Chapter VI: Part THE FIRST: Essays, Criticisms, and Miscellanies (6)

The gentle and sweet aria, ‘Piangero,’ though from the same opera, is not connected with the recitative, but was generally sung after it in the concerts. There is a second movement to this, which, however suited to the character to whom it is given in the drama, is not in unison with the music of the first part, nor does it follow well such a recitative, therefore was seldom performed, except on the stage; and we have omitted it altogether.

* * * * *

The arietta of ~Keiser~ is from a German opera, (which, however, has also an Italian title, _La forza della Virtù_,) published at Hamburg in 1701. This work, now lying before us, is uncommonly rare; we never saw or heard of another copy, in England at least. A treble and base only are printed, the latter sometimes figured, the former in the soprano clef, and being in the old German type, is not very easily decyphered. The merit of this air hardly admits of dispute, and, like all that is really good in art, has suffered nothing from the lapse of time. A remarkable circumstance connected with it is, that Handel, past all doubt, either intentionally or inadvertently,--most likely the former,--imitated it in his minuet in the overture to _Samson_. Whoever compares the two must see that the resemblance could not have arisen from one of those coincidences which are sometimes accidental.

Keiser, born at Weissenfels, in Saxony, about the year 1673, was the most distinguished composer of opera of his day; but how few, even of musicians, have ever heard his name pronounced! Burney says of him[24], ‘His compositions are more voluminous than those of old Scarlatti (Alessandro), and his melodies, though more than fifty years old, [_i.e._ in 1772] are such as would now be thought modern and graceful.’ Hasse assured Dr. Burney that Keiser was, ‘according to his conceptions, one of the greatest musicians the world ever saw[25].’

The words we have adapted to this air are from Ellis’s _Specimens of the early English Poets_. The accompaniment is given as faithfully as two bare lines of treble and base would allow, the latter being furnished by two figures (sixths) only.

* * * * *

The lovely song by Dr. Arne was composed in 1769, for Shakspeare’s Jubilee at Stratford-on-Avon. Garrick wrote the words, which, it must be confessed, are not so perfect as the music set to them. Lovely as is this air, we suspect that but few in the present day know of its existence. It has never before, we believe, appeared with a distinct accompaniment; and our copy of the song carries signs of having been published more than half a century ago.

* * * * *

Of Mr. Horncastle’s glee, composed purposely for this work, we will only say, that we have deemed it worthy of being associated with the music of this Number; and that if it had not been set in a light and simple manner, the composer would not have expressed the words in their true spirit.

[Sidenote: ~March~, 1833.]

MEMOIR OF C. F. ZELTER.

The name of the subject of the present memoir, though celebrated in Germany, particularly in Prussia and the Northern States, is almost wholly unknown in this country. It was first heard of in England, in consequence of the visits of M. Mendelssohn Bartholdy, whose brilliant genius and rapidly rising fame, naturally led to an inquiry respecting the school in which he was brought up; when it appeared that he owed his musical knowledge to M. Zelter. The renown of the disciple was reflected on the master, and we became anxious to obtain a sight of some of his compositions; when, after a long and diligent search, we were fortunate enough to meet with a MS. (unpublished) scena by him, which at once announced the great ability of the author, the aria whereof, adapted from the original score, will be found in our present number.

Gerber, in his biographical lexicon, gives a lengthened memoir of M. Zelter, to which we are indebted for the following account; though we have discarded much which, if not savouring of prolixity, would at least prove uninteresting to English readers. M. Zelter was what here is frequently denominated an architect, though he modestly called himself a master-builder. He was during the greater part of his life a dilettante; but when he accepted an office, he certainly became a professor.

* * * * *

~Carl Friedrich Zelter~ was born at Berlin, in 1758. His father, a Saxon, had him instructed during his childhood and youth in various elegant, as well as useful, acquirements. Engaged in the cultivation of his mind, for which purpose he attended the Joachimsthal College, he had already attained his seventeenth year, when he was articled to his father’s business, that of a builder. Hitherto he had not shown much inclination for music, and had manifested but little attention to the instruction he received on the piano-forte and organ, from a Berlin organist.

After a tedious and painful illness by which he was attacked in his eighteenth year, an extraordinary passion for music all at once sprung up in him. But as at this period nearly the whole of his time was devoted to his professional pursuits, the evening alone was left to him to satisfy his thirst for harmony. Thus whole nights were frequently spent in copying music, and in practising the violin and piano-forte. This enjoyment, however, was but of short duration, for his instructor in the latter instrument could no longer attend him; and, fearing that such constant and unwearied application might injure his health, his father endeavoured to check his voluntary studies. But this did not stop his progress, for as he was now deprived of his instruments, he began to compose, for which purpose only pen, ink and paper were necessary. He had no rules, and being governed only by his fancy, his deficiency in the knowledge of composition was constantly manifesting itself, and having no acquaintance with scientific musicians, he had no means of gaining information through the medium of conversation; he, therefore, procured some scores of Emanuel Bach and Hasse, the study of which showed him the importance of order and unity in composition, and taught him how to preserve a constant flow of melody in the middle parts.

Now, however, his health actually began to sink under his exertions, and the many privations to which his earnest application subjected him. His thoughts were exclusively devoted to the art by which he was enamoured, and all else was neglected. His business was neglected for it, and his health ruined. His father again remonstrated, and the young enthusiast renewed his promises of obedience; he for some days took more sleep, and paid more attention to his affairs; but in less than a month relapsed into his former habits, though he did also attend to his drawing, his geometry, and other business; but at the same time prosecuted his musical studies with all the ardour which his little remaining strength would permit.

