Chapter IX: Part THE FIRST: Essays, Criticisms, and Miscellanies (9)

Whether it was occasioned by the weight of his labours at the Opera, or the fatigue occasioned by his recent return to the pen, or whatever was the cause, about this time M. Herold found his health give way. Still young he might have arrested the course of disease, if he would have had recourse to entire repose and a change of climate; but nothing could persuade him to quit the theatre of his success, or to cease from his labours. In spite of all the remonstrances of his friends, he continued to follow the line of life he had laid out for himself, and it was not until the insidious malady had fatally undermined his constitution, that he himself became conscious of alarm. The new management of the Opéra Comique were in want of new operas, which it was necessary also should be ready in a short time; Herold had in his portfolio the score of the ‘_Pré aux Clercs_,’ but to furnish it for bringing before the public required a degree of time, study, and preparation, which the situation of the theatre would not allow. Herold wrote off-hand an operetta in one act, which, though a trifle, shows the hand of a master. This last production preceded a short time the production of his _Pré aux Clercs_, a work of a softer character than his _Zampa_, but not less happily conceived.

It was the song of the swan. The pulmonary complaint which had been undermining his life, now made every day the most alarming progress. The agitation attending the casting and bringing out of his opera hastened the catastrophe, and in less than a month from his last triumph, the artist was in his tomb, his friends, and all who knew the man, were plunged in profound grief, and even those who had no knowledge of him but from his works, sincerely and sorely regretted that his career should have been so suddenly and prematurely closed.

STATE OF MUSIC IN THE PROVINCES.

The inhabitants of the Metropolis, we believe, are not aware of the progress making by music in the provinces. In Lancashire, Yorkshire, and Derbyshire, in particular, there is a diffusion of musical knowledge that almost admits a comparison with that in Germany. Manchester, Liverpool, York, Leeds, Sheffield, Derby, Halifax, contain numbers of able amateurs, who cultivate the art with enthusiasm, and have wealth and spirit for its encouragement. In those towns, and many smaller ones, are choral societies, similar to such as are found in every part of Germany; several of them of long standing, and all judiciously conducted. They are liberally supported by annual subscriptions; their orchestras are led by, and partly composed of, the ablest professors of the place and neighbourhood, the complement being made up by very efficient amateurs; not wholly _gentlemen_-amateurs, for a number of them are young men and women belonging to what is now called the operative class, who are encouraged by their employers to cultivate an art which has so favourable an effect on their character and habits. Out of this class are formed, not only the chorus-singers, whose reputation has long since spread all over England, but the solo-singers; and even the _habitués_ of the London concerts, with whatever metropolitan disdain they might enter a meeting of one of these societies, would, spite of their prepossessions, be delighted with the knowledge, feeling, and even style, frequently exhibited by these country singers. As to the choruses, they would be constrained to admit that they seldom have the good fortune to hear anything like them in London.

These observations have been suggested by a performance which took place at the end of February, in the church of the little town of Belper, in Derbyshire. The Chevalier Neukomm has been residing for some time with his friend, Mr. John Strutt, of Belper, and occupied in completing the great oratorio which he engaged to write for the Birmingham Festival of this year. M. Neukomm, as is well known, is always ready to exercise his talents in the cause of benevolence, and the performance we now mention was got up under his direction, in aid of the funds for erecting and establishing an infant school in the town of Belper.

Great public interest was excited on this occasion, as it was understood not only that some pieces fresh from the pen of that highly-gifted composer would be executed, but that he himself would perform on the _Expressive Organ_, an instrument hardly yet known in England; and families were attracted from Yorkshire, Staffordshire, and other distant places. The orchestra, vocal and instrumental, consisted of a select portion of the Derby Choral Society, combined with the choir of Mr. Strutt; and the talented young violin performer, Mr. Mawkes, gave his assistance. The performance produced for the charity the sum of 160_l._ ‘It is no easy task,’ says the _Derby Reporter_, ‘to point out any parts of the vocal performances as being more eminently entitled than others to our praise. We cannot avoid, however, noticing some pieces with which we were more particularly delighted; among which were the grand Epinicion, or Song of Triumph, from the oratorio of _Saul_; the magnificent _Hallelujah_ of the immortal Handel; a quartett of Haydn, “Lo, my Shepherd is divine;” the splendid “_Second Advent_” of Neukomm; Mozart’s Motet, “O God, when thou appearest;” and four truly sublime and devotional choruses, selected from one of the Chevalier’s compositions, _The Hymn of the Night_, a work hitherto unknown in this country. This composition was published at Paris several years since in French and German, and has been publicly performed at Copenhagen, in presence of the Royal Family of Denmark, with universal approbation. This circumstance, we believe, has led to the recent translation of the original words into English; and we have no doubt, from the specimens which were yesterday heard of its excellence, that it will eventually become a great favourite with the British public.’ In this opinion of the Derby critic, we are enabled, from an attentive examination of the score of the _Hymn of the Night_, to express our entire concurrence. The writer concludes with a glowing description of the Chevalier Neukomm’s extemporaneous playing, with which many of our metropolitan readers are acquainted, and to which the _Harmonicon_ has frequently endeavoured to do justice. The instrument employed by him on this occasion (the _Expressive Organ_) was well calculated for the display of his genius. In size it hardly exceeds a cottage piano-forte; but it has much power as well as delicacy, gives every gradation of _piano_ and _forte_ by a mere pressure of the finger, and produces the effects of almost every species of wind instrument. We are surprised that our _fabricans_ have not yet set about making it.

