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TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF L, A. a BOMBET, WITH NOTES, BY THE AUTHOR OF THE SACRED MELODIES. LONDQX: JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE-STltEET. 1817 Printed hy W. Lewis, St. John's-square, London. TABLE OF CONTENTS. TRANSLATOR'S Preface. Author's Preface. LETTER L Description of Haydn's residence; — of his appearance in his old age; — of Vienna, and the Prater; — character of the society of Vienna ; — of the women; — political discussion prohibited fey the government; — general state of manners favourable to music. LETTER n. Sources of the author's information ; — vocal music chiefly studied before Haydn ; — Lulli first introduces Overtures ; — An- cient Instruments in the Ceiia di San Giorgio by Paul Veronese ; — Troubadours ; — Viadana ; — Orchestra of the Odeon ; — Rameau ; — Bad taste in music and Painting ; — Remark of Montesquieu on the connoisseurs; — French autliors of the present day aim at singularity ; — their music tiresome ; — different character of the Italian; — Scarlatti's overtures, imitated by Corelli, Porpora, and others ; — improved by San Martini, Jomelli and otliers ; — Quar- letts of CoreUi, and Gassman ; — Pleyel ; — Beethoven ; — and Mozart. LETTER IIL Birth of Haydn ; — his father a cart-wright, and sexton of the village ; — their family concerts ; — Haydn's first instructor, Frank ; — learns to play on the tambourine ; — sings at the parish A 2 iv CONTENTS. church; — visit ol' Reiiter; — Haydn learns to shake; — anecdote of the eherries ; — goes witli Reiiter to Vienna ; — his early appli- cation and fondness for music ; — advantages of the musical com- poser ; — amateurs ; — advice to sentimental ladies ; — Italian sensi- bility to music ; — Pacchiaroti ; — anecdote. LETTER IV. Concertos censured ; — Haydn's first mass ; — his extreme poverty ; — Courses of Literature ; — Haydn teaches himself coun- terpoint ;—Porpora ; — Haydn seeks to ingratiate himself with him — learns from Porpora the Italian style of singing — gradual developement of his genius. LETTER V. Haydn expelled from St. Stephen's ; — is received by Keller, tlie peruke-maker ; — engages to his daughter ; — his first productions ; — nocturnal serenades ; — adventure witli Curtz ; tempest in the Diable Boiteux ; — composes six trios ; — clamour raised against them ; — lodges in the same house with Metastasio ; — enters the service of count Mortzin ; — introduction to prince Esterhazy ; — is engaged by him ; — composes for the baryton ; — marries Ann Keller ; — ma- demoiselle Eoselli. LETTER VI. Regular distribution of Haydn's time ; — character of his works; — his quartetts — compared to a conversation; — his symphonies — andantes — allegros — minuets; — remark of Mozart on mo- dern comic operas; — reason why the French do not excel in music. CONTENTS. V LETTER VIT. Anecdote of the young Italian at the Borromean isles; — comparison of the French, and Italian character ; — French con- versation ; — cafe de Foi ; — saloon of madame du Deffant ; — French colonists ;— difference between the Frenchman and the Italian. LETTER VIIL Situation of the author ; — instrumental music more cultivated than vocal ; — a taste for the fine arts may be acquired ; — anec- dote ; — Haydn*s opinion of the importance of melody ; — hymn sung by the charity-children at St. Paul's; — madame Barilli; — Lazza- roni ; — good singing difficult to be defined ; — use of discords ; — first discovered by Monteverde, and Scarlatti; — Mozart too free in his modulations ; — discords in music like chiaro-scuro in paint- ing ; — Haydn collects the national airs of different countries ; — strolling Neapolitan musicians ; — Lionardo da Vinci ; — Haydn's mode of composition ; — his attention to his dress ; — neatness with which he wrote ; — takes some little history as the subject of his symphonies ; — Haydn compared to Titian ; — scene of Orestes, in Gluck's Iphigenia ; — San Martini; — Haydn's secret of compo- sition ; — Sarti. LETTER IX. Anecdote of Jomelli ; — the abbe Speranza ; — Zingarelli ; — Haydn's style ; — advantages of instrumental music over vocal ; — Gluck's Orpheus and Eurydice ; — ballet of Prometheus ; — Paesi- ello and Sarti ; — judicious distiibution of the parts in a symphony, like harmony of colouring in painting ; — Correggio — Carravaggio — Caracci — Mozart the La Fontaine of music. A 3 vi CONTENTS. LETTER