In the year, 1783, having completed his probationary architectural drawing, he was admitted among the number of master builders. And now, for the first time, he received lessons, in counterpoint, from M. Fasch. ‘I have,’ he himself states, ‘made as much use of this excellent instruction as I possibly could, in the midst of my other occupations. To this worthy M. Fasch I am entirely indebted for whatever merit many of my compositions may possess.’

After alluding to three themas with variations of his composition, published at Berlin, and many songs, scattered in various publications, he adds, ‘I have besides composed several pieces of music for particular occasions. The best among these are a cantata upon the death of the emperor Friedrich II. in the year 1787, and another cantata upon the birthday of a beloved mother, in the year 1793. A variety of single arias and scenas, many of which I scarcely even can recollect, are not to be taken into account. The concerto for the tenor which I composed, in the year 1780, if it has merit, has on the other hand many faults, and is not theoretically correct. All the rest of my musical works are studies, consisting of fugued choral pieces and fugues, which I have never considered worthy of preservation. If I should hereafter be enabled to devote more time to my beloved art, I hope to indemnify the Friends of my Muse, if any such there be, for those works which from precipitance, or without any blame attaching to me, have already been brought before the public.’

Thus far only, M. Gerber states, ‘extend the particulars which M. Zelter had the kindness to furnish me with in 1793. But it is necessary to add a few explanatory observations. For the benefit of such of my readers as have no other idea of a master-builder, than that he must be begirt with a leathern apron, and armed with a trowel, I must remind them, in the first place, that M. Zelter’s tools consisted solely in a case of drawing instruments and a pen; and that no one can have any conception of his great, his important occupations, who has not had an opportunity of witnessing the solid taste, the grandeur and splendour, of the architecture of Berlin.’ How many an artist might, with a feeling of shame, look upon this pattern of activity, who, day after day, superintended the building of various great edifices; yet, nevertheless, ever bore in mind, with reference to music, the words of Horace, _nulla dies sine linea_. In order also to be as useful as possible when his fatiguing professional duties of the day were completed, he in his hours of relaxation, joined the singing academy of M. Fasch, and became one of its most active members; indeed, it may be said that he was M. Fasch’s right hand.

And when, in the year 1797, M. Gerber revisited Berlin M. Zelter singly, at the piano-forte, directed the whole, while M. Fasch, then become aged and infirm, was most commonly a silent listener in one corner of the room. And this school, or society, performed before MM. Naumann, Himmel, and other distinguished composers, one of Naumann’s learned compositions written for them, (a Latin psalm,) and a part of Fasch’s masterpiece for four choirs. In the same year, too, M. Zelter conducted Graun’s _Tod Jesu_ at the Opera House, in which the choruses were sung by the united members of Fasch’s society; the orchestra having consisted of the members of the Royal Chapel, and the best amateurs in Berlin.

The following are the titles of M. Zelter’s detached papers and compositions. On the representation of Gluck’s opera, _Alceste_, at the Berlin Opera House, from the letters of an artist, published in the fifth Number of the Journal, entitled _Deutschland_. Berlin, 1796. After many interesting observations upon the dramatic treatment of the story by Calsabigi, he remarks, ‘the conductor of the opera should always have the right to wield the helm of the vessel, because he is more likely to enter into the beauties of an excellent poem, than a poet is to understand anything of music, even what is meant by a dissonance.’ Analysis of a scene from Benda’s _Romeo und Julie_, in the first volume of the Lyceum of the Fine Arts. Berlin, 1797-8. Dance and aria from the opera _Axur_, with variations for the piano-forte.--_La Malade, pièce caracteristique pour le Clavecin._--_Schiller’s Ode an die Freude_, (Ode to joy,) for the piano-forte. _Seize chorales composées par_ M. M. Reichardt, Gürrlich, Zelter, &c. _Trinklied_ (Drinking Song) of K. Müchler. Twelve songs with piano-forte accompaniment. The following greater vocal productions also are quoted in Rellstab’s catalogue. _Aria di Bravura: Grato Flauto, &c., p. Soprano con Flauto concertato._ _Rondo a 6; Dove sei, mia bella nice, &c., p. Soprano con Flauto concertato._ Fragment from Wieland’s _Serafine_ in score; all of which were already written about the year 1790; and another of the same description from his celebrated cantata, already alluded to, on the death of the emperor Friedrich II.

The following works of his also have appeared in print:--Memoir of Carl Friedrich Christian Fasch, by C. F. Zelter, with a portrait; Berlin, 1801. Another set of twelve songs with piano-forte accompaniment. _Der Taucher_, (the Diver,) by Schiller, for the piano-forte. Collection of ballads and songs; books 1, 2, 3, 4. _Johanna Sebus_, for several voices, with piano-forte. He subsequently collected his gems of songs and arias of every description, and published them in numbers. There is also a _Te Deum_ of his composition.

