little doubt of her pleasing us in it on the Opera stage.She seems herself to feel her inefficiency in the orchestra, and deprived of the assistance of action:-we, therefore, regret that Italian scenas have not been given, that are not so familiar to her, and less of a dramatic cast; she would perform them much more to her own satisfaction, and, we doubt not, to that of the public.

"The King shall rejoice," was all heaven till Mr. Jenkinson burst upon us like Zamiel in the Freischütz!- We cannot deny that Handel occasionally introduced these hateful Tym. panums in his Anthems, but then the subject has been triumph and victory!-In the most strikingly harmonious of his religious chorusses, he invariably avoids them,—so do we not at the Ancient Concerts, unhappily.

The music in Macbeth, which opened the second act, was performed in a very feeble, and even slovenly manner, and who can wonder at it?-This witchery seems to haunt the director of the evening more than any other of his noble colleagues, for we have observed that Lord Darnley never passes over the season without it. Would to heaven he would grant us a respite, if only for once! Sacchini's Quartetto would have pleased more had Madame Pasta flourished less'; her shake is by no means perfect, and we would advise her by practice to improve it; this is a beautiful composition, and was, altogether, very sweetly sustained. A pretly old madrigal, (or rather glee, for it does not belong to the madrigalian school) by Henry Lawes, whom Milton has inmortalized, pleased us very much, though there is nothing particularly striking in it; we recognised that pure English style which was afterwards carried to such perfection by Boyce, Arne, Hayes, &c., but which, alas! (so far at least as the public is concerned) has sunk under the weight of the foreign schools,-" never," we fear, "to rise again.”—England is the only nation in Europe that has trod her national music under foot, and if she continue to neglect and degrade it, the very names of the great masters we have mentioned, nay, even of Purcell himself, will in twenty years be forgotten! We think Madame Pasta sang "Deh parlate" rather fast:- her recitative was by far the most striking part of her performance. Luther's hymn, as it is called, should have been sung by Vaughan-for Miss Wilkinson it was a most unfortunate choice-we mean not to disparage the young lady's talents; in tender and solemn airs she is impressive in a great degree, but where every thing, as in the present instance, depends upon force and animation, she is very inadequate to the task. When the chorusses of Handel come before us once during the season, we endeavour to give them a notice that we have not precisely given before; but really when they cross us a second time, we must perforce be silent. "Gird on thy sword" had not, however, been performed before. The first part is magnificent—the winding up in triple time we ever did, aud always shall, think a sad falling off; we were not sorry that it came in at the close.

And now, before we take our leave, we must be permitted to remark upon a circumstance connected with the present concert, which makes us almost entirely despair of any change in the performances, generally, for the better. We were informed by an intelligent friend, a subscriber, a day or two ago, that he attended this last concert, giving up a particular engagement elsewhere, purposely to enjoy a repetition of two pieces that had struck him with no less surprise than gratification at the rehearsal,-viz., the beautiful air from Semele, "O sleep," to which Greatorex had, with a taste and skill never more successfully displayed, added a Violoncello accompaniment for Liudley, and which produced a soothing and delicious effect;—and a chorus of Marcello, beginning “Be thou exalted," prepared for the orchestra by the same excellent musician, of such variety of merit as to make it difficult where to give a preference, but closing with a fugue that Handel himself has rarely ever equalled!"These delightful novelties," sighed my friend, "I went on purpose to hear again,-but, lo! they had been cut out, as heavy and stupid!!

We do not feel ourselves authorized to call in question the fiat of the noble director in this matter; the ancient concert is not exactly a public one, and we are well aware that it can only be enjoyed through the medium of the most respectable

introduction; but this very circumstance should, we humbly conceive, render some little attention to the subscribers' enter tainment the more necessary on the part of the directors; and make them consult their feelings generally, rather than the will and pleasure of a few, because on the level of rank with themselves. We can venture respectfully to assure them, that eight subscribers at least out of ten would equally regret with ourselves the omissions alluded to, and who equally deplore the close of another season without a ray of hope afforded them of change; and who sadly predict that the spring of 1826 will bring with it the same luckless Nannies, the same Shepherds and Canzonet chorusses, that cruellest of all cruel Tyrants, Love, and-finis coronat opus—Mr. Jenkin son's double drums, with, we fear, new Kettles.

PHILHARMONIC CONCERTS.

