1702. TO THE REV. WILLIAM MASON. Jan. 24, 1778. I RECEIVED your Act late last night, and though I have run through it but once, I am impatient not only to pardon you, but thank you. I can forgive you anything but idleness; and music, which your words always are, has charms to soothe even me. The language is so harmonious, that I think as I did of Dryden's Ode, that it will be more melodious unset than when adapted. Yet if you can rival Dryden, Giardini cannot paragon Handel. I am, I know, a most poor judge of musical composition, yet may not I ask if Giardini possesses either force or simplicity? Your Act is classic Athenian: shall it be subdi-di-di-vi-vi-vi-ded into modern Italian? but it is too late to ask that question. I shall now mention a very few criticisms. The language is so sweet, that my soul that loves chiaro scuro as a contrast, at least wants a little more sombre, and the place I would allot for it is Sappho's speech after the vision. The parts of Metastasio (I do not compare you down to him) that please me it will suit his purpose. As to yourself, you know enough of the Lady's story fully to comprehend the drift of these pages which contain her catastrophe. But I know you rather want to know why I have undertaken to write an Opera, than how I have written it. But this is a long story, and relates to a little shoemaker of Aston. Mr. Stonhewer will tell you the particulars, and how my little shoemaker and this Opera become so intimately united. Now don't talk to me about the author of' Caractacus,' and that he ought to write nothing but what is equal, if not superior to 'Caractacus.' If you prevent me from writing Operas, I'll write nothing but ballads. "Agreed, if they be political ones, as many as you please," and don't say that a grave divine turned of fifty, debases his cloth, by telling a love story. Leave that argument for the Bishops to handle. I have made up my conscience as to that matter. Besides, if the Bishops condemn me on this head, they will nevertheless admire my learning, for all the fragments of Sappho will be translated and find their place in this drama : for instance, this third act opens with one of the Δέδυκε μὲν ἃ σελάνα καὶ Πληΐαδες, &ε. Upon the whole then I recommend this poor innocent thing to your mercy as a critic, not as if it had my last hand and its last polish, yet in such a state as will admit of little improvement except in particular lines and words. About this latter I mean to be peculiarly careful, in order to make the language as soft, and consequently as fit for music as possible; for I am persuaded this matter has never yet been sufficiently attended to by the few of our poets who have written professedly for music. Pray put up the letter to Giardini, &c., in the packet before you seal it.—I shrewdly suspect some dark practice in this death of Lord Pigot; pray tell me what you hear of that matter, and of all others, for now the political as well as natural frost is thawed, dear Sir, Yours most truly, W. MASON. most are his long soliloquies of accompanied recitative in last acts; they give scope to the poet, the passions, the actress, and the composer. I would not have Sappho determine at once, but struggle with love, fear, hope, despair; and when she doubts obeying the god, thunder may mark his anger, and decide her; for she obeys a dream too suddenly, though classic times may justify her more than a modern would be justified. As you are sublime in choruses, why have you only one in an Opera,-in a Greek opera? They are simple, and yet give variety; sure a hymeneal chorus is necessary. I have an objection, which is odd, even to the parts I have not seen, but you hint (by Sappho in her female dress) at her being disguised as a man in a former Act. Will not that be a little too characteristic, and give a handle to buffoonery in the learned part of the mob? I have few verbal criticisms to make, though I could commend a thousand passages, particularly the two lines on Alpheus, and the exquisite first air. I am not quite pleased with down, down, down, as a little too artificial, and then down should not come in the very next line, and in a sense that is the very opposite to the former sense, and shows we express a precipitate fall and the softness of repose by the same sound. I do not quite approve so forced an expression as downcast tenderness, and I cavil at I feel that full, that heartfelt tenderness and would rather change heartfelt, which has a German sound. In the second line felt is most sonorous. I have literally but one more qualm. When Sappho dedicates her lyre, she says it is far sweeter than the harp. This methinks is too nice a distinction for a person in her situation to make, and fitter for a commentator's note than a woman on the point of destroying herself. Yes, I see another, that I have just cast my eyes on: Sappho must not utter the word requiem; in short, Metastasio may use such an anachronism, but Musæus must not, shall not. I shall send the Act and the letter to Giardini, as you order, though with regret I own: for I doubt his music will not have that majestic greatness and distinctiveness that are necessary to let the words be understood. Add that our singers want more to be taught to articulate than to sing. All the women jabber; and bad as his taste was, Beard did more justice to sense than any of our performers; for though he laid a stress on every syllable, yet at least the audience, such as were capable, could suppose the right accents. In short, I wish your Opera could be accompanied only by the lyre and the tibia. There is no new event. The Parliament has done little or nothing, as they wait for Lord George to lead up the Blues. I have no time for details, and, in truth, I am thinking more of 'Sappho' than of the nation, and am happy when I can amuse myself with reading anything but politics, which I am sure nobody will ever read after the day they are published; but indeed who does write what is readable? I have got two more volumes of Shenstone's Correspondence,' and they are like all the rest, insipidity itself. Home's' Alfred' died three days old; 'The Battle of Hastings' [by Cumberland] is to appear this evening; the child of as feeble a parent. Garrick has been reading plays at Althorp à la Texier, and been adored as usual; yet I do not believe he succeeded half so well in the women. He goes on writing his wretched epilogues too, for he cannot sit down with the strulbruggism that he had the sense to take up. There is a Mr. Potter too, I don't know who, that has published a translation of Eschylus, and as far as I have looked is a good poet. I am sure he has taste, for in his preface he speaks like an initiate of Elfrida' and 'Caractacus.' I am delighted with 'Prometheus,' though I do not approve of a mad cow for first woman. 