In 1809, Zelter was appointed, by the King, professor of music at the Berlin academy of arts and sciences; and as a proof that it was not a mere empty title conferred upon him, the King called him the very same year to Königsberg, to attempt the revival of a taste for church music, which had sunk to a very low ebb; a task for which he was eminently qualified. At the commencement of this year, too, a new society had been formed at Berlin, consisting of about twenty-four male members of the singing academy, under the name of _The Liedertafel_, (the Vocal Club,) of which Zelter was president. The members were divided into two bodies of tenors, and two of bases; they assembled once a month, and sang their songs, the poetry and music being of their own production, their president making his remarks on them. In fact, it was a revival, in a much improved form, of the guild of the old German ‘meister-sänger,’ and did no little credit to the state of cultivation, and the attainments of the dilettanti of Berlin.

M. Zelter died, at a rather advanced age, in 1832.

* * * * *

ON BEETHOVEN’S OPINION OF CONTEMPORARY COMPOSERS.

_To the_ ~Editor~ _of the_ ~Harmonicon~.

~Sir~,

Your last number contains some anecdotes of Beethoven, which must be interesting to every true lover of music. The opinions, however, of artists in regard to the works of others, are, from one cause or another, but too often tinctured by prejudice, and ought, therefore, to be received cautiously.--And I am induced to trouble you with these remarks in consequence of having read the opinions said to have been passed by that great master on the genius of Rossini and Weber. He is stated to have pronounced that ‘Rossini is a good scene painter, and nothing more.’ If the art of moving the mind by dramatic effect, either in music or poetry, rank no higher than that of a dauber of scenes, then is the observation applicable to Rossini, and equally so to Shakspeare.

To every unprejudiced person the motive of Beethoven’s comparison will be sufficiently obvious, and be easily pardoned on the score of disappointed feelings, and the comparative indifference to which it is to be feared he was unjustly doomed. But it is not to such that I would direct my observations. There is a numerous body of soi-disant amateurs and professional composers, who will receive as Gospel the casual remark of a mind enfeebled and irritated by misfortune and infirmity. The silly cry, once (in this country) so prevalent against Rossini, is not, among the ignorant and bigoted, yet wholly silent. And it is surely a grateful duty on the part of all admirers of his almost unparalleled genius to vindicate him against the cur-like assaults of his detractors. Let us not forget that in advocating the cause of Rossini, we are maintaining that of every young composer of talent--for the _same spirit_ which prompts the pack to raise their ‘most sweet voices’ against him, would doubtless actuate them to cry down Beethoven himself, were he now beginning his career, and its blighting effects may, but too often, be noticed in the case of our native composers.

It may be asked, how Beethoven and Spohr escape? The answer is obvious. Beethoven is dead, and his reputation is securely established; while Spohr has much learning and a moderate portion of genius, and is not likely, therefore, to _interfere_ with the solemn stupidity of our musical magnificos. I can remember, a few years back, hearing Beethoven’s symphony in C minor pronounced ‘an absurd piece of nonsense’ by one of the ignoramuses who now exalt it to the skies.[26]

~Justus.~

ON CANON, BY L. VAN BEETHOVEN[27].

In Canon, when written in the unison,--namely for like voices, or in the octave--the strictest imitation must be observed, from the first note to the last. But it may also be composed in all the other intervals, the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, and ninth, in which, however, exceptions and deviations necessarily occur sometimes. Here is the true arena for the tricks of art, and for plodding subtilty.

The different kinds of Canon are--

1. The terminating (or finite) canon, when the melody closes with a perfect cadence.

2. The endless canon, (or infinite) which always begins over again, and in which the parts leave off arbitrarily, at a half or a whole cæsure.

3. The Canon by augmentation.

4. The Canon by diminution.

5. The Close Canon, when the coming in of the parts is only marked by signs, and the whole movement is written on in one staff, without rests.

6. The Open Canon, in which the parts are written one above the other, with the necessary rests before the appearance of each, therefore in the manner of a score.

7. The Retrogade Canon, or Canon _Cancrizans_.

8. The Double Canon, in four parts; the thrice-double, in six; and the four-times double, in eight.

9. The Canon Climax, (_Polymorphus_) the Circular Canon, the construction of which is explained by the name.

10. The Numerical and Enigmatic Canons, which, like everything that partakes of the nature of a riddle, are more easy to invent than to solve, and seldom yield the smallest compensation for the time and trouble bestowed on them. In former times people took a pride in racking their brains with such contrivances; the world is however grown wiser![28]

The Canon in the unison, for similar voices, is, properly speaking, nothing else than a complete duet, trio, quartet, &c., in which the parts come in one after the other, each commencing when the preceding one has finished the melody. The voice, or part, beginning second, is usually that which forms the base, and, conjoined with one or two parts, completes the whole. Example. [To which we have applied a stanza from Otway’s Enchantment.]

_Plan of a terminating Canon in unison, for Three Treble Voices._

I did but look and love a-while,
’Twas but for one half hour;
Then to re-sist I had no will,
And now I have no pow’r.
]

In the following manner it becomes a Close Canon, and the third part is written next after the first.

[30]]

In such alternation of the voices, the whole may be repeated as often as the singers please, or till the hearers are tired. As each must sing the whole quite through, the compass of the notes is to be well considered, so that no one lies too high or too low. As an Open Canon, this composition presents itself in the following form.

From the double bars, where the voices are united, they proceed in continued alternation.

_Canon for Three Male Voices._

[To which, the composer having set no words to it, we have added a Grace, once in much use.]

For these and all his mer-cies, God’s ho-ly name be blessed and
praised.
]

N.B. It is better and more pleasing if the voices do not commence all at the same time. [This remark was unnecessary, as the voices in such canons never begin together.]

