" and a couple of part-songs; and the Mendelssohn Quintette Club an Allegro from Mendelssohn's B-flat Quintet and a Finale from Robert. Also this evening the "New England Conservatory of Music," at the Music Hall, inaugurates itself by a Concert, of which a leading feature will be the production of an original Piano Concerto by Mr. ROBERT GOLDBECK, one of the directors of the new institution. Four excellent vocalists (Soprano, Contralto (new to Boston), Tenor and Basso are announced; also three organists, including Mr. J. K. PAINE, fresh from Germany, and an Orchestra with ZERRAIN as Conductor.

To-morrow evening (31st) one of those "Grand

Sacred" windmill concerts, which catch a deal of wind by their huge vans of advertisement, and do much grinding "for the million,"not separating wheat from chaff. These arc managers' concerts; but somehow to us the light of a true artist does not seem to barn so clear when managed.

April opens on Monday with five nights of Italian Opera:-Mme. PAREPA-ROSA's debut here in that field, with ADELAIDE PHILLIPPS, and Mme. PATTI STRAKOSCH, and Signors BRIGNOLI, FERRANTI, FORTUNA, SUSINI, TAMARO and SARTI. A pretty strong company. On Monday, the innocent, sweet Trovatore! Tuesday, Norma; Wednesday, the "Barber of Seville"; Mme. Rosa taking the chief role in each.

Review of Concerts.

MENDELSSGIN QUINTETTE CLUB. The fourth and last subscription concert, at Chickering's Hall, was crowded and gave keen satisfaction. The programme consisted of three noble compositions.

1. Beethoven's Tenth Quartet (in E flat, op. 74) was repeated, and with redoubled interest to most

listeners. It is a thing to hear and brood upon again and again. Subtle and complex in its polyphonic interweaving of parts, thoroughly imagina tive, rich in contrasted moods, yet all consistent, all one inspiration, it came out clearer in the rendering, one of the happiest efforts of the Club.

2. The earlier one of the Schubert pair of Trios, The

the op. 99, in B flat, mentioned in our last. piano part was played,and splendidly, by Mr. Ernst PERABO again, taking the place of Mr. PARKER, who was ill. It impressed us more than before.

3.

The favorite old Mendelssohn Quartet, the energetic, fiery one in D, op. 46, which met with lively recognition and was truly good to hear.

The Quintette Club have greatly freshened up their laurels in this their eighteenth season, and have really created a revival in the interest in this high class of

music. We think the lovers of such would have gladly filled the room for several more evenings; but we understand the Club are going on a Western concert tour with Camilla Urso and Miss Phillipps, and we wish them all success, and with their best, so that they may sow good seeds along with the pleasant memories they leave.

Mr. CARLYLE PETERSILEA gave a fifth "Schumann Soirée" on the 14th, with this very interesting programme:

Sonata No. 2, in G minor (Op. 22)..
"One look, one word.".

Preambule and Scherzo (Op. 2).
Song: "Aufenthalt,"

Drei Romanzen, for Oboe and Piano..
"Adelaide.".

Schumann Schumann

.F. L. Ritter .. Schubert Schumann Beethoven .Berger

Grand Sonate, Op. 7............. After hearing the G-minor Sonata, we felt inclined to differ with Wasielewsky and prefer very much the earlier one, which Mr. l'etersilea has played before; here were fine passages,but also much that was unedifying. We must sincerely thank the young artist for introducing us to these two elaborate works of Schumann's early and unsettled, although very genial period. Mr. Ritter's Op. 2 pleased us more in the Preambule than in the Scherzo, which appeared more common.

The three little Romances,

which Mr. P. played with Mr. RIBAS, were quaint and full of individuai charm. The Sonata by Ber

ger we did not hear. Mr. RUDOLPHSEN's singing of the impassioned, beautiful song: Nur ein lächelnder Blick, &c., with its broad rhythm dictated by the hexameter of the poem, was capital and encored with zeal. The Schubert song was finely done too. Mr. Petersilea's rare selections and masterly performance alike deserved a larger audience.

ORCHESTRAL UNION. The Afternoon Concert of

Wednesday, the 20th, offered for orchestral pieces: the Freyschütz Overture and Beethoven's first Symphony in C, both always sure of welcome; also "The Awakening of Spring" by somebody not distinguished in name from the great Bach, and a Strauss waltz. Mr. A. SUCK played a solo on the Violoncello (Fantasia on Schubert's Sehnsuchts- Walzer by Servais) in a highly artistic and acceptable manner; and a piece for the four French Horns of the Orchestra, by Henselt (?), was a new and interesting feature and sounded well. Mr. F. SUCK conducted in the absence of Mr. Zerrahn.