X. Thb Seven Words; — ceremony of the eiitierro, at Madrid ;— Michael Haydn ; — sacred sympiionies ; — Correggio the inventor of chiaro-scuro. LETTER XT. Haydn naturally gay and lively ; — different habits of societj at Paris and at Vienna ; — comic music ; — Merula ; — Marcello — Jomelli — Galuppi — Father Martini — Clementi— Porpora ; — trills ; — Haydn's comic pieces; — the departure ;— the toy symphony; — the surprise. LETTER XIL Hayun's vocal music ; — his operas ; — inferior in the department of melody to other masters; — character of his genius;— Haydn the Claude Lorraine of music ; — Cimarosa the Rapliael ; — pleasure given by nnisic, diflerent from that derived from paiuting ; — in what respects. LETTER XIIL Melody ; — Matrimonio segreto ; — Melody the test of geniu.'* in music ; — Cluck ; — scene of Orestes' and the Furies ; — Corneille's ijn'il mourut ; — Naples the country of all the great melodists ; — character of the music of Germany ; — of Flanders ; — of France; — of England ; — of Russia ; — of Spain ; — of tlie East ; — of Italy ; — the instrumental part subordinate to the vocal in the operas of that country; — operas of Haydn deficient in melody; — the harmo- nist ranked with the landscape-painter ; — the melodist with the painter of history ; — Claude Lorraine and Raphael. CONTENTS. >V LETTER XIV. The Neapolitan school of music; — Scarlatti ; — Porpora ; — Leo; — Durante ; — Vinci ; — Pergolese ; — Hasse ; — Jomelli ; — Pe- rez ;— Traetta ;— Sacchini; — Bach ; — Piccini ;— Paesiello ;— Gugli- elmi ; — Anfossi ; — epochas of the principal composers, LETTER XV. Veneration due to departed genius ; — Petrarch ; — Cixnarosa ;— • Haydn composed with diflSculty ; — similar in this respect to Ariosto; — singular arrangements made by several composers; — by Gluck ; — by Sarti ; — Cimarosa; — Sacchini ; — Paesiello ;— Zinga- relli ; — Haydn ; — death of prince Nicholas Esterhazy ; — pieces of LuUi and Rameau sent to Haydn as models by a Parisian ama- teur; 7— death of mademoiselle Boselli; — Haydn's first visit to London, in 1790; — anecdotes of his residence there; — ancient concert; — second journey of Haydn to London, in 1794; — his engagement with Gallini ;— Mrs, Billington ;— his portrait taken by Reynolds ; — receives a diploma from Oxford: — Canon cancri- zans ; — Haydn returns home ;— state of his fortune. LE^ITER XVL Masses of Haydn ; — Gregorian and Ambrosian chants ; — Guido Aretino ; — Palestrina ; — early authors in music and painting supe- rior in genius to many who have produced more pleasing works ; — Durante; — Haydn observes a medium in his sacred music be- tween the ancient and the modern Italian style ; — French senti- ment ; — anecdote of Farinelli and Senesino ; — musical sheep of the Borrottiean isles ; — character of Haydn's masses ;^tTue object of sacred music ;— attained by Haydn. A 4 ▼m Contents. LETTER XVII. Introduction to the Creation. LETTER XVIII. Sublime geninsses compared to lofty mountains ; — Moliere;— oratorio of Tobias ; — Haydn's veneration for Handel ; — character of Handel's music ; — details respecting the oratorio ; — Zingarelli'i Destruction of Jerusalem ; — baion Von Swieten ; — first perform- ance of the Creation, in 1798, at prince Schwartzenberg's ;— on the physical imitation of nature by music ; — Melani's Padestk di Coloniola; — Gluck's Pilgrim of Mecca; — Marcello's Calisto ; — sentimental imitation ; — Matrimonio segreto; — Letter of Othilia. from Goethe ; — descriptive music ; — Critique on the Creation ; — Chaos ;— creation of light; — fall of the angels; — creation of the thunder, hail, snow, &c.— creation of the waters ;~of the plants, &c. ; — rising of the sun ;— of the moon ; — finale of the first part ; — creation of the birds; — of the animals;— of Adam; — of Eve; — last part of the Creation. LETTER XIX. Success of the Creation ; — explosion of the infernal machine at Paris ;— translations of the text of the Creation ; — critique of it continued ; — number of instruments and voices necessary t» give a proper idea of it ;— taste in music dependant on our asso- ciations; — moments of the most lively pleasure, or pain, leave no distinct traces in the memory ; — illustrations of this idea ; — of beauty in music, and of ideal beauty in general ;— melody the department of genius; — harmony less affected by the changes of public taste ; — citation from the Spectator ; — tlie German and Italian contrasted ; — Dutch taste in female beauty ; — Parisian taste; — change in the French character during the last thirty years. * CONTENTS. ix Fragment of the Reply to the preceding. Subject of ideal beauty continued ; — Canova ; — advantages «njoyed by the scupltor over the musician ; — Italy the most favoured «ountry for music. LETTER XX. Oratorio of the Four Seasons ; — advantages arising from the variations of taste in different countries ; — modern French drama; — critical examination of the Four Seasons ; — Haydn's own remark upon this work ; — adventures of Stradella and Hortensia ; — compa- rison of the principal musicians and painters. LETTER XXL Last years of Haydn ; — mass performed for him by the French institute ; — celebration of his birth-day at the house of prince Lobkowitz ;— affecting circumstances attending it ; — he takes a final leave of the public. LETTER XXIL Extreme weakness of Haydn in his 78th year ;— siege of Vienna by the French ; — death of Haydn ; — his religious feeling ;— hi» heir ; — his epitaph ; — composers of the present day. Catalogue of Haydn's Works. The Life of Mozart. Letter on the Genius of Metastasio. On the present State of Music in Italy. ADDITIONAL NOTES. On Melody, 200. On llioronj,!) Bass, 51. 348. Oil ilie Plumun Voice, 124. On the Insliuclive Tones, 221. On tjiiifiing, 464. On Accent, SoU. On the different Kejs, 98. On the Colour oltlie instruments, 255. On the Powers of the Orchestra, 230. On the Italian and (lerman Music, 252. On English Music, IG5. On a National School, 171. On the Philljarnuuiic Society, 35. 192. On the Improveuiont of the Art, 2. On the Tronihone, 15. On the PiantHtone, 106. Descrijition of Haydn's Canzonetts, 150. Creation, 103. 261. Cliaos, 247. Rising of the Sun, 266. Leviathan, 258. n ild Beasts, 265. Sinfouias, 18C. C!oinic ditto, 144. . — ■ Ariadne, 153. . t)rpheus, 194. Masses, 215. • Beethoven's Sinfonia, 115. Quarletts, 64. . ,. , Mount of Olives, 205, Mozart's Operas, 301. • Requiem, 403- TRANSLATOR S PREFACE. THE Public are here presented with a work for their amusement. Independently of the interest with whic^ musical men will always regard whatever relates to names so eminent in their art as those of Mozart and Haydn^ the general reader will find, in the following- pages^ a A^ariety of anecdote, and an elegance of criti- cism, on all subjects connected with the fine arts, which can scarcely fail to gratify him. The epistolary form of the work is stated, in the short preface which precedes it, to have arisen from its having been originally written to satisfy the enquiries, of a friend at Paris, without any intention of publication ; as the frequent allusions to the private circumstances and feelings of the author, and the nume- rous digressions and criticisms in which he indulges, sufficiently shew. He appears to XII have been driven from France by the storms of the Revolution^ and to have resided in Germany and Italy, during an exile of twenty years. He asserts, at the commencement of Letter II., that he received the information which he has given respecting Haydn, from his own lips, or from those of his intimate friends ; and in a note at the close of his narrative, (page 117) he declares that he is prepared to verify his statements, if called in question. It may be further satisfactory to the reader to state that, in all the principal facts, his relation agrees with the Historical Notice of the Life and Works of Haydn, read before the French Institute, October 6, 1810, by M. Le Breton. The Memoir on Mozart was originally pub- lished in Germany, w here the accuracy of the facts referred to, must have been generally known. The Translator is not aware that any equally authentic account of these celebrated com- posers has yet appeared in this country. The object of the Letter on the Genius of % Xlll Metastasio is to shew that the merits of the Poet of Music have not been duly appre- ciated. In the opinion of his superiority to Petrarch, the author is supported by M. Sis- mondi ; but it will probably be thought that his enthusiasm has carried him too far, when he asserts that his favourite has occasionally surpassed Anacreon, and Horace. The letter on the present state of music in France and Italy, contains a brief account of the most distinguished composers, and vocal performers, of the present day, and is further interesting from the observations made on the different character of the two nations, in