Mr. Strutt, of Belper, encourages music from a much higher view than that of ministering to his own gratification. He is one of the greatest manufacturers in the kingdom, and his immense establishments give employment and support to a numerous population, to whose comfort and welfare he pays unwearied attention. It is in pursuit of this philosopher-like object that he promotes the cultivation of music among them. At a great sacrifice, both of time and money, he encourages its practice among his male and female operatives, who show a disposition for it; and engages a music-master from Derby, twice or thrice a week, to give them lessons. Among these people he truly finds that music ‘_emollit mores, nec sinit esse feros_;’ and it is earnestly to be wished that such an example were generally followed in establishments where great numbers of people are employed. Wherever the working classes are taught to prefer the pleasures of intellect, and even of taste, to the gratification of sense, a great and favourable change takes place in their character and manners. They are no longer driven by mere vacuity of mind to the beer-shop; and a pastime which opens their minds to the impressions produced by the strains of Handel and Haydn, combined with the inspired poetry of the Scriptures, becomes something infinitely better than the amusement of an idle hour. Sentiments are awakened which make them love their families and their homes; their wages are not squandered in intemperance, and they become happier as well as better.

H.

LETTER FROM MRS. MILLARD.

_To the_ ~Editor~ _of the_ ~Harmonicon~.

~Sir~, _North Walsham, Norfolk, March 8th, 1833._

As I wish to avoid all communications with Mr. Z. T. Purday, music-publisher; and any further with Mr. J. H. Cross, music-arranger, (having written one letter to that gentleman, to which he has given no reply,) I shall deem it a great favour if you will give this a place in your _Harmonicon_.

About eighteen months since, in consequence of some unintentional offence I gave Mr. Purday, (the particulars of which are not worth relating,) that gentleman sent me word he could prove my melody of ‘Alice Gray’ to be borrowed from other compositions. This message, with some accompanying impertinence, I had nearly forgotten, till, on the cover of the _Harmonicon_ of January last, appeared the following notice: ‘Just published, by Z. T. Purday, &c. &c., a French air, on which is founded the popular ballad of Alice Gray, &c. &c.’

Through some mistake of my publisher, I did not receive a copy of this French air till yesterday, otherwise I should have taken the liberty of addressing you earlier on the subject.

A copy of the French air in question will accompany this, from which you will see that the theme is truly ‘a French air,’ being no other than that of Rode’s, modified in different passages, to render the accidental resemblance between it and my melody the greater. You will also perceive that the variations have not such an appellation for nothing, as they have little to do with the theme; but are as clearly and entirely formed on the melody of my ballad, as those of Mr. Knapton’s or Mr. Valentine’s. These facts need no comment, as they must speak for themselves much more than will be desirable, either to the arranger or publisher. Before I conclude, I beg leave to say, that at the time I composed my ballad, I had never (strange as it may appear) heard Rode’s melody, nor was I at all aware of the existence of any thing which bore any resemblance to mine.

I am, Sir,

Your obedient servant,

~Virtue Millard~.

CONCERTS AT OXFORD; AND ON THE STATE OF MUSIC AT BOTH UNIVERSITIES.

_To the_ ~Editor~ _of the_ ~Harmonicon~.

~Sir~, _Oxford, March 5th, 1833_.

In the pages of your agreeable and instructive miscellany, I invariably find some information as to the state of music upon the Continent. You inform me what new operas have been produced, which have succeeded, and which failed: you tell me where all the great and first-rate singers are at the time of your writing, and also state what new singers have made their début, and with what success: in fact, you make me perfectly acquainted with what is going on in the musical world at Rome, Naples, Milan, Vienna, Berlin, &c.; and in addition to all this you occasionally give an account of a concert at Birmingham, York, Liverpool, Manchester, and many other of our own large towns. Now, Sir, I have no doubt that very many of your constant readers will agree with me in saying all this is very amusing, and very acceptable. I have been, however, equally sorry and surprised at not having seen in the _Harmonicon_ any article relating to music connected with our universities, or any account of a concert having been given either at Oxford or Cambridge for these three years past! This appeared to me very odd; surely, thought I, the omission cannot be for want of a correspondent, for at these places it may almost be said that ‘every man is a scribe by trade.’ To what cause then is this lack of intelligence owing? Being a resident at Oxford, I know, of course, what has been, and what is going on, concerning music, both in the university and the city; but being ignorant of what has been doing at Cambridge, I determined (for my own satisfaction, and being a great lover of music) to inquire, and the result of my inquiry (though I blush to record it) is, that there every thing connected with music has been for some years past, and still is, as dull and showing as little motion as the almost stagnate river that washes her college walls. It is really mortifying to think that Music receives less patronage from Granta’s learned and classical sons, than is bestowed on her by the manufacturers and tradesmen of Sheffield and Leeds!

Now, Sir, without meaning to triumph over the students and residents at the sister university, or to boast of our pleasant localities by comparing the verdant and flowery banks of the ‘silver Isis’ with the ‘lazy Cam,’ I am happy to state that it is not quite so bad with us. At Oxford, music, although not in a very flourishing state, yet is not totally neglected, and among those who have ever been most forward to promote its success and prosperity, I must not omit to notice the stewards of the music-room, who have continued regularly to give two concerts every term. It is true, indeed, that the success of the undertaking has not always been adequate to their wishes, or such as might reasonably have been expected from the acknowledged excellence of the performances, and the first rate talent that has been engaged. However, they are not discouraged, but cherishing a love for the art, and a desire to see it prosper in the university, they zealously persevere in the good old custom (established, I believe, by Dr. Hayes) of providing, every term, for the heads of houses and their families, the gownsmen, and the upper class of citizens, three hours of the most innocent enjoyment that any rational being can indulge in; thus gratifying their own passion for music, and at the same time promoting the interests of its professors.