1703. TO THE REV. WILLIAM MASON. Arlington Street, Feb. 4, 1778. I SHALL be sorry if you depend on me for your winter provision of news; I know so little, and the papers so much, that I could only repeat their information with not half their eloquence. All last week I was confined with a great cold which I thought it impossible for me to catch, not having had a genuine one these five or six years; I mean, not more than what I call a cold when I want an excuse for not doing what I have not a mind to do; I was blooded in spite of the gout's teeth, and yet am well again. I hear you have finished a third book of the Garden;' thank the Muses you seldom do anything when you have nothing to do. It seems I am to learn your deeds from second and third hands. As I suppose you care more about authors than politicians, I shall begin with the former. The Battle of Hastings,'-or rather one side of it, for not a Norman appears, has been acted. I have not seen it; the accounts are a little like a charade, for they say, the first part makes one cry, the latter laugh, and the whole sleep. It will soon be gathered in due chronologic order to its predecessor 'Alfred.' I forgot till I had filled my sheet to answer your question about Lord Pigot, and then it was not worth while to tap a new page, as the account was contradicted. It is now confirmed. I know no more than you see in the newspapers, and thence you will collect that there has been more than meets the ear. The enigma of the day, as he has oft been, is Lord Chatham. He has quarrelled with General Rockingham on the question of independence, and in a manner declared off; yet he is expected today in the House of Lords to anathematise the new levies. There is much talk too of his coming into place, which I doubt; everybody must have discovered that his crutch is no magic wand, and if the lame leads the blind it is not the way of shunning a ditch. Charles Fox has tumbled old Saturn from the throne of oratory, and if he has not all the dazzling lustre, has much more of the solid materials. They say nothing ever excelled his oration against the unfortunate Minister [North], who was truly unfortunate that day, for had Lord George [Germaine] been present, the thunder had fallen on him. Charles's speech on Monday was as marvellous for method and memory, and was really unanswerable, for not one of the Ministers knew what to say, and so said nothing, and that silence cost them many votes. In short, the minority amounted to above an hundred and sixty, in which were several Tories. It is supposed the inquiries will be put to a violent death, which will be very weak, for the people are contented with whatever is discussed and voted, but grow impatient when their ears are stopped by force. The new levies are like Glendower's: he can stamp and call spirits from the vasty deep; but they don't come, consequently they will not go. I fancy the American war is pretty near an endI mean as to attempting more than keeping what remains. I don't think there will be a French war yet, unless we chance to go together by the ears at sea. However, it hangs by a thread. Having now given you the quintessence of my intelligence, you see it would not have made one more letter than it does. I shall reserve a vacuum for what may pass to-day in the Lords; but Chance I have very rarely known a much-expected debate answer. is as much mistress of Orators as of Generals; and the prepared engagements of both frequently turn out like Sir W. Howe's two surveys of Washington's army. 5th. Lord Chatham did not appear: they say, he has the gout, but I suppose not so bad but he could hobble to the end of the Park [the Queen's House] if he was much intreated. I have heard of nothing particular that passed in either House, but have seen nobody that was in either; in good truth I am little curious about debates. The ruin has gone a great deal too far to make Parliament of any consequence; speakers may amuse themselves with filling up the interstices of events, but when a house is falling, does one care who painted the staircase? Yes, Lord Chatham does. Because he once raised the building a story higher, he thinks he could do as much when the foundations have given way. Adieu! I long to see your Garden.' I am forced to read the newspapers, or my eyes would starve, yet it is feeding them with offals.' TO THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE. Aston, Feb. 6, 1778. I KNOW thee, and the wickedness of thy heart! You would have my Opera turned into a Tragedy. I know the speech of Sappho would be much better if turned as you would have it. But if three drops of cold water which had never been mixed with the unchaste wave of Alphæus is not a sufficient cure for the most outrageous love that ever was, there is no faith in mythology; all the rest of your criticism I submit to, and kiss the rod : I even will expunge the line about the harp, though it is a verbatim translation of a fragment of Sappho. As to Giardini, look you, if I did not think better of him than I do of Handel, my little shoemaker would not have had the benefit he will have (I hope) from this labour of my brain. Let Handel's music vibrate on the tough drum of royal ears; I am for none of it. However, as I am now fully employed in writing a Fast Sermon for York Minster, music and operas must be lain by for a season. I hope, however, you have sent the Act to Giardini, otherwise he will think I have cheated him. Will you be at 'Elfrida' on Saturday night, and will you clap like a dragon? I have taken more pains in fitting it for the stage, than I did about Caractacus.' On Wednesday I go to York; pray remember to direct to York, to yours I AM much obliged to you for your letter received to-day. Your news about the 'English Garden' has been told you as imperfectly as that of the Opera. It is far from finished, and not even fit for anybody's inspection at present; when it is, you shall hear more from me. I now write to tell you a story which I think I have told you before, but which the debate which I read in the papers about Lord Abingdon's motion, makes me think ought to be more public. In 1745, when the rebels were at Derby, and subscriptions were going on in London, a certain (then) Barrister at 2 Lord Mansfield.-CUNNINGHAM. |