the same style of lively and judicious criticism, as prevails in the former part of the work. Of the Notes, such as are without signa- ture are found in the original. To these the Translator has added others, marked by the letter T, which are for the most part expla- natory, though he has occasionally animad- verted on certain opinions of the author, which appeared to him erroneous. But the greater part are by a gentleman, whose taste in music has alreadv been exhi- XIV bited to thepublic in the ''Sacked Melodies; ' a work, published under the most illustrious patronage, and which, it is to be hoped, will, ere long;, succeed in its object of ba- nishing; the barbarous ditties of Sternhold and Hopkins from our churches. Of the sub- jects of many of these Notes, the Translator is not a competent judge ; but to those who, like himself, find great pleasure in music, without much practical acquaintance with it, he presumes they will often be found to con- vey useful information ; and to those possess- ing a more scientific knowledge of it, they will, occasionally, supply materials for curious and amusing speculation. To all these the initial letter G is attached. The Translator is sensible that the office he has undertaken is one, which, while it is jexposed equally with the higher branches of literary occupation, to criticism, is attended with little credit, even when successful. The knowledge of the French language is now so generally difi'used in this country, that some persons may be disposed to question the necessity of a translation, altogether. But XV there are manyj who, thoiio^h they possess a general acquaintance with the language^, are not sufficiently familiar with its musical phraseology, to read a work on that subject with pleasure. There are, also, a still greater number, in the middle class of society, with whom music is rather an amusement, than an accomplishment, and whose information in the other branches of polite education is by no means in the same proportion ; while those who are professedly devoted to the art, are commonly so absorbed by it, as comparatively to neglect all other subjects. It was for one of these Pazzi per Musica, that the present work was translated, and it is now published, merely because it is presumed to contain more musical information, in a po- pular form, than is to be met with in any other book of a size equally moderate. THE AUTHOR S PREFACE. I WAS at Vienna in 1808, whence I wrote to a friend some letters respecting the cele- brated Haydn, whose acquaintance an acci- dental occurrence had fortunately procured for me, eight or ten years before. On my return to Paris, I found that my lettters had acquired some celebrity ; and that pains had been taken to obtain copies of them. I am thus tempted to become an author, and fairly to shew myself in print. I accordingly add a few illustrations, I remove some repe- titions, and present myself to the friends of music, in the form of a small octava. LETTERS ON THE CELEBRATED COMPOSER HJIYBN, LETTER 1. To M. Louis DE Lech . . . ; Vienna, April 5, 1808; Mv Friend, Jl our favourite Haydn, that great man, whose name sheds so bright a splendour iti the temple of harmony, is still living; but he exists no longer as an artist. At the extremity of one of the suburbs of Vienna, on the side of the imperial park df Schbnbriinn, you find, near the barrier of Maria Hilff, a small unpaved street, so little frequented that it is covered with grass. About the middle of this street rises an hurri- 2 ble dwelling', surrounded by perpetual silence : it is there, and not in the palace Esterhazy, as you suppose, and as in fact he might if he wished, that the father of instrumental music resides ; — one of the men of genius of the eighteenth century, the golden age of music. Cimarosa, Haydn, and Mozart, have but just quitted the scene of the world. Their immortal works are still performed, but soon will they be laid aside : other musicians will be in fashion, and we shall fall altogether into the darkness of mediocrity.