[The Author then gives the same Canon as a close and open one, but as these are similar in form to the first, it is not necessary to insert them.]

The same mode of treatment is adopted in writing canons of four or more parts, in unison.

[The Author has followed this observation by an example, but as it is not of an interesting kind, and exactly resembles in rule and order the preceding, we omit it.]

Canons in other intervals are more difficult of invention. In these it is usual to place the clefs of the several parts before the mark of time, in the order of their gradual succession; or to point out such order by means of figures, denoting the distance of the interval, placed above or below the note where it is intended that each part should commence[31]. See, for instance, the following four-part Canon, constructed on the lower fifth and lower octave.

[The Author gives this in score: we have reduced it to two staves to save space, and for the convenience of many who are not accustomed to music in parts. Beethoven leaves it without any termination: by means of the repeat the effect intended is produced, and thus a close is obtained. This will be found in score, with a _Hallelujah_, _Amen_, adapted to it, among the music of the present number.]

This, in the first way mentioned, would be written as a close Canon in the following manner--

By which those who understand the matter, will discover that the soprano commences; that at the second bar the alto follows in the lower fifth; at the fourth bar the tenor begins in the lower octave of the soprano; and finally that, at the fifth bar, the base comes in as lower fifth of the preceding part, or as lower octave of the alto. In the second way spoken of above, the same composition would have the following appearance--

The figures underneath indicate--5, the commencement of the alto in the lower fifth; 8, that of the tenor in the lower octave; and 12, that of the base voice in the _Duodecima gravi_.

_The Chromatic Canon._

[We have also reduced the above to two staves, for the reasons before assigned.]

More mystical still appears the Enigmatic Canon. In such, generally, are found neither signs, figures, nor letters, and frequently even no clef. The problem is a matter of mere keen guess work, and pondering and poring over it, till, with the subtilty of an Œdipus, one arrives at the truth, and the correct solution presents itself in harmonic purity. In such cases it is necessary to try the subject by transposing it into every higher and lower interval; by inverting it and casting it into contrary motion; by interpolating longer or shorter rests; by trying it backwards; by augmenting or diminishing the value of the notes; and even by applying the obsolete clefs, the mezzo-soprano, and baritone or tenor-base, in order to undo the Gordian knot; a task, however, which is, unfortunately, not to be accomplished in the easy manner resorted to by the son of the Macedonian Philip. And what good can result from all this? _Multum clamoris, parum lanæ!_ Possibly I may try my hand at it one of these days, when I have nothing of a more reasonable nature to occupy my time. At present, thank Heaven! I am not in that predicament, and it will be a tolerably long while, I suspect, before I am.

* * * * *

THE ECCLESIASTICAL CHOIRS OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND.

No. VI.--ARMAGH, IRELAND.

The city of Armagh is the ecclesiastical metropolis of Ireland, and owes its origin and pre-eminence to St. Patrick, the acknowledged apostle of Ireland, who built its cathedral and other religious edifices in the year 445. St. Patrick constituted Armagh the mistress and metropolis of Ireland, fixing there the Primatial See, of which he is generally supposed to have been the first bishop. But further information on the subject may be found in Stuart’s _Historical Memoirs of Armagh_.

The cathedral establishment of Armagh was incorporated in the tenth year of Charles I. by a charter drawn up by Archbishop Laud, granting certain lands (called Ballyboes) and impropriations for the continual performance of divine service. The most curious, or rather flagitious, part of this charter is, the power it gives to the Primate of Armagh to act as his own visitor; or, in other words, to be judge in all cases whenever the inferior members of the church may appeal against his authority, however unjustly exercised by himself, his agent, or commissioner; and he has the power to suspend, or even expel, any member of the choir at his pleasure,--the injured individual having no legal means whatever of seeking redress! After searching the records of many other establishments of this kind, nowhere do we find such an instance of clerical assumption; but it is worthy of Laud, and of the reign in which he was allowed to exercise other tyrannies of the most insulting, and grossest kind.

The establishment consists of a Dean and four Prebendaries, four Rural Deans, seven Vicars-Choral, an Organist, and eight Choristers, who perform divine service twice on Sundays, and once on Wednesdays and Fridays. In the cathedral are two organs; one by Father Smith, seldom used,--the other, a very superior instrument, by Snetzler. Formerly the organist and vicars-choral managed their own revenue, which, arising from town lands adjacent to the city, and from the renewal of leases, is often considerable; but latterly this, their own business, has been taken out of their hands. A commissioner, appointed by the primate, together with the agent, who is also an officer of the archbishop, manage this between them, irresponsible to the vicars-choral, and under no control but that of their diocesan, who has the power of suspending or expelling any complainant by his own authority; and, let it be recollected, without the unfortunate sufferer having the power of appeal!

The salary of the organist and master of the boys is 160_l._, to which are added a large house and garden. The salary of the vicars is 90_l._ a year, with house and garden. This sum cannot increase, but may diminish. And now, when any vicar dies, it is the scandalous practice to appoint a deputy, or assistant, in his stead, who receives about half the salary: it is, therefore, unnecessary to say that the duty is performed in a manner correspondent to the abridged emoluments of the office. The choristers are boarded and educated in the house of the organist; and, when their voices change, they are apprenticed out to some trade, or retained as assistants, if capable. Some attempt to obtain a livelihood by teaching singing, &c.

