choirs, was performed in St. Peter's, by more than two hundred singers, arranged in circles within the dome, the sixth occupying the summit of the cupola. The organ only was employed. Lulli's Te Deum, composed for the recovery of Louis XIV., in 1686, (by beating the time to which he lost his life from a mortification,) was afterwards performed at Paris, on the recovery of his eldest son, by three hundred musicians.

In 1723, most of the great musicians of Europe being assembled at Prague, to celebrate the coronation of the Emperor, Charles VI., as king of Bohemia, an opera, composed by Fux, was performed in the open air, by a hundred voices, and two hundred instruments; all the principal singers were of the first class. Burney's German Tour, Vol. ii. p. 177.

At the funeral of Rameau, at Paris, in 1767, a solemn service was performed by the united bands of that city: and at that of Jomelli, at Naples, in 1774, three hundred musicians attended, and contributed to the expenses.

The Musical Institution, at Vienna, similar to our Musical Fund, was formed about 1773, and executes Oratorios twice a year, in Advent and Lent, with a band of near four hundred vocal and instrumental performers, the profits of which are about 500l. each time.

The Creation was performed to an audience of 1500 persons, by one hundred and sixty musicians, at Vienna, in 1805, in honour of the author, who was present until the end of the first part; when, overcome with age and emotion, he retired, and bade adieu for ever to music and the world. There was also a performance in honour of Haydn, at Vienna, about the year 1911, of which some account was given in the newspapers of the day, stating, that the band consisted of from seven to eight hundred musicians. Of this remarkable assemblage, which is the only one that rivals the Abbey meetings, no details have fallen in our way, but the fact has been confirmed to the writer, whilst this sheet was in the press, by the kind communication of the present Empress of Italian song. : Bands of two hundred, or more, musicians, are not very uncommon in Italy and Germany; but nothing equal to the last Abbey Festival is to be found in the continental annals. An entertainment of a peculiar nature, though only consisting of one hundred and twenty performers, given to the Emperor Joseph II., in the Rezzonico palace, at Venice, deserves notice, however, on account of its singularity. It comprised all the girls in the four conservatorios, under the direction of Bertoni, uniformly and elegantly dressed. Every kind of instrument, and every species of voice, including double basses, wind instruments, vocal tenors, and basses, were supplied by young female hands and female throats on this remarkable

occasion.*

ON MUSICAL EDUCATION.

[From the French of M. GRETRY.]

THERE is no truth that should be more frequently, and certainly no one that can be more profitably, repeated to the student than this:-"That it is by observing and following nature, that the imitative arts are brought to perfection." It must, however, be at the same time remem

* In our next a review of Mr. Crosse's Work will appear.

bered, that all the modes of following nature are not equally good. Every passion, every character, has a variety of features; and, according to the subject treated, and the situation presented, there is always one which will claim the preference over the rest. Hence the danger of imitating even a good production, if that production be itself but an imitation; this copy of a copy cannot but feebly reflect the lively sentiment with which the man of genius was animated. In a word, if in his productions the artist imitate only the works of man, his labours will perish, whereas the nearer he approximates nature, which is imperishable, the nearer he approaches immortality.

There is nothing that would tend more to the hap piness of my declining days, than to be able to point out to the young artist the path he ought to follow; to inspire him with a confidence of being able to attain the object in view; to awaken in his breast a spirit of emulation which no checks, no discouragements, can cool. Whatever the road he had marked out for himself, whatever the peculiar bent of his genius, I should wish to encourage him in the race, by pointing out the prize that awaits him at the goal. In a word, I should wish to convince him of this important truth, that his talent must be directed to some particular branch of excellence, to which he should limit his ambition, for that, of all delusions, the most fatal is the presumption of being able to attain to universal perfection.

But, it may be urged, is it not according to the more or less active nature of his being, according as his orga→ nization is more or less favourable to the science which forms the object of his pursuit ; is it not after having called all his faculties into activity, and tried every kind of excellence, that the young artist succeeds in selecting that which is best adapted to him? In some respects this is true. Such is the course which many have followed in reaching the term of their studies; but it is not the best. It requires a mass of dispositions, which do not fall to the lot of all the aspirants to excellence, to enable them to surmount the dangers by which this method is attended. We may rest assured, that many talents which would have attained perfection, have been destroyed in the very bud of their promise, from an ignorance of the means of giving them a due direction, and of forming them according to models of acknowledged excellence. It will not be denied, Ist, That a young man is often thrown, almost at hazard, into the hands of an ignorant master, who has no pretension either to taste or discernment; and that, unfortunately, whatever this master does, whatever he esteems, admires, and prefers, will, in this pupil's regard, become the model of perfection to which he will aspire. Is it not melancholy to see that, in such a case, every step he takes towards the point of imaginary perfection, is but an aberration from the right line! 2ndly, That the pupil, ere yet scarcely initiated into the science, may fall into the hands of some pedant, who by dint of checking the sallies of genius, and of moulding nature, as he terms it, may render both the one and the other contemptible. 3rdly, That he may fall into the hands of some coterie, some knot of partizans of a particular species of bad taste, who recognise nothing as good beyond their little contracted sphere of excellence. 4thly, That if he frequent the society of the amateurs of noisy music, of the grand effects of harmony, of a curious complication of chords, he will be persuaded into the belief that this is the only course he ought to adopt. 5thly, That if circum