Having said so much, Mr. Editor, I will venture to add an account of the two last concerts given by the before-mentioned stewards on the evenings of Thursday and Friday, the 14th and 15th of February last. The vocal performers _originally_ engaged were Miss Shirreff, of Covent Garden Theatre, Miss C. Lyon, a promising young débutante, and Signor Donzelli. I have said originally engaged, because ‘thereby hangs a tale.’ Report says, and I have no doubt truly, that Signor Donzelli was not only engaged a month previous to the concerts, but that he himself, with the knowledge and consent of Mr. Laporte, fixed on Thursday and Friday, the 14th and 15th of February, and his name was, of course, placarded and announced throughout the county in every possible manner. Now mark, Sir:--on the Tuesday preceding the concerts, or, in other words, about eight-and-forty hours before he was to sing his first song, Signor Donzelli sent a notice that the Opera was to open on the Thursday, and that he could not go to Oxford! All who have had any experience in the getting up of a concert, will easily imagine what trouble and consternation this intelligence occasioned. It appears it was impossible, for many reasons, to put off the concerts. In this dilemma, Mr. T. Welsh (being the master or instructor both of Miss Shirreff and Miss C. Lyon) was applied to, and at this very short notice agreed to go. He did so, and attended a rehearsal with the ladies, on the Thursday morning for the concert in the evening.

Now, Mr. Editor, if you have been surprised at what I have already related, I think you will be still more so when I tell you, that between four and five o’clock the same afternoon, Signor Donzelli (whom the good people at Oxford had been informed by hand-bills a few hours before was prevented from attending) came into the town by one of the coaches, and, after all the bustle and confusion he had occasioned, very coolly declared that the Opera would not open as expected, and that he was come to fulfil his engagement! After this, let us talk no more of the glorious uncertainty of the law, for it is nothing, Sir, compared to the caprice of an Italian opera singer, and a French manager.

The great reputation which Signor Donzelli has acquired in all the principal towns in Italy, as well as Paris and London, must, consequently, render his name attractive whenever and wherever it appears in a provincial concert bill;--and, indeed, so it ought; for, if I have been correctly informed, the sum he demanded for coming to Oxford, clearly proves that if he knows how to sing, he knows equally well how to charge. But the strangest part of this strange story is, _that one-third_ of the sum he received is pocketed by M. Laporte. Can this be true?

Having announced our hero’s unexpected arrival at Oxford, let me now introduce you to him at the music-room. The songs, duets, &c. selected for Signor Donzelli were, of course, Italian; those for our fair countrywomen being in our own language; so that the lovers of English music, and the patrons of native talent, as well as the more fashionable admirers of the Italian school, were equally gratified. The whole of the selection appeared to me to have been made with judgment, and the English and Italian pieces were judiciously intermingled. In the first concert we had two charming Italian duets, ‘Amor, possente nome,’ (Rossini) and ‘Come ti piace imponi,’ (Mozart) both of which were well sung by Miss Shirreff and Signor Donzelli. A pleasing ballad, ‘Light up the gay and festive Hall,’ (Hodson) was chastely given by Miss C. Lyon. In the song ‘Bright flattering days,’ (being English words adapted to the aria ‘Bel l’ Raggio,’ from Rossini’s _Semiramide_) Miss Shirreff had a fair opportunity of exhibiting her powers, and very much pleased our Oxford audience; and in a ballad, ‘The Arab Maid,’ she displayed the versatility of her talent by accompanying herself on the piano-forte.

This being Signor Donzelli’s first appearance at Oxford, I paid him, whilst he was singing, all the attention that might be naturally expected from an amateur, who was listening to so celebrated a singer for the first time. He is, undoubtedly, a man of great talent, yet if I were sure, Mr. Editor, that you would not censure my temerity, I should say that he lacks judgment in the management of his splendid voice, and that in the two arias ‘Pria che spunti,’ (Cimarosa) and ‘Ah! se forse,’ from Mozart’s _Clemenza di Tito_, he appeared to me to have forgotten that he was singing in a small concert-room at Oxford, and not on the stage at the King’s Theatre. I was still more confirmed in my opinion when, on the second night, I heard him sing with Miss Shirreff, the lovely duet ‘Ah! perdona,’ and I could not help thinking that compositions like this, where tender elegance is the leading feature, are not so well adapted to his manner, as music of a boisterously impassioned character; and this, to my mind, was clearly exemplified when I heard him later in the evening sing with the same lady the magnificent duet ‘Fuggi! crudele, fuggi!’ from _Don Giovanni_. In this I thought him great. The cavatina ‘Ah! si per voi già sento,’ (from Rossini’s ‘Otello,’ and which was never, I believe, heard at Oxford before,) he also executed admirably; and sorry I am that I cannot, conscientiously, bestow the same commendation on the aria (a great favourite of mine) ‘Il mio tesoro,’ which I have heard sung with much more feeling and expression than Signor Donzelli imparted to it, though certainly not with so splendid a voice. And here, Sir, I must take leave of the Signor, at least for the present.

Miss C. Lyon had the good sense to introduce Handel’s ‘Hush ye pretty warbling Choir,’ which, I may say, (without meaning to play on the word,) she ‘warbled prettily.’ Miss Shirreff’s ‘Trifler, forbear,’ by Bishop, afforded another proof that we have among us English men who can compose, and English women who can sing.

It would be unjust not to mention that, in the course of the second concert, Mr. T. Welsh introduced Purcell’s ‘Mad Tom,’ which he sung (accompanying himself on the piano-forte) with great effect. The beauties of this composition were not lost upon the audience, and Mr. Welsh’s performance was, very deservedly, much applauded.

I am, Mr. Editor,
Your very obedient servant,
~A Lover of Music~.

P.S.--If Signor Donzelli should receive an application to sing at Oxford again, I would, for his own sake, strongly recommend that, before he accepts it, he will not only finally make up his own mind on the subject, and firmly abide by it, but also ascertain, whether, after being promised leave of absence from the Opera, he may safely rely on M. Laporte’s _honourably_ keeping his word; that is, in case it should so chance that M. Laporte should be the manager of the Italian Opera twelve months hence.