CLIO.

is a very fine specimen of the genius of this highly-gifted musician, and is appreciated as it deserves by the frequenters of the Philharmonic Concerts. It is just as suggestive or imitative, as the metaphysical writers express themselves-as music is ca pable of being, the dying conclusion particularly, which always affects the audience powerfully. Haydn's symphony, in B flat, the ninth of the set composed for Salomon's Concerts, has never been so popular as most of the twelve, and is therefore something like a novelty when performed. But the true connoisseur discovers in it abundant proofs of genius, and striking beautiesin every movement. What instrumental piece offers a more intelligible and charming melody than the adagio-a more original subject than the minuetto-or a more brilliant motivo than the finale?

Cherubini's Overture to Lodoiska is more scientific than that. to Anacreon, we admit, but it shews less of genius: nevertheless it is a very fine production, and sufficient in itself to establish the reputation of a composer. The Egmont of Beethoven is a sublime work, which we have more than once mentioned in these columns.

Madame Caradori's Aria was worthy of the place: she obtained great applause for her manner of singing it. Her duet, by Rossini, was well executed, but badly chosen. Why perform at a concert a picce that is in constant use at the theatre, where,

having all the advantages of scenic effect, it must be heard in a more perfect manner? The aria, Ave Maria, good as it is, and judiciously as it was sung by Madame Pasta, produced but little sensation. Why was this?-We were amongst those on whom it made no impression. Her Tu ch' accendi was, as usual, quite delightful; but for we seem to be in an interrogative humour-does this style of singing it accord with the author's intention, and will it thus continue to please?

M. La Barre is the best harp-player now in England. He understands the character of his instrument, and brings out of it every good quality that it possesses, without straining it beyond its power, and converting all its sweetness and expression into hardness of twang and jarring noise. The quartetto of Mayseder is a mixture of good and evil; much bad, but prevailing taste, with a little of what will always be admired sprinkled here and there. We have known M. Kiesewetter more successful than in this piece.

Leader, Mr. Mori.-Conductor Mr. Attwood. TH8 merits of Beethoven's symphony in A we have before discussed in this work, and we repeat, that, except the movement from it published in a former number of the Harmonicon, it is a composition in which the author has indulged a great deal of disagreeable eccentricity. Often as we now have heard it performed, we cannot yet discover any design in it, neither can we trace any connexion in its parts. Altogether it seems to have been intended as a kind of enigma-we had almost said a hoax. Mozart's symphony in C, the sixth in the edition of Sperati and Cianchittini, is full of fire, and was written in the vigour of his health and genius. We know none of his instrumental compositions that show such a continued flow of animation as this: its beauties are all of the sparkling kind, and the hearer is as much exhilarated by it, as if he had swallowed copious draughts of champagne.

The Overtures to the Freischütz and the Zauberflüte have been too often eulogized here to require any further mention. The concerto by M. Moscheles was a surprising and most charming performance. The music, and the execution of it, were of the highest character, and equal to each other. The applause he received was great, but by no means unearned. The concertante by Tolou, much in the manner, but not pos sessing a tithe of the genius of Pleyel, was admirably executed, and this is all we can venture to say of it. The directors of these concerts are not now very scrupulous in their choice of pieces; witness the aria by M. Garcia, sung by him. The beau tiful quartett by Rossini was half spoiled by giving the fourth part to Signor De Begnis, for whose voice it is altogether unfit. Madame Caradori sang an aria by Guglielmi most agreeably, and pleased every body by her performance. The composition of this air forms a remarkable contrast to the vocal productions of the present age; its comparative gentleness and tranquillity afford a great relief, and its reception at this concert convinces us that, in a few years, the rage for the "trumpet's loud clangor" will be abated, and a taste for the music of the olden times be revived; or rather that new composers will start up, who will seek to produce the effect of novelty, by imitating that which is nearly forgotten. Madlle. Garcia made, we believe, her first public appearance at this Concert. She has a rich contr' alto voice, and is apparently a good musician; but her manner, like

This performance terminated the season-a season in which there has been much to censure and much to commend. With attention, this Concert may continue, as it has long been, a fine. school of music, a counterbalance to the influence of feverish and fluctuating fashion, and a standard by which the taste of those who really desire to cultivate the art may be regulated. But if the managers of the society are carelessly chosen, and persons are elected to fill the office of directors who are likely to be influenced by their own personal views, then the Philharmonie Concerts will degenerate as they have once or twice threatened to do-the lovers of good music will be left without any resource, and the art will, for a time, be under the guidance of the weakest of that part of the community which has leisure to affect the characters of cognoscenti and patrons.