stances should throw him in the way of church music, either in Germany or Italy, where he will hear little else than fugues, learned counterpoint and figured song, it is much to be feared that the happiest disposition for painting the passions, for creating felicitous melodies, would remain smothered beneath these scientific masses. 6thly, That if he should labour for the theatre, and it should fall to his lot to try his talents on some meagre and ill-digested subject, which affords no exercise for the imagination, he will believe himself destitute of talent. 7thly, That, if after having composed good music to an unsuccessful poem his music should be treated with neglect, he will think that he has deceived himself, and wish to change a manner that is good, for one which is inferior.

When the pupil has been sufficiently instructed in the principles of the art, a good master will choose the favourable moment for reasoning with him upon the grounds and nature of the art itself, in order to determine him in the choice of what is excellent; he will demonstrate to him what is the excellent of all times and places, in opposition to that which depends upon fashion, or is upheld by the mania of particular times and particular men. Nothing will tend more effectually to determine the pupil's mind, and convince him of the certainty of a real standard, in opposition to that which is uncertain and the product of circumstances, than an examination of the method pursued by those masters who have obtained celebrity, and a consideration of the reasons why such a style and character of music has constantly maintained its ground, while others have suddenly sunk into oblivion, or insensibly fallen into neglect, after enjoying their hour of celebrity.

Convinced of the truth of such observations, the pupil would be prompted thus to reason with himself: "Yes, I now begin to see which is the true road to excellence; by following it, I shall, according to the means with which nature has endowed me, approach nearer to perfection, and shall no longer run the risk of being led astray by that which has only the semblance of truth. If I have talent, I may hope to obtain that reputation which will not perish with the fleeting breath of popular applause; and without aspiring to perfection, I may reasonably hope to have made some advances in the path of excellence, and leave behind me some memorials of industrious and not ill-directed study, by which those who succeed me may possibly profit."

There are two roads which conduct to celebrity in the arts and sciences, that of theory and that of practice. Theory is science, is speculation pursued as nearly as possible to mathematical exactitude, from which results a code of laws. Practice consists in the employment of these rules, modified so as to produce the most pleasing effect, and brought into action by being applied to some determinate object which the artist wishes to describe. In all cases, it is doubtless necessary to possess more or less of the theory of an art, before proceeding to the practice of it; but we may also devote ourselves exclusively to theory, and become learned, without ever reducing the elementary rules to practice, without ever employing them to the end for which they were made.

But let us consider, whether by dedicating too much time to the theory of the arts, particularly those which administer to our pleasures, we may not estrange ourselves from the very object which these arts have in view. If in our days too great an ambition has been shewn to

appear learned, if a curious complication of harmony has been too studiously sought, to the detriment of genuine melody, it is surely time to return to that noble simplicity which is the very soul of art; it is surely time to change our system, by consulting our feelings, which reproach us with having run into excess. Yes, let the youthful votary of the art be persuaded of this important truth-that the more we affect learning, the more we shall depart from the true, the touching, and the beautiful. I do not fear to assert, that the smallest original air is preferable to the most ingenious and scientific complication of harmony. The author of a beautiful air has done something for our enjoyment; the author of a series of calculated harmonies has surprised us, has led us into a labyrinth, from which are generally anxious to extricate ourselves as quickly as possible. The real amateur, the true musician, will ever hold it as a principle, that it is only those who are strangers to the soul of melody, that will show. an exclusive preference for the laborious system of harmony. No; harmony is but a beautiful problem, of which song is the solution.

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One of the first objects, therefore, of a good master, will be to teach his pupil to construct melodial phrases, and to unite them with grace. He does this from a conviction, that the art of constructing captivating melodies is the art par excellence. The very reverse of this is the method usually pursued by masters of composition, who begin by giving a bass, upon which they make the pupils construct a melody. But it will be found, that the result of such a method is not a melody properly so called; it is the product of a bass, and, according to the best masters, the song is good if it proceeds in a contrary movement to the bass, if consecutive fifths, double octaves, and the intervals termed irregular be avoided, &c. Why then give the pupil a bass, which can only produce a formal melody, an artificial production, a mechanical song, in which sentiment is out of the question? No, a good master will pursue the very opposite method to this: he will teach the pupil to compose a melody, in which taste and feeling have a share, and which will assuredly be susceptible of a bass; he will be cautious not to impede the free march of feeling; he will habituate the pupil to the creation of easy and pleasing melodies; he will teach him to regard the bass, the harmony of accompaniments-in a word, the scholastic part-in the light in which they ought to be considered, namely, as the support of the melody, as the pedestal of the statue. What, indeed, can be more ridiculous, than to occupy the pupil's time in the erection of pedestals, without ever speaking of the statues?

