Fine-a more gratifying, satisfying, delightful, exciting evening we never passed at the Royal Italian Opera.

The house was filled in every part, despite the louder attractions of the Naval Artillery at Spithead, which drew manifold subscribers and habitués within the vortex of its sound, and kept them away.

To-night, Favorita for the last time, for Grisi and Mario. On Monday, Tuesday's performance will be given, in consequence of Grisi and Mario's departure for Italy, where they purpose resting themselves awhile before proceeding to America. Lucrezia Borgia, and selections from the Elisir d'Amore are the announcements. Lucrezia Borgia has been well chosen for the farewell performance of the incomparable twain.

On Thursday, the Prophete will be given; and on Saturday -this day se'nnight-the season closes with Guillaume Tell, and the National Anthem.

Dramatic.

a National Opera, and that if we had talent enough, it would meet with little or no encouragement from the public. Let but a manager provide our best native talent, we say, and use it in a judicious manner, it cannot fail to meet with success. Now, especially, when we have an artist of such splendid abilities as Sims Reeves, we are positive a national operaconducted very differently from the operatic establishment at Drury-Lane, by the way-must succeed. But of this byand-by.

That a triumphant success was achieved by Sims Reeves on Monday night we gather not only from universal report, but from the fact that Mr. Allcroft has announced three more performances for the great tenor, the first to come off on Wednesday evening, when Fra Diavolo and the Beggar's Opera will be given. We shall endeavour to be there, and report progress. Mr. Allcroft deserves the highest encouragement and support for his enterprise and determination.

news.

MISS LOUISA PYNE.

SURREY.-Mr. Balfe's opera, The Devil is in it, has been played to very good houses for the last fortnight. With the We have been requested to give publicity to the annexed Our exception of Miss P. Horton (as the Countess) in place of Miss correspondence, and have much pleasure in doing so. Poole, the cast remains exactly as it was last year. On readers will doubtless feel gratified at hearing of the comThursday evening, Miss Fanny Reeves made her appearance plete convalescence of so admirable an artist and universal a as Margaretta, in the farce of No Song, no Supper. Stephen favourite as Miss Louisa Pyne, of whose professional services Storace, the author of the music, was a justly popular writer it may be remembered we were so abruptly deprived in the of his day; but he wrote when music had but partially thrown middle of the past concert season; and groundless reports off the fetters of ancestral wisdom. For his general ability, we having got abroad respecting the present state of her powers, have words of Sheridan, "Had Stephen been bred to the law, their unqualified contradiction, by competent medical authonothing could have prevented him from becoming Lord Chan-rity, is worthy of being placed amongst our most interesting cellor." Storace wrote The Haunted Tower, and other obsolete operas. His melodies are, some of them, still listened to with 12A, Margaret Street, August 3, 1853. pleasure; but he wanted the knowledge of the orchestra, now DEAR SIR,-I find, on my return from the Continent, where I went by your advice to recruit my health, that reports are in cirabsolutely necessary in writing for the lyrical stage; and culation to the effect of my having sustained loss of voice, parahis instrumentation partakes largely of the baldness and ser- lysis, and other ailments, all calculated to do me great injury in vility of the period. Miss Fanny Reeves has a strong con- my profession. I must beg the favour of your certifying to the tralto voice, of good compass, though somewhat metallic in real facts of the case, in order that the public mind may be disquality, a defect which time will most probably remove. She abused of any such erroneous ideas. delivered her pretty opening ballad with a grace that elicited I remain, dear sir, yours faithfully, a loud and well-merited encore, and she acts with considerable confidence and ease. The Nelly of Miss Johnson deserves mention, as the performance of a young and promising actress.

SIMS REEVES AT THE LYCEUM.

THE special benefit alluded to in our last number-Mr. Allcroft's third this season-came off on Monday night at the Lyceum. The performances, as afore-stated, were Lucia di Lammermoor-done into the vernacular-and the Waterman. Sims Reeves was in both, and Mrs. Sims Reeves was in the former.