THE SONG OF ‘MAD TOM OF BEDLAM.’

_To the_ ~Editor~ _of the_ ~Harmonicon~.

~Sir~,

It would be difficult, perhaps, now to ascertain at what time, and by whom the song of ‘Mad Tom’ was first ascribed to Purcell; but that it was not always given to him is evident, from its having been inserted in a collection of songs published during his life, and these attributed to another composer, Henry Lawes; and though the claim of the latter may be doubted, from the dissimilarity of its style from that of his other compositions, yet having been published as his by Playford, it is a strong presumptive proof in favour of Lawes, for Playford was a musician of some eminence, and may be supposed to have lived on terms of intimacy with the professors of his day, and therefore well acquainted with their compositions.

With respect to the air which I sent you having been the basis on which the song was made, it may, I think, be inferred from the title that the song was the original, and that being popular, it was in consequence adapted as an air for the Virginals, the title of it, ‘The Man in the Moon,’ being the first line of one of the stanzas in the song: ‘The man in the moon drinks claret.’ The inaccuracies in this air, whatever they may be, must be imputed to the original transcriber, mine being a faithful copy from his book, the date of which, being about twenty years before the birth of Purcell, renders it impossible that he should have been the composer of the song in question.

The latter part of the song, from ‘In my triumphant chariot,’ I have seen printed as a single song, with Haydn’s name to it as the composer.

Can you furnish we with any information respecting the music to which the various songs in the plays of Shakspeare were originally sung, the whole now performed, except the fragments sung by Ophelia, being of modern date?

I remain, &c.
~An old Member of the Pump-Room Band, Bath.~

MEMOIRS OF DR. BURNEY, BY HIS DAUGHTER MAD. D’ARBLAY.

[Continued from page 54.]

We resume our specimens of these volumes with an extract from a letter, giving the authoress’s account of Agujari, who is, by the common consent of contemporary musicians, allowed to have possessed the most wonderful voice that any woman was ever gifted with, (reaching to ~B~♭ in altissimo); and to have been the most talented and splendid singer of her day; but who, being excluded by lameness from the stage, and confined entirely to the church or the concert-room, is less remembered than many theatrical singers who were not possessed of half her merit.

“She came with the Signor Maestro Colla, very early, to tea.

“I cannot deign to mention our party,--but it was small and
good:--though by no means bright enough to be enumerated in the
same page with Agujari.

“She frightened us a little, at first, by complaining of the
cold. How we looked at one another! Mr. Burney was called upon
to begin; which he did with even more than his usual spirit; and
then--without waiting for a petition--which nobody, not even
my dear father, had yet gathered courage to make, Agujari, the
Bastardella, arose, voluntarily arose, to sing!

“We all rose too! we seemed all ear. There was no occasion for any
other part to our persons. Had a fan,--for I won’t again give you
a pin,--fallen, I suppose we should have taken it for at least a
thunder-clap. All was hushed and rapt attention.

“Signor Colla accompanied her. She began with what she called a
little minuet of his composition.

“Her cold was not affected, for her voice, at first, was not
quite clear! but she acquitted herself charmingly. And, little as
she called this minuet, it contained difficulties which I firmly
believe no other singer in the world could have executed.

“But her great talents, and our great astonishment, were reserved
for her second song, which was taken from Metastasio’s opera of
Didone, set by Colla, ‘_Non hai ragione, ingrato!_’

“As this was an _aria parlante_, she first, in a voice softly
melodious, read us the words, that we might comprehend what she had
to express.

“It is nobly set; nobly! ‘Bravo, il Signor Maestro!’ cried my
father, two or three times. She began with a fulness and power of
voice that amazed us beyond all our possible expectations. She then
lowered it to the most expressive softness--in short, my dear Mr.
Crisp, she was sublime! I can use no other word without degrading
her.

“This, and a second great song from the same opera, _Son Regina_,
and _Son Amante_, she sang in a style to which my ears have
hitherto been strangers. She unites, to her surprising and
incomparable powers of execution, and luxuriant facility and
compass of voice, an expression still more delicate--and, I had
almost said, equally feeling with that of my darling Millico, who
first opened my sensations to the melting and boundless delights of
vocal melody.[43] In fact, in Millico, it was his own sensibility
that excited that of his hearers; it was so genuine, so touching!
It seemed never to want any spur from admiration, but always to owe
its excellence to its own resistless pathos.

“Yet with all its vast compass, and these stupendous sonorous
sounds, the voice of Agujari has a mellowness, a sweetness, that
are quite vanquishing. One can hardly help falling at her feet
while one listens! Her shake, too, is no plump, so true, act open!
and, to display her various abilities to my father, she sang in
twenty styles--if twenty there may be; for nothing is beyond her
reach. In songs of execution, her divisions were so rapid, and so
brilliant, they almost made one dizzy from breathless admiration:
her cantabiles were so fine, so rich, so moving, that we could
hardly keep the tears from our eyes. Then she gave us some
accompanied recitative, with a nobleness of accent, that made every
one of us stand erect out of respect! Then, how fascinately she
condescended to indulge us with a rondeau! though she holds that
simplicity of melody beneath her; and therefore rose from it to
chant some church music, of the Pope’s Chapel, in a style so nobly
simple, so grandly unadorned, that it penetrated to the inmost
sense. She is just what she will: she has the highest taste, with
an expression the most pathetic; and she executes difficulties the
most wild, the most varied, the most incredible, with just as much
ease and facility as I can say--my dear Mr. Crisp!

“Now don’t you die to come and hear her? I hope you do. O, she is
indescribable!

“Assure yourself my father joins in all this, though perhaps, if he
had time to write for himself, he might do it more Lady Grace like,
‘soberly.’ I hope she will fill up at least half a volume of his
history. I wish he would call her The Heroine of Music!