But it may be said, if the pupil has genius, he will afterwards naturally proceed to the production of sentimental melody. I would answer, no; he will not do so, unless urged by the force of nature herself. And why should not the system of education have been sedulous from the very beginning, to follow the course which nature herself spontaneously suggests? Our system of education chains down the pupil to the mechanical branch of the art, at the very time he ought to be exercising his talents upon that which is essential; I call it the essential part, because it is thence that all our pleasures result. Having first of all fixed the ideas respecting melody, I am aware, that in order to form a finished composer, a painter of the passions, recourse must necessarily be had to the study of counter-point;

IN a science of such universal interest as music, which is the object of discussion, not only of the musician, but of the mathematician and the natural philosopher, it is remarkable what a discordance of opinion there exists with regard to those sounds called harmonics, and even with regard to the oscillations of sonorous chords. The following interesting theorem removes all obscurity from these subjects.

If any two sonorous chords, A and B, be so placed, as that the oscillations of one shall cause the air to act upon the other, as in all stringed musical instruments, and if A oscillates m times, while B oscillates n times, m and a being any whole numbers prime to each other; then, if either of these chords, as A, is put in motion, the action of the air will divide B into m equal parts, each of which will oscillate n times, while A oscillates only once.

This theorem is the base of the theory of harmonics. It was deduced from a property demonstrated by Lagrange, in Sect. 6. Mec. Analytique, that a vibrating chord is susceptible of being divided into any number of equal parts, each of which would vibrate as if isolated. It affords a refutation of (what geometers seemed not absolutely to doubt) the assertion of Rameau, that every fundamental note in music is accompanied with its octave, twelfth, and seventeenth. It proves that, whether a sonorous homogeneous chord of uniform solidity has one, two, or three species of vibrations, these oscillations being necessarily performed in equal times, it cannot produce but one single

note at a time.

It is remarkable, that while the illus trious geometer just named had the proof of the fallacy of the received theory of harmonics before him, he was framing an hypothesis to account for its truth.

*Vol. XV., No. 30, July 1823, p. 374.

Trieste, March, 1825.

THE celebrated opera, Il Crociato in Egitto, is rapidly making the tour of Europe. This composition has been the means of raising M. Meyerbeer into a reputation scarcely less sudden than that procured for M. v. Weber by Der Freischütz. After having been brought forward in most of the principal theatres of Italy, it has within the last two months been produced here, with a splendour hitherto unknown to the theatre of this place, and received, with an enthusiasm almost unprecedented, even in this land of vivacious feeling.

The opera had been for some time expected; it was known that more than usual attention had been bestowed, in order to enable it to be brought forward with all the perfection possible; that the zeal of all parties, united to that of the composer himself, who had paid a visit to Trieste, expressly with a view to superintend its production, was unremitting; that there had been no less than thirteen full rehearsals, and as many separate ones of the chorusses. Expectation and impatience were therefore on the tiptoe, and its appearance was at length crowned with unanimous and tumultuous applause. I shall not easily forget the enthusiasm which this moment produced, an enthusiasm which a calmer review of the merits of the piece has fully justified. For myself, I frankly acknowledge that of all the operas I ever heard, the music of It Crociato has touched me most, as well by the novelty of its motivos, as by the sweetness of its melodies, and the grandeur and lofty character of its accompaniments.

As I am of opinion that Der Freischütz is the first of modern German music, so is Il Crociato the first of the modern Italian: or rather I would correct myself and say, that of all living composers, Meyerbeer is the one who most happily combines the easy, flowing, and expressive melodies of Italy, with the severer beauties, the grander accompaniments, of the German school; to which I would add, that he unites the still greater merit of painting the various feelings of the heart with perfect truth, and of carefully adapting his orchestral effects to the character of the melody which they are made to illustrate and enforce.

The means of the theatre here are but limited, and the liberality of the management has not always been a subject of praise; yet on the present occasion, the facilities found for the production of the Crociato astonished every one, and the efforts made seem to have surprised even the artists themselves; they could have arisen only from that enthusiasm which can supply many wants, and make up for many deficiencies.

The journals of this part of the world are full of rapture; they declare that both singers and orchestra rivalled each other in their exertions, and entered entirely into the soul and spirit of the great composer, who happily for them had been present at all the rehearsals to direct their energies, so that the minutest beauties of the piece were brought fully into view. The management is said to have spared no expense, no sacrifice, in order to produce it with a splendour deserving of the composition.

To complete all, the poet Rossi, the author of the poem, was at Trieste, and by actively co-operating with