We did not attend the benefit, for three reasons. Firstly, we were favoured with no ticket; secondly, we were out of town; and thirdly, we could not get in.

We made inquiries, however, and learned that the crowd was immense, and that numberless scores of eager Reevesites had to be sent away complaining. The applicants for ingress, we were further informed, absolutely blocked up the Strand for an hour before the doors were opened, and the omnibuses and other vehicles coming Strandways had to diverge northwards, and make a detour to get into their direct line of journey again. It was a sight striking and gratifying. More, it was a sight suggestive, and must have stirred up the dull brains of those who fancy that we have not talent enough to support

To Jas. Yearsley, Esq.

LOUISA PYNE.

DEAR MISS PYNE,-It is with great satisfaction that I can comply with your request, by stating that there is no foundation whatever for the reports to which you allude. Your voice certainly sustained a temporary hoarseness from the severe cold you took at the Oxford installation, but you have had no paralysis, nor other ailments, beyond the constitutional debility left by the cold, on account of which I judged a temporary suspension of your usual avocations advisable. But now I may congratulate you on your complete recovery. Remain always yours faithfully,

15, Saville Row, St. James's, August 3, 1853.

MONSTER CONCERTS.

JAS. YEARSLEY.

A Foreign Correspondent having requested of us a description of what we in London were in the habit of entitling "Monster Concerts," we think we cannot do better than present him with an abstract of the programme which Mr. Howard Glover offered to his friends and the public on the occasion of his benefit-concert at Exeter-Hall on Monday evening, June the 27th. It may be framed and preserved as a musical curiosity.

him, or to blaze forth to the "World" his own trumpery feelings of indignation.

or the natural voice of holy zeal, has come down to us; not, it is true, as something foreign to our nature-for it had been lying dormant in the deeply poetic mind of our German nation long before it was awakened-but still as something acquired, in the form of a gift presented to us for our enjoyment, and as an ornament of our existence,