Nina is by many people considered as the best of Paisiello's serious operas; and some forty years ago, La Pazza per amore (the second title of Nina) was as much raved after by the Pazze per la musica, as Mosè in Egitto has lately been, and as I Crociato in Egitto will shortly be. Nina is full of beauties of the gentle kind; its melodies are original, pure, and delightful, and every note in the opera is appropriate to the words. But it is not adapted to a theatre of large dimensions; composed for the palace of Versailles, it there succeeded, and even now suc ceeds at the Louvois in Paris-a room fitted up as a theatrewhere none of its delicacies are lost in space, and where its mild, unobtrusive merits are perceived, and therefore felt.

The opera certainly did not now please, as it once did, in London, and only so great a favorite as Madame Pasta has been this season, would have gained for it a second audience of any extent as to numbers.

Madame de Begnis took for her benefit the second and third acts of Romeo e Giulietta by Zingarelli, in which, of course, Madame Pasta represented the lover. This drew two enormously full houses; indeed the charming singer and actress, who during a short month deserved and enjoyed so much public favour, proved more useful to the treasury of the theatre than all the other performers put together; for Madame De Begnis had been continually disqualified by illness from appearing, and the chronic cough, rheum, &c. of Sig. Garcia, had frequently incapacitated him from singing. His absence, however, was never felt after the arrival of Signor Curioni.

The return of Madame Pasta to Paris, and the inability of the prima donna to resume her place, have thrown a damp on the performances of the Italian Opera up to the present period. Mademoiselle Garcia was suddenly engaged to fill up the vacancies, and made her first appearance on any stage, on the 7th of June, in the character of Rosina, in Rossini's Barbiere de Siviglia; but though possessing a good contr' alto voice, an ample knowledge of music, and a considerable share of vocal talent, has not assisted the finances of the establishment, by attracting to the theatre those useful persons who pay, though numbers have been drawn together to applaud. Before this present number of our work is published, 7 Crociato in Egitto, the celebrated opera of Meyerbeer, will, in all probability, have been produced, and should Signor Velluti succeed, will doubtless restore the theatre to a flourishing condition, and afford the public the means of hearing one of the finest works that has ever been per formed on the Italian stage.

The argument prefixed to the cpera, by the poet, Signor Rossi, is as follows:

In an expedition on the coast of Egypt, which took place in the Sixth Crusade, in the neighbourhood of Damietta, a band of the Knights of Rhodes, commanded by Esmengarde de Beaumont, was surprised, betrayed, and after a most heroic resistance, overpowered by the superior numbers of the enemy.

Armando d'Orville, a young Knight of Provence, was one of this valiant band. Fainting from loss of blood, he had remained among the slain. He returns to himself; night comes on, and he sees no other means of escaping from the disgrace of slavery, than by concealing himself in the spoils of an Egyptian warrior who had fallen on the field. He hopes, by mingling with the enemy, to discover their plans, and to find a favourable moment for

Egyptian maidens. She sees the supposed Elmireno, and a mutual passion is the consequence. Afar from his country, almost without a hope of ever returning to it again, young, and of an ardent mind, Armando forgets himself, his duties, the faith he had plighted to Felicia, a noble maiden of Provence, and yields to the love of Palmide. He has secretly instructed her in the mysteries of his faith; they are privately united, and the product of this union is a son. But the call of honour, the love of his country, and the sense of his dereliction of duty, are ever present to his mind, and throw a gloom over his happiness. Aladino observes their mutual attachment, and only waits the return of Elminero from a glorious campaign, in order to unite their hands. Meanwhile overtures are made to the Sultan by the Knights of Rhodes, for a purchase and exchange of prisoners: ferms of peace are also offered, and an embassy from them arrives at Damietta.

The action commences at the arrival of this Embassy.

ACT THE FIRST.

The opening scene represents a spacious enclosure in the palace of the Sultan Aladin. To the right is seen the Residence of the European slaves destined to labour at the public works; to the left is part of the Palace and gardens of the Sultan.