“We could not help regretting that her engagement was at the
Pantheon, as her evidently fine ideas of acting are thrown away at
a mere concert.

“At this, she made faces of such scorn and derision against the
managers, for not putting her upon the stage, that they altered
her handsome countenance almost to ugliness; and, snatching up a
music book, and opening it, and holding it full broad in her hands,
she dropt a formal courtesy, to take herself off at the Pantheon,
and said; ‘_Oui! j’y suis là comme une statue! comme une petite
ecolière!_’ And afterwards she contemptuously added: ‘_Mais, on
n’aime guere ici que les rondeaux!--Moi--j’abhorre ces miseres là!_’

“One objection, however, and a rather serious one, against her
walking the stage, is that she limps.”

Two following letters of the authoress refer, first to disappointment in going to the Opera, when Gabrielli was advertised but did not sing; and secondly, to disappointment when she did sing. The next letter, giving an account of a concert at Dr. Burney’s house, immediately after the appearance of Gabrielli, we insert entire, as a fair medium specimen of the authoress’s style and talent in that species of writing. The concerts held at Dr. Burney’s appear to have been honoured by the presence of some very high company, though the performances appear to have been confined to the pianoforte, and a little singing, and the performers limited to the Doctor’s family and a few amateurs of rank. Not even a flute or violin is heard of, nor a single professional musician (out of the family) once mentioned as present:--

“You reproach me, my dear Mr. Crisp, for not sending you an account
of our last two concerts. But the fact is, I have not anything new
to tell you. The music has always been the same: the matrimonial
duets are so much _à la mode_, that no other thing in our house is
now demanded.

“But if I can write you nothing new about music--you want, I well
know you will say, to hear some conversations.

“My dear Mr. Crisp, there is at this moment, no such thing as
conversation. There is only one question asked, meet whom you
may, namely; ‘How do you like Gabrielli?’ and only two modes,
contradictory to be sure, but very steady, of reply: either, ‘Of
all things upon earth!’ or, ‘Not the least bit in the whole world!’

“Well, now I will present you with a specimen, beginning with our
last concert but one, and arranging the persons of the drama in the
order of their actual appearance.

“But, imprimis, I should tell you, that the motive to this
concert was a particular request to my father from Dr. King, our
old friend, and the chaplain to the British--something--at St.
Petersburgh, that he would give a little music to a certain mighty
personage, who, somehow or other how, must needs take, transiently
at least, a front place in future history,--namely, the famed
favourite of the Empress Catherine of Russia, Prince Orloff.

“There, my dear Mr. Crisp! what say you to seeing such a doughty
personage as that in a private house, at a private party, of a
private individual, fresh imported from the Czarina of all the
Russias,--to sip a cup of tea in St. Martin’s street?

“I wonder whether future historians will happen to mention this
circumstance? I am thinking of sending it to all the keepers of
records.

“But I see your rising eyebrow at this name--your start--your
disgust--yet big curiosity.

“Well, suppose the family assembled, its honoured chief in the
midst--and Tat, tat, tat, tat, at the door.

_Enter_ ~Dr. Ogle, Dean of Winchester~.

“_Dr. Burney_, after the usual ceremonies.--‘Did you hear the
Gabrielli last night, Mr. Dean?’

“_The Dean._--‘No, Doctor, I made the attempt, but soon retreated;
for I hate a crowd,--as much as the ladies love it!--I beg pardon!’
bowing with a sort of civil sneer at the Fair Sex.

“My mother was entering upon a spirited defence, when--Tat, tat,
tat.

“_Enter_ ~Dr. King~.

“He brought the compliments of Prince Orloff, with his Highness’s
apologies for being so late, but he was obliged to dine at Lord
Buckingham’s, and thence, to show himself at Lady Harrington’s.

“As nobody thought of inquiring into Dr. King’s opinion of La
Gabrielli, conversation was at a stand, till--Tat, tat, tat, tat,
too, and

“_Enter_ ~Lady Edgcumbe~.

“We were all introduced to her, and she was very chatty, courteous,
and entertaining.

“_Dr. Burney._--‘Your Ladyship was certainly at the Opera last
night?’

“_Lady Edgcumbe._--‘O yes!--but I have not heard the Gabrielli! I
cannot allow that I have yet heard her.’

“_Dr. Burney._--‘Your Ladyship expected a more powerful voice?’

“_Lady Edgcumbe._--‘Why, n-o--not much. The shadow can tell what
the substance must be; but she cannot have acquired this great
reputation throughout Europe for nothing. I therefore repeat that
I have not yet heard her. She must have had a cold.--But for me--I
have heard Mingotti!--I have heard Montecelli!--I have heard
Mansuoli!--and I shall never hear them again!’

“_The Dean._--‘But, Lady Edgcumbe, may not Gabrielli have great
powers, and yet have too weak a voice for so large a theatre?’

“_Lady Edgcumbe._--‘Our theatre, Mr. Dean, is of no size to what
she had been accustomed to abroad. But,--Dr. Burney, I have also
heard the Agujari!’

“_Hettina_, _Fanny_, _Susanna_.--‘Oh! Agujari!’ (All three speaking
with clasped hands.)

“_Dr. Burney_ (laughing).--‘Your ladyship darts into all their
hearts by naming Agujari! However, I have hopes you _will_ hear her
again.’

“_Lady Edgcumbe._--‘O, Dr. Burney! bring her but to the Opera,--and
I shall grow crazy!’

“I assure you, my dear Mr. Crisp, we all longed to embrace her
ladyship. And she met our sympathy with a good humour full of
pleasure. My father added, that we all doated upon Agujari.

“_Lady Edgcumbe._--‘O! she is incomparable!--Mark but the
difference, Dr. Burney; by Gabrielli, Rauzzini seems to have a
greet voice;--by Agujari, he seemed to have that of a child.’--

“Tat, tat, tat, tat, too.