"An Amateur" may accuse me of writing anonymously, to which charge I must plead guilty-but under this extenuation of circumstances that I feel convinced, in the first place, the truth of my representations wanted no name to enforce their belief;and in the second, I had no desire-though I felt severely the Thus are our public gardens, our social circles, and our festivals, treatment my friend had received-to gratify any revengeful everywhere filled with streams of harmony; bands of music, conspirit, by publishing the name of the gentleman whose conduct I sisting of numerous instruments, the number of which is ever inthen condemned. Thirdly: I have a principle, and to which I creasing, parade before our military hosts, or make the ball-room. always rigidly adhere-before writing upon any subject, I take tremble with the "phrenzy of delight.' Where is the town, care to be in possession of all the facts belonging to the case, thereby however small, which does not attempt to get up, at least, a series being at all times ready to substantiate with my real name and of winter concerts? How many virtuosi, how many quartett address any assertions I may deem it advisable to make anony-societies, how many concerts of every kind and description, divert mously. This I would recommend to "An Amateur's" particular the music-loving multitudes of our larger cities! At what time notice to speak the truth, relying upon facts will ease his con- were there seen, almost everywhere, so many opera performances, science considerably when he next appears in the literary world. almost the whole year round? What time or country can show Fourthly: I never interfere in any business that does not concern me! anything equal to our musical festivals and musical societies? Or, "Amateur" may contend that this case did not concern me. I beg lastly, in what age, before the present, has music been so univerhis pardon; it did! In the first place, it concerned me, inasmuch sally recognised as an indispensable branch of education, both in as an intimate friend had been ill used; and in the second, as an word and in deed, and with such sacrifices of time and money? organist, I had a right to defend one of my own craft, and plead For this diffusion of music, the lively interest universally taken the cause of organists generally. But, in my opinion, "An Ama- in its cultivation, in every sphere of life, accords proportionate teur' can have no concern, either with the matter in question or means. However great the cost of instruction, instruments, printhe defence of organists. I much pity the organist who should ted music, &c., every family in the middle, as well as the higher be unlucky enough to attract the notice of such a defender!--"An ranks of society, endeavours to obtain them. There is nowhere a Amateur," ignorant of the duties of an organist, and wilfully lack of teachers; singing is practised in every school; seminaries, ignorant of the subject upon which he writes,-(in the hope of universities, and special music schools, continue the instruction immortalizing his name, perhaps !)-would do well in future to and lead it to a higher point; everywhere academies of singing, consider what he is going to do, and weigh his capabilities for the instrumental and general musical societies, established for the purtask he imposes upon himself. Above all, let him ask himself, pose of collective practice and performance, are found increasing. before sitting down to write again,-am I now going to speak the Municipal authorities and governments bestow attention upon, truth? am I prepared to prove what I assert? am I doing a and provide means for, the performance of works of art in chapels manly or friendly action ?--or, am I only endeavouring to mislead and in choirs, or for the musical instruction of the people; our the public, and rob_another man of his good name, without en- publishers and musicsellers diffuse the works of all nations and riching myself? Let "An Amateur" remember, although he all times to an extent and in a form unprecedentedly cheap and himself may have no name to lose, that other people have; and convenient; even the acquisition of good instruments has been that a man's name is of some little importance to him. It is always considerably facilitated by the progress of the mechanical arts. easier to inflict a wound than to cure one; therefore, the next Wonderful power of the art of sound! To open all hearts! time "Amateur" writes his opinion of anybody, let him stifle any engaging the interest and drawing contributions even from those petty feelings or malicious itchings to gratify any personal pique; who, for want of instruction, or from a naturally defective orgaand, if he cannot conscientiously speak well, let him charitably nization, are denied a participation in its pleasures; who willingly suggest no harm, even if he should happen to be acquainted with make sacrifices for those belonging to them, and then step aside, all the facts and truth of what he writes. content with the feeling of having afforded to others a pleasure which they themselves cannot enjoy!

Craving your indulgence, Mr. Editor, for the length of this epistle, believe me, my dear sir, August 9th, 1853.

In all sincerity, yours,

MUSIC.

VERITAS.

(From the Universal School of Music.)

BY DR. MARX.

THE first glance we take at the present state of musical art, reveals to us a picture of musical activity so great and universal as may scarcely have existed at any previous period; excepting, perhaps, during those lovely days once shining upon Italy and Spain. Then, indeed, the stream of holy song gushed from the open doors of every church, flowed down from every pilgrimcrested eminence; from every balcony the clang of festive trumpets enlivened the banquets of nobles and princes, and, in the stillness of the balmy night, the trembling chords of mandolines and citherns mingled with the voices of tender singers. So our own country also resounded, in the days of Luther, with his songs of warfare. Powerfully exciting, inspiring, and confirming, they swelled from the church choir, and through the open doors spread over the crowded market-place; they filled the busy streets with shouts of religious enthusiasm, and penetrated the private family circle, the lonely chamber of the pious Christian.

That which, in those countries and those days, arose spontaneously as the inborn medium of expression of a people more easily excited, and inhabiting a country rich in Nature's sweetest charms,

Whence has music this power? and how does it reward our love and sacrifice?

It has this power, and is all-powerful over mankind, because it seizes upon every fibre, sensually and spiritually, upon the whole body and soul, sensations and ideas. The rudest nature thrills under the effect of its powerful strains, and is soothed by its sweetness. Its sensual effect is in itself irresistibly enchanting; for the merely sensual hearer feels that this trembling of the nerves penetrates to the inmost depths of the soul, that this corporeal delight is purified and sanctified by its hidden connection with the origin of our existence. But he who has experienced in his own person how music calls forth, and leads, at pleasure, the most tender, powerful, and secret feelings of the soul, imparting a brightness to its mysterious twilight, awakening it to a dreamy consciousness; he to whom the deepest perceptions and ideas present themselves as spirits diverting him from, and raising him above, the fluctuating play of feelings and emotions; who is, in short, aware that our existence would be imperfect, did not the world of sound supply the deficiency: such a one knows that the most intellectual pleasure of the senses derived from hearing music is merely an attraction to its spiritual fountain, from which are drawn purity of feeling, elevation of mind, the contemplation of a new and boundless world of ideas, and a new sphere of existence.