Not the least remarkable feature in this establishment is the set of orders and statutes drawn up for the government of the vicars-choral. The two following will show the spirit in which they are conceived:--

_14th._--All the vicars shall be liable to the archbishop’s visitation, and shall appear in the chapter-room before the archbishop, or his visitor, when they are thereunto called, upon all occasions; and if the archbishop or his visitor, in some special causes that concern the good of the church, urge any vicar to declare his knowledge, and the said vicar refuse to declare the same, he shall be urged thereto by all lawful means, and if he shall then refuse, he shall, after three admonitions, be expelled.

‘It is further ordered and enacted, that the vicars-choral shall not at any time presume to grant away, alien, demise, let, or dispose of any parcel of the lands, tenements, or hereditaments, which they do now possess and enjoy, in right of their being vicars-choral of the cathedral church of St. Patrick, Armagh, to any person or persons, bodies politic or corporate, for any greater or longer estate or term than the term of one year, without the consent, allowance, and direction of the archbishop, under pain of immediate expulsion and deprivation for the same, to every such of the aforesaid vicars who shall transgress therein.’

The foregoing proves beyond contradiction the justice and policy of abolishing such an ecclesiastical tyranny as that of Armagh; and, doubtless, the bill proposed by Lord Grey will get rid of other nuisances as great, though not so notorious, as those which are so glaring in the church of the primate of Ireland.

CANTERBURY.

The Choral School of Canterbury cathedral is coeval with the establishment of the national church, St. Augustine having introduced the chanted service still retained in our cathedrals. The science of music was universally cultivated by the clergy, and so completely identified with religious offices, that, in the language of our ancestors, to sing and to pray were used as synonymous terms.

At the reformation Henry VIII. new-modelled and regulated the cathedral, and gave to the church a code of statutes, which were afterwards modified by Archbishop Laud, and confirmed by Charles I. The fifth chapter of this code determines the number of persons to be maintained out of the revenues granted to the cathedral for this purpose;--they are,

1 Dean.
12 Canons or Prebendaries.
1 Lecturer in Theology.
6 Preachers.
24 Minor Canons, Clerical and Lay.
1 Master of the Choristers.
10 Choristers, &c. &c.

The choristers are to be appointed by the dean (or, in his absence, the sub-dean and chapter); they are to be ‘of tender age, with clear voices and musical talent.’

‘To instruct these boys,’ says the statute, ‘and especially to train them in decorum of manners, and to teach them the art of singing, and to play skilfully upon musical instruments, one clerk shall be chosen, of good conduct and character, and a proficient in music, who shall carefully employ his time in the performance of divine service, and in playing upon the organ, and who shall also be occupied in the care and education of the choristers.

‘And because it may happen that one of the minor-canons or clerks may be better qualified than the organist to instruct the choristers, the dean, &c. shall have the power to elect either the organist or such of the minor clerks as may appear most worthy to perform this duty; which if he neglect, let him, after a third admonition, be deposed from his office, by the authority of those by whom he was elected.’

It also appears that the children of the Chapel Royal, when their voices had changed, were frequently sent to the Grammar School belonging to the cathedral to complete their education; for Laud had been dean of the King’s Chapel, and as such had the superintendence of the choristers belonging to the royal household, and retained an interest in their welfare when no longer officially connected with them. The statute runs thus:--

‘And so often as the dean of our Chapel Royal shall signify to the Dean and Chapter of our church of Canterbury that he will send from our chapel a chorister, who has served there till the breaking of his voice, to study grammar in our church, we will that the Dean and Chapter elect and admit, without fraud or collusion [the king or the archbishop could have had no very favourable opinion of the integrity of the dignitaries of his church], the chorister so nominated.’

The musical establishment of this cathedral at present consists of 6 minor-canons, at about 100_l._ per annum, with a good house, and a living soon after their election; an organist at 100_l._ per annum, with a house; 12 lay-vicars at from 40_l._ to 50_l._ per annum; and 10 choristers, or boys, at 6_l._ per annum.

The service is daily. The choristers are taught (or ought to be) singing three times a week in the church, where there is a musical school-room; and learn reading, writing, and arithmetic, at private schools, at the expense of the church; the latter being a regulation lately introduced by the Dean and Chapter, who, probably, having a foresight of what seems now near at hand, thought it prudent to do something out of their large revenues for the active and useful members of the church. With this view they have also, we are told, augmented the salaries of the lay-clerks, by the liberal addition of 10_l._ The time, however, is fast approaching when the real labourers in the service of religion will be paid according to their work; then will our church be better served and more respected.

MEMOIRS OF DR. BURNEY,

_Arranged from his own Manuscripts, from Family Papers, and from Personal Recollections._ By his Daughter, Madame ~D’Arblay~. Moxon, Bond-street, 9 vols. 8vo.

Had we supposed, after so long a delay, that Madame D’Arblay really meant to publish a life of her father, we certainly should have delayed our memoir of Dr. Burney till enabled to profit by so authentic an account as the present, which was written under advantages that only one of his family could have possessed, and which give an interest to it that could not have been imparted by any other pen.