The overture is expressive of the following tableau:All is hushed in the silence of night, which is beginning to give place to the dawn. The sound of the morning trumpet of call is heard; a general movement within the residence of the slaves. Keepers come and open the gates; the slaves come forth, who are recognised by their dress, as belonging to different European nations. They salute and embrace each other, and prepare for the labours of the day. The greater part are employed in the construction of a small temple. All is in action. A youth is seen supporting the chains of his aged father; a slave takes a portrait from his bosom, gazes on it affectionately, presses it to his lips, and hastily conceals it again, through fear of being discovered. Another reads a letter, which he kisses and presses to his heart. Other groups are variously employed, while a part give utter

I doni d' Elmireno

ance to the emotions of their hearts in the following chorus:

Patria amata! ob, tu il primiero

De' miei fervidi desiri;
Fra catene, fra sospiri,

A te anela il mesto cor.
Fier destin ci rese schiavi,
Mare immenso ci separa;
Ma tu ognor mi sei più cara,
Tu mi sei presente ognor.
Cari oggetti del mio core!
Più vedervi io non potrò?
Fra i sospir di triste amore
Qui penar, morir dovrò?
Sposa!-figli !-patria !—amici !—
Più vedervi io non potrò?
Da voi lunge moriro?
Cessi omai si acerba vita;

Cangi omai si orribil sorte:
O pietosa tronchi morte
Il mio barbaro dolor!

In scene the second, slaves are seen coming from the palace, bearing baskets full of various presents; shortly after appears Palmide, who is come to pay her morning visit to the slaves, and brings them various presents to comfort and console them; we learn that these gifts are sent by the wish of her lover Elmireno. Rejoiced at the appearance of their benefactress, the European slaves change their notes of sorrow into grateful and more joyous accents t.

Ma già di Palmide gli schiavi avanzano,
La regal vergine a noi già recasi,
Brillante raggio in sua belta.

Consolatrice de' nostri mali,

Benefattrice de' egri mortali,

Vieni, o bell' angela della pieta!

Palmide replies to their grateful salutations in the following cavatina ‡ :—

Beloved country, oh, thou first,

Fond object of my fervent vows; Amidst our chains, our bitter sighs, To thee the sorrowing heart aspires. Fell destiny has made us slaves,

Between us boundless oceans roll,

But distance makes thee doubly dear, And paints thee present to my thoughts. Beloved objects of my heart!

And shall I ne'er behold you more?
Amidst the sighs of love forlorn,
Here must I ever pine and die?
Wife!—children !—country !—friends !—
And shall I never see ye more?
And must I die from you afar?
Soon may a life so wretched close;
Soon may a fate so horrid change:
And ah! may death in pity come
To free me from such bitter woes.

† But see Palmida's slaves advance,
The royal virgin hither comes,
A star in beauty's lustre bright.
Consoler of our bitter ills,

Thou benefactress in our needs,
Angel of pity, come this way!
With gifts from Elmireno sent
I here present you, friends;

With him for the unhappy still How fondly do I sympathize!

(E'en now perhaps is love

Whispering fond thoughts of me.)

Oh

lo vi presento, amici;
Con lui per gli infelici
Divido la pieta!

(Or per me forse in seno
Amor gli parlera.)

(Soave immagine di quel momento,
A te sorridere il cor io sento!
Accenti e palpiti, sospiri e giubilo,
L'amor piu tenero confonderà !)

Scarcely have these accents of tenderness died away, when guards from the palace announce the approach of Aladin and his vizier Osmin. The Sultan announces to his daughter, that he has just received the news of the arrival of Elmireno, who has returned triumphant over the enemies of his kingdom; he commands a triumph to be prepared for the conqueror, and requests Palmide to present him with the laurel crown, convinced that from her hand it will prove doubly acceptable. Palmide is all confusion and joy at the words of her father, while Osmin is scarcely able to restrain his rage. The ambitious vizier is secretly aiming at the throne, and has aspired to the hand of Palmide. At this moment, trumpets in different directions are heard. A signal from the tower of the port announces the arrival of a vessel in the bay; at the same moment the banner of the Knights of Rhodes is recognised, and the Sultan makes known that the valiant warriors of Rhodes are come to sue for peace and friendship. The other signal announces, at the same moment, the arrival of the conqueror Elmireno. Palmide and Aladino express their mutual joy at this event in the following duet, and their sentiments are reiterated by the chorus §.

Concenti bellici all' aure echeggino,
L'ero e festeggino, il vincitor;

E a'suon belligeri s'alternin teneri
Di pace i cantici, gli inni d'amor.