The one is the all-penetrating, universally prevailing power of sounds; and the other, the promise of this art-a more elevated and blissful existence, which we, knowing or anticipating, confide in, and to which so many of us and ours are devoted.

But its nature, like man's own, is two-fold; partaking both of

Reviews of Music.

HAVE YOU FORGOT Us?"-Ballad. Poetry by Miss Frances Brown. Music by Augustus G. Fialon. T. Holloway. There are no pretensions in this ballad to soar above the atmosphere to which such trifles naturally belong; but it is pretty and sentimental, without being at all affected. It is in waltz measure, has an intelligible melody, and is accompanied with care and correctness. We can imagine that, if sung by an accomplished vocalist like Miss Birch, whose name is on the title page, the ballad of "Have you forgot us?" would not be unremembered. The poetry of Miss Frances Brown is sensible and unpretending-consequently fit for the purpose to which it is devoted.

the sensual (material); and the mental (spiritual). It has power
to raise us from a rude and barren state of being, to a higher,«
more susceptible, and spiritual existence; to soften and refine our
feelings, to awaken in us ideas of pure and perfect humanity; to
exalt us above the human sphere to the confines of the Divine,
and, in this mental elevation, fill our hearts with love and holy
zeal for everything that is good and noble. But this self-same
power of melody and harmony may also bury the yet unrevealed
indwelling spirit in the alluring waves of exciting sensuality, ob-
literating from the soul every noble feeling, and every virtuous
power, and gradually leading it to that thoughtlessness, that want
of principle and desire for sensual pleasure, which dissolves or stifles
every noble disposition, and in which train are found those strange
twins, satiety and insatiability, and that terrible condition of the
mind, utter indifference.

How then does this dangerous but dear art reward our love and our sacrifices?

In art itself, all is pure, noble, and good. It is the fault of our weakness, if to us the gift become poison; if we linger inactively upon the threshold of its sanctuary, or allow its call to die away unheeded, and, instead of joining the company of the initiated in its sacred halls, lose ourselves in the courts destined for the offal

of the sacrifice.

"THAT DAY.”—Song. Poetry by Mrs. Barrett Browning. Music composed by Alfred Nicholson. Addison and Hollier.

This, though brief and unassuming, is a ballad of very superior merit. The melody, suited to a contralto voice, is touching and musician.' The ballad is in three verses, without variation. The expressive, and the accompaniments show the practised hand of a words, describing the lament of a lady for her love, by Mrs. Barrett Browning, are amongst the most tender and natural of that exquisite poetess. Who has not thought of "that day?

"O LORD, REBUKE ME NOT!"-Psalm VI.
adapted and arranged by R. Andrews.
R. Andrews, Manchester.

Composed by Handel,
S. Willis, London;

We have already spoken of Mr. R. Andrews' edition of Handel's them to be sacred songs. The present number consists of one new Sacred Songs-new, we presume, because Handel never intended of his well-known love songs-" Lasci ti pianga "-from his opera Armida, and has a profane and loving tune, which fits the original words much better than those of the sixth Psalm of David, to which Mr. R. Andrews has stuck them. In the mythologic age a fate of such a sticker, who while he sticks not at trifles-as the row on the Styx in Charon's boat would have been the inevitable