In the year 1782, while yet in his prime, and possessing in full vigour his intellectual faculties, Dr. Burney contemplated and even commenced writing memoirs of his own life. An introduction which he began to draw up for his intended work, says, ‘Perhaps few have been better enabled to describe, from an actual survey, the manners and customs of the age in which he lived, than myself; ascending from those of the most humble cottagers, and lowest mechanics, to the first nobility, and most elevated personages with whom circumstances, situation, and accident, at different periods of my life, have rendered me familiar. Oppressed and laborious husbandmen; insolent and illiberal yeomanry; overgrown farmers; generous and hospitable merchants; men of business and men of pleasure; men of letters; men of science; artists; sportsmen and country squires; dissipated and extravagant voluptuaries; gamesters; ambassadors; statesmen; and even sovereign princes, I have had opportunities of examining in almost every point of view: all these it is my intention to display in their respective situations; and to delineate their virtues, vices, and apparent degrees of happiness and misery.’

It must be acknowledged that this bill of fare is marked by self-confidence, and that it would have required no common observation and talent to fulfil the promises held out. Unfortunately we are left in the dark how far Dr. Burney could have kept his word, for the plan appears to have been abandoned as rapidly as it was conceived, and never returned to till the year 1807, when the doctor was already an octogenarian, and a paralytic attack had perhaps acted on his mind as it certainly had on his body. From this time, however, he is said to have composed many manuscript volumes of various sizes, containing the history of his life, from his cradle nearly to his grave.--Whether in these memoirs the doctor displayed the characters, and entered into the concerns of the cottagers, mechanics, husbandmen, yeomanry, farmers, or even artists (of the same profession) according to the promises of his own prospectus, the present work affords us no means of judging: it is essentially, and from title-page to colophon, a book of the drawing-room and the boudoir; it is conversant alone with the Corinthian order of society, the porcelain clay of humanity; not an individual undistinguished either by rank, title, fashion, or literary fame, is judged worthy the _honours of the sitting_, and although the enumeration of dinner and evening parties, visitings and conversazioni, is far from scanty, yet, for all that appears in these three volumes, the historian of music may never have formed an acquaintance with, or received at his table, a brother musician in the course of his long life; except, indeed, some foreign singers, of whose private performances at his house we shall presently have to extract an account.

A list of some dozen celebrated names is given, indeed, as always happy to accept Dr. Burney’s invitations, and assist at his musical parties; but of the private familiar intercourse which must have taken place between him and his fellow-professors, we have not a trace. If this is his own omission, we must say it is in bad taste; he may have wished towards the close of his life to be considered rather as a literary man and a wit than as a musician; but, if so, he forgot that it was the union of the two characters which rendered his case remarkable, and called so much of public attention to him.

The memoirs, however, form a very amusing book, full of anecdotes, which if sometimes a little too long, and at others scarcely of importance enough to have merited recording at this distance of time, are always lively and well told, and are the more interesting, as they introduce the reader to the familiar society of Dr. Johnson, Garrick, Burke, Bruce the traveller, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and the whole constellation of wits and literary characters both male and female, which shone with such lustre from fifty to sixty years ago. The picture of parental and family attachment, too, which these volumes display, is in the highest degree charming in itself, and honorable to the parties concerned, who must all have been highly amiable to have been thus, without exception, beloved and loving.

Our readers are aware that Dr. Burney’s first introduction to London was as an articled scholar to Dr. Arne, who appears to have given him very little instruction, but to have, on the other hand, worked him very hard in the monotonous drudgery of music copying; nevertheless, the young apprentice, drawing upon his own resources, both of genius and industry, contrived to compose anonymously a part of the music for a revival of Thomson’s _Masque of Alfred_, and two other small pieces, a burletta of _Robin Hood_, and a pantomime called _Queen Mab_. From this unworthy servitude the doctor was at length rescued before the expiration of his articles, by an event so odd in itself, so creditable to the good sense and manly feeling of two, at least, of the parties concerned in it, and so well told by the authoress, that we extract her account at length.

A Mr. Fulke Greville, a near relation of Lord Warwick, and a man of large fortune and high fashion,--

One morning while trying a new instrument at the house of Kirkman,
the first harpsichord-maker of the times, expressed a wish to
receive musical instruction from some one who had mind and
cultivation, as well as finger and ear; lamenting, with strong
contempt, that, in the musical tribe, the two latter were generally
dislocated from the two former; and gravely asking Kirkman whether
he knew any young musician who was fit company for a gentleman.

Kirkman, with honest zeal to stand up for the credit of the
art by which he prospered, and which he held to be insulted by
this question, warmly answered that he knew many; but, very
particularly, one member of the harmonic corps, who had as much
music in his tongue as in his hands, and who was as fit company for
a prince as for an orchestra.

Mr. Greville, with much surprise, made sundry and formal inquiries
into the existence, situation, and character of what he called so
great a phenomenon; protesting there was nothing he so much desired
as the extraordinary circumstance of finding any union of sense
with sound.

The replies of the good German were so exciting, as well as
satisfactory, that Mr. Greville became eager to see the youth thus
extolled; but charged Mr. Kirkman not to betray a word of what had
passed, that the interview might be free from restraint, and seem
to be arranged merely for showing off the several instruments that
were ready for sale, to a gentleman who was disposed to purchase
one of the most costly.

To this injunction Mr. Kirkman agreed, and conscientiously adhered.

* * * * *

A day was appointed, and the meeting took place.

Young Burney, with no other idea than that of serving Kirkman,
immediately seated himself at an instrument, and played various
pieces of Geminiani, Corelli, and Tartini, whose compositions were
then most in fashion. But Mr. Greville, secretly suspicious of some
connivance, coldly and proudly walked about the room; took snuff
from a finely enamelled snuff box, and looked at some prints, as if
wholly without noticing the performance.