“_Enter_ The Hon. ~Mr.~ and ~Mrs. Brudenel~,

“Mr. Brudenel,[44] commonly called ‘His Honour,’ from high birth,
I suppose, without title, or from some quaint old cause that
nobody knows who has let me into its secret, is tall and stiff,
and strongly in the _ton_ of the present day; which is anything
rather than macaroniism; for it consists of unbounded freedom and
ease, with a short, abrupt, dry manner of speech; and in taking the
liberty to ask any question that occurs upon other peoples affairs
and opinions; even upon their incomes and expenses;--nay, even upon
their age!

“Did you ever hear of anything so shocking?

“I do not much mind it now; but, when I grow older, I intend
recommending to have this part of their code abolished.

“Mrs. Brudenel is very obliging and pleasing; and of as great fame
as a lady-singer, as Lady Edgcumbe is as a first rate lady-player.

“The usual question being asked of La Gabrielli;

“_Mrs. Brudenel._--‘O, Lady Edgcumbe and I are entirely of the same
opinion; we agree that we have not yet heard her.’

“_Lady Edgcumbe._--‘The ceremony of her quitting the theatre after
the Opera is over, is extremely curious. First goes a man in livery
to clear the way; then follows the sister; then the Gabrielli
herself. Then, a little foot-page, to bear her train; and, lastly,
another man, who carries her muff, in which is her lap-dog.’

“_Mr. Brudenel._--‘But where is Lord March all this time?’

“_Lady Edgcumbe_ (laughing).--‘Lord March? O,---- he, you know, is
first Lord of the Bedchamber!’--

“Tat, tat, tat, tat.

“_Enter_ M. le ~Baron de Demidoff~.

“He is a Russian nobleman, who travels with Prince Orloff; and
he preceded his Highness with fresh apologies, and a desire that
the concert might not wait, as he would only show himself at Lady
Harrington’s, and hasten hither.

“My father then attended Lady Edgcumbe to the Library, and Mr.
Burney took his place at the harpsichord.

“We all followed. He was extremely admired; but I have nothing new
to tell you upon that subject.

“Then enter Mr. Chamier. Then followed several others; and then

“_Enter_ ~Mr. Harris~, _of Salisbury_.

“Susan and I quite delighted in his sight, he is so amiable to talk
with, and so benevolent to look at. Lady Edgcumbe rose to meet him,
saying he was her particular old friend. He then placed himself
by Susan and me, and renewed acquaintance in the most pleasing
manner possible. I told him we were all afraid he would be tired to
death of so much of one thing, for we had nothing to offer him but
again the duet. ‘That is the very reason I solicited to come,’ he
answered; ‘I was so much charmed the last time, that I begged Dr.
Burney to give me a repetition of the same pleasure.’

“‘Then--of course, the Opera? The Gabrielli?’

“Mr. Harris declared himself her partisan.

“Lady Edgcumbe warmed up ardently for Agujari.

“_Mr. Dean._--‘But pray, Dr. Burney, why should not these two
melodious signoras sing together, that we might judge them fairly?’

“_Dr. Burney._--‘Oh! the rivalry would be too strong. It would
create a musical ear. It would be Cæsar and Pompey.’

“_Lady Edgcumbe._--‘Pompey the Little, then, I am sure would be la
Gabrielli!’

“_Enter_ ~Lord Bruce~.

“He is a younger brother not only of the Duke of Montagu, but
of his Honour Brudenel. How the titles came to be so awkwardly
arranged in this family is no affair of mine; so you will
excuse my sending you to the Herald’s Office, if you went that
information, my dear Mr. Crisp; though as you are one of the rare
personages who are skilled in everything yourself,--at least so
says my father;--and he is a Doctor, you know!--I dare say you will
genealogize the matter to me at once, when next I come to dear
Chesington.

“He is tall, thin, and plain, but remarkably sensible, agreeable,
and polite: as, I believe, are very generally all those
keen-looking Scotchmen; for Scotch, not from his accent, but his
name, I conclude him of course. Can Bruce be other than Scotch?
They are far more entertaining, I think, as well as informing,
taken in the common run, than we silentious English; who, taken _en
masse_, are tolerably dull.

“The Opera?--the Gabrielli?--were now again brought forward. Lady
Edgcumbe, who is delightfully music mad, was so animated, that she
was quite the life of the company.

“At length--Tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, too!

“_Enter_ ~His Highness Prince Orloff~.

“Have you heard the dreadful story of the thumb, by which this
terrible Prince is said to have throttled the late emperor of
Russia, Peter, by suddenly pressing his windpipe while he was
drinking? I hope it is not true; and Dr. King, of whom, while he
resided in Russia, Prince Orloff was the patron, denies the charge.
Nevertheless, it is so currently reported, that neither Susan nor I
could keep it one moment from our thoughts; and we both shrunk from
him with secret horror, heartily wishing him in his own Black Sea.

“His sight, however, produced a strong sensation, both in those who
believed, and those who discredited this disgusting barbarity; for
another story, not perhaps, of less real, though less sanguinary
guilt, is not a tale of rumour, but a crime of certainty; namely,
that he is the first favourite of the cruel inhuman Empress--if it
be true that she connived at this horrible murder.

“His Highness was immediately preceded by another Russian nobleman,
whose name I have forgot; and followed by a noble Hessian, General
Bawr.

“Prince Orloff is of stupendous stature, something resembling Mr.
Bruce. He is handsome, tall, fat, upright, magnificent. His dress
was superb. Besides the blue garter, he had a star of diamonds
of prodigious brilliancy, a shoulder-knot of the same lustre and
value, and a picture of the Empress hung about his neck, set round
with diamonds of such brightness and magnitude, that, when near the
light, they were too dazzling for the eye. His jewels, Dr. King
says, are estimated at one hundred thousand pounds sterling.