* * We by no means coincide in this opinion with our au- thor; on the contrary, we consider the modern music to be formed upon principles, which will ever preserve it from the oblivion which he apprehends. It is the fate of the arts to have their ages of mediocrity. Men of inferior talent may dazzle for a time, but they disappear, and exhibit true genius in greater splendour. Haydn is unquestionably the greatest musical genins that has ever appeared. He is not only the founder of the modern art, but the most perfect of all modem authors. His peculiar excellence lies in that unity of design, and felicity of execution, which we look for in vain in other 3 These ideas always occupy my mind when I approach the peaceful dwelling where Haydn reposes. You knock at the door : it is opened to you with a cheerful smile by a worthy little old woman^ his housekeeper ; you ascend a short flight of wooden stairs, and find in the composers. In his works we meet with nothing which we wish to remove, or amend. Though learned, he is always intelligible, and the impassioned melody which pervades his compositions, never fails powerfully to interest the feelings. In short, it is from him that we acquire the most correct ideas of musical taste, and perfection ; and as his music is founded upon the instinctive tones of our nature, (see note, Letter XVI.) we have no fear that it will ever be lost, while human feelings remain. Nor can we imagine the art is on the decline, while so great a genius as Beethoven lives. This author, though less perfect in other respects than Haydn, exceeds him in power of imagination ; and, from recent specimens of his un- Ijounded fancy, it is to be expected that he will extend the art in a way never contemplated even by Haydn or Mozart. If we were inclined to push our speculations farther upon this point, we might refer to the very extraordinary dis- coveries that are now making in Russia, in the department of instrumental music. In the course of twenty years it is probable that such effects will be produced in that country as will lead to the most important results in the science of sounds. G. B 2 second chamber of a very simple apartment^, a tranquil old man, sitting at a desk^ absorbed in the melancholy sentiment that life is es- caping from him, and so complete a nonentity with respect to every thing besides, that he stands in need of visitors to recall to him what he has once been. When he sees any one enter, a pleasing smile appears upon his lips, a tear moistens his eyes, his countenance re- covers its animation, his voice becomes clear, he recognizes his guest, and talks to him of his early years, of which he has a much better recollection than of his later ones : you think that the artist still exists; but, soon, he re- lapses before your eyes into his habitual state of lethargy and sadness. The Haydn all tire, so exuberant and ori- ginal, who, when seated at his piano-forte created musical wonders, and in a few mo- ments warmed and transported every heart with delicious sensations — has disappeared from the world. The butterfly, of which Plato speaks, has spread its bright wings to heaven, and has left here below only the gross larva, under which it appeared to our eyes. I g'Oj from time to time^ to visit' these cherished remains of a great man, to stir these asheSj still warm with the fire of Apollo ; and, if I succeed in discovering some spark not yet entirely extinct, I go away with a mind filled with emotion and melancholy. This/ then, is all that remains of one of the greatest geniuses that have existed ! Cadono le citta, cadono i regni, E Tuom d'esser mortale par die si sdegni. This/ my dear Louis, is all I can tell you, with truth, of the celebrated man, respecting whom you make such urgent enquiries. But to you, who love the music of Haydn, and who are desirous of knowing it, 1 can give other details than those which relate merely to his person. My residence here, and the society which I see, give me also a further opportunity of writing to you at length con- cerning this distinguished composer, whose music is performed at this day, from Mexico to Calcutta, from Naples to London, from the suburb of Pera to the saloons of Paris. Vienna is a charming city. Represent to yourself an assemblage of palaces, and very B 3 neat houses, inhabited by the most opulent families of one of the greatest monarchies of Europe ; by the only noblemen to whom that title may still be with justice applied. The city of Vienna, properly so called, contains seventy-two thousand inhabitants, and is sur- rounded by fortifications which now serve only as agreeable walks : but, fortunately, in order to leave room for the efl'ect of cannon, which are no longer to be found, a space of twelve hundred yards has been reserved all round the town, on which it has been