Aladin, in a transport of joy, declares that on so propitious a day all the wishes of his heart shall be fulfilled. "Thine too, oh daughter, he exclaims, shall be accomplished. Long have I observed the affection that thou hast cherished for Elmireno; nay, blush not, I rejoice at it, and had already planned thy happy union on the return of the victor; yes, the brave man who formerly saved my life, shall be thine." Alas! what an announcement is this to Palmide; what a dreadful veil is rent

before her eyes. For five years has she been secretly united to Elmireno, and a son is the fruit of this union.Aladin bids her go, and announce in person the joyful news to Elmireno. She retires in distraction. Aladin congratulates Osmin on the happy event, and bids him prepare the royal galley for the landing of the victor, and make all the due preparations at the palace, for the reception of the knights who compose the embassy from Rhodes.

The following scene brings us to a retired spot in the gardens of the Sultan, contiguous to the apartments of Palmide, where her son Mirva is discovered asleep on a Alma, the confidante of Palmide, bank of flowers. be near may guards the child in this retired spot, that he his mother; she also obviates any suspicion that might arise, Palmide enters all agiby giving out that it is her son. tation from the interview with her father, and, in the agony of her heart, reveals to Alma that she has renounced the faith of her father and embraced the religion of Elmireno. At this moment the sound of trumpets anAlma exhorts her conqueror. nounces the landing of the friend to take courage, and not ruin all by betraying herself.

The scene now changes to the Port of Damietta; the people are seen hastening to the landing of the royal vessel which is pompously adorned. A chorus of great beauty and effect, intermingled with gay dances, hails its approach to the strand*.

Coro alternato cole' danza.

Vedi il legno, che in vaga sembianza Mollemente sul Nilo s'avanza;

Ci porta la pace.

Spira un'aura leggiera, soave,

E' l'aura di pace.

L'onda mormora placida e cheta, Lieta bacia, accarrezza la nave Che porte la pace.

Il vascello approda.

Di nostre palme all'ombra amica,
Quì, sulla sponda del Nilo aprica,
Dolce catena di mirti e or,
Nave propizia! t' arresti ognor.
Mai t' allontana da' nostri lidi,

Tu che a noi guidi la bella pace,
Voto verace dei nostri cor.
Echeggi d'intorno di pace l' accento,
Di gioja concento festeggi tal dì,
E lieta la sponda risponda così.

* Chorus, atternately with Dances. Behold the vessel which in stately pomp Glides softly on the bosom of the Nile;

She brings us peace,

A sweet and gentle zephyr breathes around, It is the breath of peace.

The wavelets break in stilly murmurs round, Caressing joyfully the happy bark

That brings us peace.

The Vessel reaches the Strand. Beneath the friendly shadow of our palms Here on the banks of sunny Nile, May bands of myrtle and of flowers, Propitious vessel! stay thy course. Ne'er mayst thou quit our shores again,

Thou that fair peace has guided hither, The object of our hearts' warm sighs. Let the voice of peace be heard around, Let songs of joy salute the day,

And echoing shores repeat the strain.

ARIA.

Cara mano dell' amore
Io ti bacio, e son felice;
Se mercè sperar mi lice,
Io la spero dall' amor.

CORO, coll danza.
Fortunato vincitore!

Godi il premio del valore;
Porge allori a te la gloria,
Mirti e rose ti offre Amor.
ARMANDO.

Regna all ombra degl' allori,
E de' figli tuoi nel core;
A te sacro è il mio valore,
Di mia fede il bel candore.
CORO, come sopra.
Fortunato vincitore!

ARMANDO.

Ah! non v'è, non v'è trionfo
Al mio cor piu lusinghiero,
D'un ardor così sincero,
Del sorriso dell' amore.

CORO.

Fortunato vincitore !

The scene now changes and introduces us to a retired spot on the shores of the Nile, where the Knights of Rhodes reside. Near this there is a temple, from which Adrian, the grand master, is seen to come forth, dressed in the habit of a simple knight. He wishes to pass unobserved, in order, if possible, to discover tidings of the fate of his favourite nephew Armando, whom he believes

*I kiss thee, thou dear hand of love!

I kiss thee, and my joy is full;
If I may hope a recompense,
I hope it all from love alone.

CHORUS, with dance.

Thrice happy conqueror!

Enjoy proud valour's noble meed;
Glory presents her laurel wreath,
And love his rose and myrtle crown.
ARMANDO.

Beneath the laurel's shade may he

And in thy sons' brave bosoms reign;
Devoted is to thee this arm,
And the pure feelings of this heart.

CHORUS, as before.
Thrice happy conqueror !