“His air and address are showy, striking, and assiduously
courteous. He had a look that frequently seemed to say, ‘I hope you
observe that I come from a polished court?--I hope you take note
that I am no Cossack?’--Yet, with all this display of commanding
affability, he seems, from his native taste and humour, ‘agreeably
addicted to pleasantry.’ He speaks very little English, but knows
French perfectly.

“His introduction to my father, in which Dr. King pompously
figured, passed in the drawing-room. The library was so crowded,
that he could only show himself at the door, which was barely high
enough not to discompose his prodigious toupee.

“He bowed to Mr. Chamier, then my next neighbour, whom he had
somewhere met; but I was so impressed by the shocking rumours of
his horrible actions, that involuntarily I drew back even from a
bow of vicinity; murmuring to Mr. Chamier, ‘He looks so potent and
mighty. I do not like to be near him!’

“‘He has been less unfortunate,’ answered Mr. Chamier, archly,
‘elsewhere; such objection has not been made to him by all ladies!’

“Lord Bruce, who knew, immediately rose to make way for him, and
moved to another end of the room. The Prince instantly held out his
vast hand, in which, if he had also held a cambric handkerchief, it
must have looked like a white flag on the top of a mast,--so much
higher than the most tip-top height of every head in the room was
his spread-out arm, as he exclaimed, ‘_Ah! milord me fuit!_’

“His Honour, then, rising also, with a profound reverence, offered
his seat to his Highness; but he positively refused to accept it,
and declared that if Mr. Brudenel would not be seated, he would
himself retire; and seeing Mr. Brudenel demur, still begging
his Highness to take the chair, he cried with a laugh, but very
peremptorily, ‘_Non, non, Monsieur! Je ne le veux pas! Je suis
opiniatre, moi; un peu comme Messieurs les Anglais!_’

“Mr. Brudenel then reseated himself: and the corner of a form
appearing to be vacant, from the pains taken by poor Susan to
shrink away from Mr. Orloff, his Highness suddenly dropped down
upon it his immense weight, with a force--notwithstanding a
palpable and studied endeavour to avoid doing mischief--that
threatened his gigantic person with plumping upon the floor; and
terrified all on the opposite side of the form with the danger of
visiting the ceiling.

“Perceiving Susan strive, though vainly, from want of space, to
glide farther off from him, and struck, perhaps, by her sweet
countenance, ‘_Ah. ha!_’ he cried, ‘_Je tiens ici, je vois, une
petite Prisonnière!_’

“Charlotte, blooming like a budding little Hebe, actually stole
into a corner, from affright at the whispered history of his thumb
ferocity.

“Mr. Chamier, who now probably had developed what passed in my
mind, contrived, very comically, to disclose his similar sentiment;
for, making a quiet way to my ear, he said, in a low voice, ‘I
wish Dr. Burney had invited Omiah here tonight, instead of Prince
Orloff!’ Meaning, no doubt, of the two exotics, he should have
preferred the most innocent!

“The grand duet of Müthel was now called for, and played. But I can
tell you nothing extra of the admiration it excited. Your Hettina
looked remarkably pretty; and, added to the applause given to the
music, every body had something to observe upon the singularity
of the performers being husband and wife. Prince Orloff was witty
quite to facetiousness; sarcastically marking something beyond
what he said, by a certain ogling, half cynical, half amorous cast
of his eyes; and declaring he should take care to initiate all
the foreign academies of natural philosophy in the secret of the
harmony that might be produced by such nuptial concord.

“The Russian nobleman who accompanied Prince Orloff, and who knew
English, they told us, so well that he was the best interpreter
for his Highness in his visits, gave us now a specimen of his
proficiency; for, clapping his forefinger upon a superfine
snuff-box, he exclaimed, when the duet was finished, ‘Ma foi, dis
is so pretty as never I hear in my life!’

“General Bawr, also, to whom Mr. Harris directed my attention, was
greatly charmed. He is tall, and of stern and martial aspect. ‘He
is a man,’ said Mr. Harris, ‘_to be looked at_, from his courage,
conduct, and success during the last Russian war; when, though a
Hessian by birth, he was a Lieutenant General in the service of the
Empress of Russia; and obtained the two military stars, which you
now see him wear on each side, by his valour.’

“But the rapture of Lady Edgcumbe was more lively than that of any
other. ‘Oh, Dr. Burney,’ she cried, ‘you have set me a madding! I
would willingly practise night and day to be able to perform in
such a manner. I vow I would rather hear that extraordinary duet
played in that extraordinary manner, than twenty operas!’

“Her ladyship was now introduced to Prince Orloff, whom she had not
happened to meet with before; and they struck up a most violent
flirtation together. She invited him to her house, and begged leave
to send him her card. He accepted the invitation, but begged leave
to fetch the card in person. She should be most happy, she said,
to receive him, for though she had but a small house, she had a
great ambition. And so they went on, in gallant courtesie, till,
once again, the question was brought back of the Opera, and the
Gabrielli.

“The Prince declared that she had not by any means sung as well as
at St. Petersburgh; and General Bawr protested that, had he shut
his eyes, he should not again have known her.

“Then followed, to vary the entertainment, singing by Mrs. Brudenel.

“Prince Orloff inquired very particularly of Dr. King who we
four young female Burneys were; for we were all dressed alike on
account of our mourning; and when Dr. King answered, ‘Dr. Burney’s
daughters,’ he was quite astonished; for he had not thought our
dear father, he said, more than thirty years of age, if so much.

“Mr. Harris, in a whisper, told me he wished some of the ladies
would desire to see the miniature of the Empress a little nearer,
the monstrous height of the Prince putting it quite out of view to
his old eyes and short figure; and _being a man_, he could not, he
said, presume to ask such an indulgence as that of holding it in
his own hands.