Many things have conspired to embitter the pure enjoyment and interrupt the pure and honest cultivation of the art of music in the present times. The waves of mighty events are penetrating into, and acting upon, every form of social and spiritual life, while the nations are still without a uniting and guiding principle of mental elevation. Stupendous events and recollections have called forth, on the one hand, vehement desires, and a prevalence of violent and suddenly changing impressions; on the other hand its opposites inanition, and a deep longing for peace and quietness. In both directions, the material, as a means of violent excitement, or of soothing the mind into a pleasurable repose, has acquired undue preponderance over the spiritual element of art, and we see repeated a spectacle often witnessed before; that, in such moments when the tension of the German mind and character, in the masses of the people and those who speak to their hearts, suffers relaxa-present sticking demonstrates-is no stickler for the rights of tion, foreign influences, especially the frivolity and ready loquacity of the French, and the enervated sensuality of the Italians, wrest the sceptre from native talent. In respect to music, it is in the opera especially that foreign mediocrity at such times gains its easiest victories, and carries everything before it in its rapid march. For, how many different means are not resorted to, in these productions, to take the hearer by surprise and confound his judgment, so that their worthlessness remains concealed beneath the novelty of their effects! And how can the evil influence thus brought to bear upon the highest and most commanding point, fail to effect, in a similar manner, every other sphere and branch of art?

Are we compelled, on the one hand, to censure the mind-debasing materialism of the foreign opera, whose tendency in our days, is the most irresistible, because we are still accustomed, indeed forced, on account of the more highly developed political and public life of our western neighbours, to look to their country as the balance-wheel of the great European clock; so, on the other hand, we acknowledge that which is positively good in these operas, and which has been too much neglected by our writers and composers for the theatres; viz., dramatic, or at least, scenic, animation, and the progression from mere individual conditions to public and more universally intelligible and interesting relations of life. Only when this positive element shall have been more generally perceived and appreciated by our poets and musicians, amongst all the poverty, lowness, and errors of the foreign opera -then, and not till then, will German art, in all other respects so much more pure and true, be able to triumph over its rivals in the theatre, as certainly and signally as it has done everywhere else.

*The reader will recollect that this was written at the commencement of the late struggles on the continent.-Tr.

neath his adaptation of Handel's profane song to David's sacred
others, or he would not have stuck the word "copyright " under-
has stuck to his text, and gives the words of the inspired Psalmster
words. Mr. R. Andrews, however, has one thing in his favour-he
their integrity, discarding the variations to the latter which of late
and the music of the sublime composer, to use a cant phrase, in
Mr. R. Andrews to cut his stick and sin no more.
years have obtained-but for which we should honestly recommend

"YES! Now I'M FREE; OR, THE SLAVE'S ESCAPE."-Dramatic
Sketch, as sung by Miss E. T. Greenfield (the Black Swan).
Words by J. Stuart D. Morris, Esq. Music by Charles W.
GLOVER. Rudall, Rose, and Carte.

This is a song in E minor-or rather, a song-duet-or rather, a the Duchess of 'Sutherland-or rather, a clap-trap and a catchdramatic sketch, to use the author's nomenclature, dedicated to octave lower by Miss Greenfield-would arrest a she-slave, about penny, in the Henry Russell vein. A slave-owner-sung an excellent swimmers, to catch the ship and bring back the sheto cross the line, and thereupon appeals to his dogs, who must be slave, as also indeed must be the slave-owner-sung an octave lower by Miss Greenfield-who ejaculates to his dogs-the dirty dog

Dogs, hold her fast!

Quick! hold till I come there!
Stop-stop-she's past!

And so it happens; for by the time Mr. Glover has, with some difficulty, crossed the line of the tonic, and boldly settled himself down on the half close of the dominant, the slave is "past" and "free as air," setting the dogs and their master, now no longer hers, at defiance. By a graceful transition, Mr. Glover now passes into the relative major, and the she-slave-sung by Miss Greenfield an octave higher-thanks God for her deliverance. Mr. Glover, however, still unsatisfied, returns to E minor, and the