prohibited to build. This space, as you may suppose, is covered with turf, and with avenues of trees crossing each other in all directions. Beyond this verdant inclosure are the thirty-two faux- bourgs of Vienna, in which live one hundred and seventy thousand inhabitants of all classes. The majestic Danube borders the central town on one side, and separates it from the faux- bourg of Leopoldstadt. In one of its islands is situated the famous Prater^ the finest pro- menade in the world, which, when compared with the Tuilleries, with Hyde Park, or with the Prado of Madrid, is what the view of the 7 Bay of Naples from the house of the hermit on Mount Vesuvius is, in comparison with all the other prospects that are boasted of else- where. The isle of the Prater, fertile as are all the islands of large rivers^, is covered with superb trees, which appear still more noble from their situation. This island, which every where displays nature in all her majesty, presents you at one time with avenues of chesnut-trees in magnificent lines ; and, at another, with the wild aspects of the most solitary forests. It is traversed by a hundred winding paths, and when you arrive on the banks of the Danube, which you suddenly find under your feet, the eye is again charmed by the Leopoldsberg, the Kalemberg, and other picturesque elevations which appear in the distance. This garden of Vienna, the effect of which is not injured by the presence of any of the labours of mechanic industry painfully occupied in the pursuit of gain, and where the forest is only occasionally broken by a few meadows, is six miles long and four and a half broad. I know not whether the idea be singular, but to me, this superb Prater b4 8^ has always appeared an apt image of the genius of liaydn. In this central Vienna^ the winter residence of the t^sterhazys, the Palfys, the Trautmans- dorfFs^ and of so many other noble families, surrounded by an almost regal pomp, there i^ not that brilliant display of mind, which was to be found in the saloons of Paris before our stupid revolution ; nor has reason raised her altars there as at London, A certain re- straint, which forms a part of the prudent policy of the house of Austria, has inclined the people to pleasures of a more sensual Hind, which are less troublesome to a govern- nfient. The house of Austria has had frequent relations with Italy, a part of which it pos- sesses, and many of its princes have been born there. All the nobility of Lombardy repair to Vienna to solicit employments, and music is become the ruling passion of its iu^iabitants. JMetastasio lived fifty years among them ;* it was for them that he composed * Metastasio was born in 1G98. He went to Vienna in 1730, and lived there till 1782. those charming operas, which our petty lite- rati of the school of La Harpe, take for imperfect tragedies. The women here are attractive ; a brilliant complexion adorns an elegant form: the natural, but sometimes languishing and tiresome air of the ladies of the north of Germany, is here mingled with a little coquetry and address, the effect of the presence of a numerous court. In a word, at Vienna, as at Venice in former times, politics, and abstract reasoning on possible improve- ments, being prohibited, pleasure has taken possession of every heart. I know not whe- ther that interest of manners, of which so much is said, finds its account in this; but it is certain, that nothing can be more favour- able to music* The enchantress has pre- * This observation only goes to prove generally, that where the higher objects of human pursuit are withdrawn, inferior ones will be sought after in their stead. We should be sorry to believe that depravity of morals is ne- cessarily connected with a good taste in music ; nor do we apprehend any such result in this country, so long as Englishmen maintain, with watchful jealousy, those poli- tical rights by which they have been far more gloriously 2 10 vailed here, even over German hauteur. The most distinguished of the nobility are directors of the three theatres where music is per- formed. It is they, likewise, who are at the head of the Musical Society, and some of them expend from eight to ten thousand francs a year, in promoting the interest of the arts. The Italians may be more sensible to the fine arts, but it must be confessed that they are far from meeting with such encou- ragement amongst them. Accordingly, a vil- lage, a few leagues