“Delighted to do any thing for this excellent Mr. Harris, and quite
at my ease with poor prosing Dr. King, I told him the wish of Mr.
Harris.

“Dr. King whispered the desire to M. de Demidoff; M. de Demidoff
did the same to General de Bawr; and General de Bawr dauntlessly
made the petition to the Prince, in the name of _The Ladies_.

“The Prince laughed, rather sardonically; yet with ready good
humour complied; telling the General, pretty much _sans ceremonie_,
to untie the ribbon round his neck, and give the picture into the
possession of The Ladies.

“He was very gallant and _debonnaire_ upon the occasion, entreating
they would by no means hurry themselves; yet his smile, as his eye
sharply followed the progress, from hand to hand, of the miniature,
had a suspicious cast of investigating whether it would be worth
his while to ask any favour of them in return! and through all the
superb magnificence of his display of courtly manners, a little
bit of the Cossack, methought, broke out, when he desired to know
whether _The Ladies_ wished for any thing else? declaring, with a
smiling bow, and rolling, languishing, yet half contemptuous eyes,
that, if _The Ladies_ would issue their commands, they should strip
him entirely!

“You may suppose, after that, nobody asked for a closer view of
any more of his ornaments! The good, yet unaffectedly humorous
philosopher of Salisbury, could not help laughing, even while
actually blushing at it, that his own curiosity should have
involved _The Ladies_ in this supercilious sort of sarcastic homage.

“There was hardly any looking at the picture of the Empress for the
glare of the diamonds. One of them, I really believe, was as big as
a nutmeg: though I am somewhat ashamed to undignify my subject by
so culinary a comparison.

“When we were all satisfied, the miniature was restored by
General Bawr to the Prince, who took it with stately complacency;
condescendingly making a smiling bow to each fair female who had
had possession of it; and receiving from her in return a lowly
courtesy.

“Mr. Harris, who was the most curious to see the Empress, because
his son, Sir James[45], was, or is intended to be, minister at her
court, had slily looked over every shoulder that held her; but
would not venture, he archly whispered, to take the picture in his
own hands, lest he should be included, by the Prince, amongst _The
Ladies_, as an old woman!

“Have you had enough of this concert, my dear Mr. Crisp? I have
given it in detail, for the humour of letting you see how absorbing
of the public voice is La Gabrielli: and, also, for describing
to you Prince Orloff; a man who, when time lets out facts, and
drives in mysteries, must necessarily make a considerable figure,
good or bad--but certainly not indifferent,--in European History.
Besides, I want your opinion, whether there is not an odd and
striking resemblance in general manners, as well as in Herculean
strength and height, in this Siberian Prince and his Abyssinian
Majesty?”--vol. ii. p. 43-60.

The authoress’s account of the publication of the first volume of Dr. Burney’s History of Music, and its presentation to the Queen, occupies three pages, but contains no new information whatever, except that the Doctor was so delighted by her Majesty’s condescension in receiving the presentation copy, that he thenceforward never omitted to attend the Court on the birth-days. The shortness of this musical article is, however, immediately and fully made up for by an episode of full fifty pages, about Streatham, the Thrales, Dr. Johnson, Piozzi, &c.; in which all that relates to Dr. Burney might be comprised in almost as many words. But the authoress must be forgiven; she evidently wrote these memoirs under at least a double influence, and over her pen

‘_Divisum imperium cum Burney Johnson habet._’

The next episode which the authoress has introduced is one on which we would willingly be silent, and which we heartily wish, for her own sake, she had either omitted, or, at least, curtailed within one tenth the limits to which it is extended. It is the history of the origin, writing, printing, and anonymous publication of the authoress’s first novel, which every patron and patroness of a circulating library still knows is entitled ‘~Evelina~; or, a Young Lady’s Introduction into Life;’ together with the further history of the effect this anonymous novel made, first in the novel reading, and then in the literary world; then the discovery of the authoress, which, curiously enough, seems to have been first made by the Doctor himself; who, by the way, was in the secret of his daughter’s being an authoress; though ignorant whether her maiden production was a spelling book or a homily; then the anonymous triumphs achieved by Evelina over Dr. Johnson, Sir Joshua Reynolds, &c.; then the bashful, half-reluctant consent that Mrs. Thrale, if pleased by reading it, might be admitted into the secret; and, finally, the full meridian blaze of popularity with Honourables and Right Honourables, Doctors, M.P.’s, statesmen, Lords Chancellor, and _bas bleus_, sounding aloft its praises from one end of the English Parnassus to the other. All this occupies fifty goodly pages, closed by an extract from a memorandum book of the Doctor’s, which gives the pith of the story in two,--but in which, singularly enough, the Doctor, though penning a _private_ memorandum, never hints at how or whence he came to the knowledge of the secret. But this is not the worst; the game once started is never allowed to rest,--throughout the remainder of the volume scarce a conversation is reported which does not contain some well-turned compliment (always from some leading character) to _Evelina_ and its _authoress_. At a bas-bleu meeting Mr. Soame Jenyns stands up, and delivers a regular eulogium on _Evelina_ and its _authoress_. Sir Joshua Reynolds gives a dinner, to introduce to each other (we hardly know which to place in the first rank of celebrity, so follow the rule of _Plâce aux Dames_) the _Authoress_ of _Evelina_ and the Right Honourable Edmund Burke. At this dinner the following remarks were made, and are detailed by the authoress herself:--

“There has been,” Mr. Burke then, smilingly, resumed, “an age
for all excellence; we have had an age for statesmen; an age for
heroes; an age for poets; an age for artists;--but This,” bowing
down, with an air of obsequious gallantry, his head almost upon the
table cloth, “This is the age for women!”