He had, however, too much penetration not to perceive his mistake,
when he remarked the incautious carelessness with which his
inattention was returned; for soon, conceiving himself to be
playing to very obtuse ears, young Burney left off all attempt
at soliciting their favour; and only sought his own amusement by
trying favourite passages, or practising difficult ones, with a
vivacity which showed that his passion for his art rewarded him in
itself for his exertions. But coming, at length, to keys of which
the touch, light and springing, invited his stay, he fired away in
a sonata of Scarlatti’s with an alternate excellence of execution
and expression, so perfectly in accord with the fanciful flights of
that wild but masterly composer, that Mr. Greville, satisfied no
scheme was at work to surprise or to win him; but, on the contrary,
that the energy of genius was let loose upon itself, and enjoying,
without premeditation, its own lively sports and vagaries, softly
drew a chair to the harpsichord, and listened, with unaffected
earnestness, to every note.

Nor were his ears alone curiously awakened; his eyes were
equally occupied to mark the peculiar performance of intricate
difficulties; for the young musician had invented a mode of adding
neatness to brilliancy, by curving the fingers, and rounding the
hand, in a manner that gave them a grace upon the keys quite new at
that time, and entirely of his own devising.

To be easily pleased, however, or to make acknowledgment of being
pleased at all, seems derogatory to strong self-importance; Mr.
Greville, therefore, merely said, “You are fond, Sir, it seems, of
Italian music?”

The reply to this was striking up, with all the varying undulations
of the crescendo, the diminuendo, the pealing swell, and the
“dying, dying fall” belonging to the powers of the pedal, that most
popular masterpiece of Handel’s, the Coronation Anthem.

This quickness of comprehension, in turning from Italian to German,
joined to the grandeur of the composition, and the talents of the
performer, now irresistibly vanquished Mr. Greville; who, convinced
of Kirkman’s truth with regard to the harmonic powers of this son
of Apollo, desired next to sift it with regard to the wit.

Casting off, therefore, his high reserve, with his jealous
surmises, he ceased to listen to the music, and started some theme
that was meant to lead to conversation.

But as this essay, from not knowing to what the youth might be
equal, consisted of such inquiries as, “Have you been in town long,
Sir?” or, “Does your taste call you back to the country, Sir?” &c.
&c., his young hearer, by no means preferring this inquisitorial
style, to the fancy of Scarlatti, or the skill and depth of Handel,
slightly answered, “Yes, Sir,” or “No, Sir;” and, perceiving an
instrument not yet tried, darted to it precipitately, and seated
himself to play a voluntary.

The charm of genuine simplicity is nowhere more powerful than with
the practised and hackneyed man of the world; for it induces what,
of all things, he most rarely experiences, a belief in sincerity.

Mr. Greville, therefore, though thwarted, was not displeased;
for in a votary of the art he was pursuing, he saw a character
full of talents, yet without guile; and conceived, from that
moment, an idea that it was one he might personally attach. He
remitted, therefore, to some other opportunity, a further internal
investigation.

Mr. Kirkman now came forward to announce, that in the following
week he should have a new harpsichord, with double keys, and a
deepened base, ready for examination.

They then parted, without any explanation on the side of Mr.
Greville; or any idea on that of the subject of these memoirs, that
he and his acquirements were objects of so peculiar a speculation.

At the second interview young Burney innocently and eagerly flew at
once to the harpsichord, and tried it with various recollections
from his favourite composers.

Mr. Greville listened complacently and approvingly; but, at the end
of every strain, made a speech that he intended should lead to some
discussion.

Young Burney, however, more alive to the graces of melody than
to the subtleties of argument, gave answers that always finished
with full-toned chords, which as constantly modulated into another
movement; till Mr. Greville, tired and impatient, suddenly proposed
changing places, and trying the instrument himself.

He could not have devised a more infallible expedient to provoke
conversation; for he thrummed his own chosen bits by memory with so
little skill or taste, yet with a pertinacity so wearisome, that
young Burney, who could neither hearken to such playing, nor turn
aside from such a player, caught with alacrity at every opening to
discourse, as an acquittal from the fatigue of mock attention.

This eagerness gave a piquancy to what he said, that stole from
him the diffidence that might otherwise have hung upon his
inexperience; and endued him with a courage for uttering his
opinions, that might else have faded away under the trammels of
distant respect.

This meeting concluded the investigation; music, singing her gay
triumph, took her stand at the helm; and a similar victory for
capacity and information awaited but a few intellectual skirmishes,
on poetry, politics, morals, and literature,--in the midst of which
Mr. Greville, suddenly and gracefully holding out his hand, fairly
acknowledged his scheme, proclaimed its success, and invited the
unconscious victor to accompany him to Wilbury House.

Of Mr. Greville, young Burney soon became a confidential companion; he accompanied his patron into all companies; was introduced to all his friends and associates; and, of course, made many connexions that were highly valuable in after life. After Mr. Greville’s marriage, Burney still continued to reside in the family, and was to have accompanied it on a foreign tour, but love had by this time taken possession of his heart, and instead of travelling on the continent, he, while still in his minority, married his first wife, Miss Esther Sleepe, a lady, whose personal charms and genuine worth are beautifully enshrined by the eloquence and affection of her daughter.