distant from Vienna, pro- duced Haydn : Mozart was born at a little distance farther, towards the mountains of the Tyrol ; and it was at Prague, that Cimarosa composed his Matrimonio segreto. distiDguished, than by any splendour which music or painting can bestow. Reason, we trust, will still have her altars, not only in the metropolis, but in every part of the island ; nor shall we forget, that however delightful the fine arts may be as ornaments, they are miserable sub- stitutes for freedom and virtue. T. 11 LETTER II. Vienna, ^prill5, ISOQ. Thank heaven, my dear Louis, I pass much of my time in the musical parties, which are so frequent here. It is the union of the agreeable circumstances mentioned in my last, which has at length tixed my wan- dering lot at Vienna, and conducted to the port Me peregrine errante, e fra gli scogli, E fra I'onde agitato, e quasi assorto. I have good authorities for every thing that I may say to you respecting Haydn. I have received his history in the first instance from himself, and, in the next, from persons who have associated most with him during the different periods of his life. I will mention the baron Von-Swieten, professor Frihert, pro- fessor Pichl, the violoncello Bertoja, counsel- lor Griesenger, professor Weigli M. Martinez, 6 12 and mademoiselle de Kurtzberg, the intel- ligent pupil and friend of Haydn, and the faithful copyist of his music. You will par- don these details ; they relate to one of those geniuses^ whose powers have been exclu- sively employed in increasin«^ the pleasures of the world, and in furnishing additional recreations from its sufterings ; geniuses truly sublime, yet to whom the stupid crowd pre- fer men, who gain to themselves a reputa- tion, by setting some thousands of these miserable fools by the ears. The musical Parnassus already reckoned upon its lists a great number of celebrated composers, when an Austrian village gave birth to the creator of symphony. The ge- nius and studies of the predecessors of Haydn, had been directed to the vocal part, which, in fact, forms the basis of the pleasures which music affords; they employed instru- ments only as an agreeable accessory : like the landscape parts of an historical picture, or the ornaments in architecture. Music was a moutarchy : the air reigned absolute ; the accompaniments were only sub- IS jects. That description of music into which the human voice does not enter, that re- public of different yet connected sounds, in which each instrument in turn attracts the attention, was scarcely known at the end of the seventeenth century. It was Lulli, I think, who invented the symphonies which we call overtures : but even in these sympho- nies, as soon as the Jiigued passage* ceased, the monarchy was again perceived. The violin part contained the whole of the air, and the other instruments served as an accompaniment, as they are still used in vocal music with respect to the soprano. * The fugue is a species of music, in which an air, called the subject, is treated according to certain rules, by making it to pass successively, and alternately, from one part to another, as in the well-known canon of JSon nobis Domine. Every body has heard Dussek play on the piano the variations of Marlbrong, or of the air Charmante Ga- hrielle. In this inferior sort of music, the primitive air, which is spoiled by so much pretension, is what is called the theme, the subject, the motif. It is in this sense that the words are employed here. 14 the lenore, and the contralto, to which alon« the musical idea, or the melody, is con- fided. Symphonies, therefore, were only an air played by the violin, instead of being sung by an actor. The learned will tell you that the Greeks, and afterwards the Romans, had no other instrumental music : at least, it is certain, that none was known in Europe, before the symphonies of Lulli, but that which is necessary for dancing ; and even this imperfect music, in which one part only executed the melody, was performed in Italy with but a small number of instruments. Paul Veronese has preserved to us the form of those which were in use in his time, in the famous " Cena di San Giorgio/' which is at once the largest, and the most pleasing picture in the Museum of Paris. In the fore- ground, in the vacant space of the semi-circle formed by the table, at which the guests of the marriage of Cana are seated, Titian is playing on the double bass, Paul Veronese and Tiutoret on the violoncello, a man with a cross on his breast is playing on the violin. IS Bassano is blowing the flute^ and a Turkish slave the sackbut.