Last Wednesday's programme included the Overture to Oberon and the romantic C-minor Symphony of Gade, now a great favorite. The second movement was particularly relished. Mr. HENRY SUCK played a Violin Fantasia by David on Russian themes in a style to win sincere applause; he has greatly improved. An Andante and Rondo from Weber's Piano Concerto in E flst, pleasing, characteristic compositions, full of tender grace the first, the second light and charmingly playful, was played by Mr. HERMANN DAUM and won considerable applause. A Strauss waltz wound up the whole as usual.

Mine. CAMILLA URSO received the just Compliment of a Concert in the Music Hall last Saturday evening, at the hands of Boston musicians, in which she played again Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto, in which we never heard her equal. Several distinguished artists took part, the freshest attraction being the young soprano, Miss HAUCK, from the Italian Opera. Great and miscellaneous was the crowd and the enthusiasm; but the affair was rather too mixed and too managerial to be the compliment which so true an artist as Mme. Urso ought to have. A return of services followed in kind (only "Sacred") the very next (Sunday) evening.

A better compliment is conveyed in the following TESTIMONIAL TO CAMILLA URSO, which appeared in the daily papers, and which of course no instrumental musician in Boston could re

fuse to sign, unless he would place himself in the false position of appearing slow to recognize the highest artistic excellence,BOSTON, March 7, 1867. Mad. Camilla Urso-Dear Madame:

I take great pleasure in transmitting to you the inclosed tribute of admiration for your artistic talent from the musicians of Boston. With feelings of high personal regard, believe me sincerely yours, THOMAS RYAN.

We, the undersigned, members of the Musical Profession in Boston, who have been recent witnesses of the extraordinary musical talent displayed by Camilla Urso in her performances on the violin, deem it our pleasure and duty as brethren (who it will be admitted are the more thoroughly capable of recog nizing skill in this department of the art) to offer some fitting testimonial to her. In no way, perhaps, can we express our regard so beneficially as by giving to the public a professional estimate of her ability. We consider it all the more proper to follow this line of action from the fact that in our opinion her artistic worth has never been fully appreciated by the general public. In the recent performances of Camilla Urso in Boston, whether in Mendelssohn's concerto or the works of Vieux temps and De Beriot, the same remarkable skill has been exhibited. But we would specially record her performance of the violin concerto by Mendelssohn, one of the most difficult works for that instrument, her playing of which was so marvellously fine and near perfection itself as to excite our highest admiration. It is not enough to say that it was a wonderful performance for a wo man; it was a consummate rendering, which probably few men living could improve upon.

It may seem needless to characterize her playing, but a few traits may be pointed out; viz., her complete repose of manner, largeness of style, broad, full and vigorous attacking of difficulties, utmost delica cy of sentiment and feeling, wonderful staccato, remarkable finish in trills, with an intonation as nearly perfect as the human ear will allow. When to these are added a comprehensive mind, with a warm musical soul vibrating to its work, we have an artist who may nearly be called a phenomenon in the womanly form of Camilla Urso.

Carl Zerrahn, Wm. Schultze, Wm. Wiesel, Stephen A. Emery, Carl Meisel, Otto Dresel, Thomas

Ryan, Wulf C. J. Fries, B. J. Lang. Ernst Perabo,

Geo. Loesch, F. Fries, Chas. J. Weintz, Joachim Schultze, Carl Faulnasser, Louis Robert Goeviner, L. Murphy, A. L. De Ribas, Francis Liebsch, Aug. Endres, August Suck, G. F. Suck, H. D. Suck, F. Zochler, Aug. Hamann, P. S. Gilmore, Carlvio Petersilea, Hugo Leonhard, Eugene Thayer, Junius W. Hill, Hermann Duam, Gustav Krebs, Chas. J. Dorn, Ambrose Davenport, Henry A. Stoehr, Fr. Zouehler, M.Arbuckle, A. Miersch, A. Heinloke, A. Kammerline, J. Rametti, Aug. Regestein, H. Steinmann, John Pinser, George H. Kuntzmann, Julius E. Eichler, P. Kalkmann, W. Stoche, Paul Eltz, Edward Beyer, C. W. Elchler, Chas. F. Bauer, Aug. Schneider, Aug. Stein, F. F. Ford, Isaac Moorhouse, M. Keller, John K. Paine, John H. Willcox, C. Koppitz, James C. D. Parker.

MUSIC IN NEW YORK. The fourth Philharmonic Concert contained the "Magic Flute" Overture; Beethoven's Second Symphony; Liszt's Poème Symphonique: "Tasso"; Chopin's F-minor Concerto, played by Mr. S. B. Mills; and Donizetti's "Deserto in terra" and Mozart's "Il mio tesoro," sung by Sig. Lotti. The orchestral performance, under

Bergmann, is said to have been admirable.

Mr. WOLFSOHN concluded his "Beethoven Matinées" last week with the great Sonata op. 106. The other Sonatas were that in F, op. 10, No. 2, and that marked "Les Adieux," &c., op. 81. Mme. Frederici