The account given of Dr. Burney’s first settlement in London after his marriage, and of his migration to Lynn, affords us no opportunity of altering or adding, in any material point, to the biographical article in our number for last October. His residence in Norfolk was fruitful in new and valuable connexions, and contributed to the full restoration of his health. It was while thus an exile from the capital and its circles, however, that Mr. Burney laid the foundation of his intimacy with Dr. Johnson; an intimacy which never suffered interruption or diminution, and ended but with the life of the latter. Burney had always been an enthusiastic admirer of Johnson’s writings, and when his dictionary was announced, exerted himself so strenuously in its favour throughout his Norfolk circuit, that he soon collected a little list of subscribers, which afforded him an opportunity of expressing his admiration to the object of it; and the following letter made the opening to a connexion he always considered as one of the greatest honours of his life.

~Mr. Burney to Mr. Johnson.~

Sir,--Though I have never had the happiness of a personal knowledge
of you, I cannot think myself wholly a stranger to a man with whose
sentiments I have so long been acquainted; for it seems to me as
if the writer, who was sincere, had effected the plan of that
philosopher who wished men had windows at their breasts, through
which the affections of their hearts might be viewed.

It is with great self-denial that I refrain from giving way
to panegyric in speaking of the pleasure and instruction I
have received from your admirable writings; but knowing that
transcendent merit shrinks more at praise, than either vice or
dulness at censure, I shall compress my encomiums into a short
compass, and only tell you that I revere your principles and
integrity, in not prostituting your genius, learning, and knowledge
of the human heart, in ornamenting vice or folly with those
beautiful flowers of language due only to wisdom and virtue. I
must add, that your periodical productions seem to me models of
true genius, useful learning, and elegant diction, employed in the
service of the purest precepts of religion, and the most inviting
morality.

I shall waive any further gratification of my wish to tell you,
Sir, how much I have been delighted by your productions, and
proceed to the _business_ of this letter; which is no other than
to beg the favour of you to inform me, by the way that will give
you the least trouble, when, and in what manner, your admirably
planned, and long wished-for Dictionary will be published? If it
should be by subscription, or you should have any books at your
own disposal, I shall beg of you to favour me with six copies for
myself and friends, for which I will send you a draft.

I ought to beg pardon of the public as well as yourself, Sir, for
detaining you thus long from your useful labours; but it is the
fate of men of eminence to be persecuted by insignificant friends
as well as enemies; and the simple cur who barks through fondness
and affection, is no less troublesome than if stimulated by anger
and aversion.

I hope, however, that your philosophy will incline you to forgive
the intemperance of my zeal and impatience in making these
inquiries; as well as my ambition to subscribe myself, with very
great regard,

Sir, your sincere admirer, and most humble servant,

~Charles Burney.~

_Lynn Regis, 16th Feb._, 1755.

In 1760, Mr. Burney returned to London, and fixed his residence in Poland-street, soon collecting round him a circle of pupils, in the highest degree encouraging to his prospects. The anxiety displayed in this part of the Memoir to satisfy the reader that Poland-street was not then the vulgar despised thoroughfare that it is now, but that even dukes and right honourable ladies shared it with Dr. Burney and his family, is rather amusing; but we are too speedily called to a much more serious subject, the death of the first Mrs. Burney, who appears to have been most tenderly loved, and most deeply regretted by her husband. After a widowhood of six years’ duration, however, Mr. Burney entered a second time into the pale of matrimony with a Mrs. Stephen Allen, a lady who was at the head of society in Lynn, while the Burneys resided there, and had been the intimate friend of the first Mrs. Burney.

The next musical record of the doctor’s life, while it obliges us to correct a passage in our own Memoir, awakens something like a painful feeling. We have stated what has hitherto been the received account, that the idea of the General History of Music suggested itself to Dr. Burney, and that the foundation of his collections for that task were laid, during his residence at Lynn. From these Memoirs it appears that it was not till 1769 that Dr. Burney had any idea of undertaking such a work. Now this revives, and seems to give some countenance to the complaint of Sir John Hawkins’s friends, that it was undertaken in direct rivalry to the learned knight’s work, which, though not published till some years after, the literary world well knew that he had long been employed on it. The immediate result of this plan was the two Musical Tours to Italy and Germany. And here we must express our regret and disappointment at not finding one word in the Memoirs relative to these journies, except a story, in which we own we can see no joke, that on his return from one of them the Doctor was so exhausted with sea-sickness, that when the packet reached Dover, instead of going ashore, he went to sleep, and awoke just in time to find himself half way over to Calais again. The reason given for this omission; viz. that the Doctor published detailed accounts of them during his lifetime, we venture to submit, is no reason at all; to say nothing of the books referred to being out of print, and consequently out of the reach of a majority of readers, these tours form important eras in his literary and professional life, and an abstract of them at least should surely have found a place in his Memoirs, except the work now before as is intended only as a contribution towards the labours of some person who shall hereafter compile a complete life of Dr. Burney.

He had been so pleased with the Conservatorios or Musical Schools of the Continent, that very soon after his return he made strenuous efforts to establish a similar foundation in London. He proposed to the directors of the Foundling Hospital to engraft his plan on their institution and select the pupils from the objects of that charity; but notwithstanding the friendly assistance of Sir Charles Whitworth, the president, it was eventually negatived by the general body, and the Doctor gave up the attempt.