* When the composer desired a louder mu- sic, he added to these instruments straight trumpets. The organ was generally played by itself. The greater part of the instru- ments employed by the Troubadours of Pro- vence, were never known out of France, and did not survive the fifteenth century. At length, Viadana,f having discovered thorough * This ancient instrument, which is frequently men- tioned in the sacred writings, might have been lost to us for ever, had it not been preserved in the ashes of Mount Vesuvius, to give force and energy to the music of modern times. When the cities of Herculaneum and Pompeii were discovered, one of these instruments was dug up, after having been buried nearly two thousand years by that dreadful catastrophe. The lower part of it is made of bronze, and the upper, with the mouth-piece, of solid gold. The King of Naples made a present of it to his present majesty ; and from this antique, the instruments, now called by the Italians Tromboni, have been fashioned. In quality of tone it has not been equalled by any of modern make ; and perhaps it has done more towards augmenting the sublime effects of the orchestra, than any one of the known instruments. G. t Born at Lodi, in the Milanese ; he was maitre de ch(h pelle at Mantua, in 1644, 16 basSj aad music making daily progress in Italy, violins, then called viols, gradually su- perseded the other instruments; and, about the middle of the seventeenth century, the composition of the orchestra was the same as at the present day. Doubtless, at this period, those whose feel- ings Avere most alive to music, did not ima- gine, even in their most delightful reveries, such an assemblage as the admirable or- chestra of the Odeon, formed of so great a number of instruments, all yielding souiids graduated in a manner so gratifying to the ear, and played with such complete unity of eifect. The finest overture of LuUi, as per- formed before Louis XIV., surrounded by his court, would make you run to the other end of Paris. This brings to my mind some German and French composers, who have attempted, in our day, to give us the same sort of pleasure, by the beating of kettle- drums ; but this is no longer the fault of the orchestra. Each of the performers who com- pose that of the opera, taken individually, plays very well ; they are only too skilful ; it 17 is this which gives these barbarous composers the power of tormenting' our ears. These authors forget, that in the arts nothing endures but that which always pleases. It was easy for them to seduce that numerous portion of the public who find no direct en- joyment in music, and who only seek in it, as in the other fine arts, for an opportunity of speechifying and going into extasies. These insensible fine-talkers have misled some real amateurs ; but all this episode in the history of music, will soon return to the obli- vion wliich it merits, and the works of the great masters of the present day will, in fifty years, keep faithful company with those of Rameau, whom, fifty years since, we admired so much : and yet Rameau had pilfered, in Italy, a considerable number of charming airs, which were not entirely smothered by his barbarous art. For the rest, the sect of musicians who torment you at Paris, and of whom you complain so loudly in your letter, has existed from remote antiquity : it is the natural pro- duct of much patience, joined to a cold heart. 18 and an unlucky notion of applying' to the arts. The same description of people annoy painting : it was they, who, after Vasari, in- undated Florence with cold designers, and who are the pest of your school of the present day. In the time of Metastasio, the German musicians sought to overpower the singers by the instruments : and these again, desirous of recovering their empire, set themselves to make 'Vocal concertos, as that great poet was w6nt to say. It was thus, that, by a total per- version of taste, the voices, imitating the in- struments which sought to overpower them, we heard Agujari, Marchesi* Marsa, Ga- brieUijf Dcmzi, Mrs. Billington, and other singers of great talent, transform their voices into a flageolet, set the instruments at defi- * The divine Marcliesi, born at Milan, about 1755. Never again will Sarti's rondeau, " Mia Speranza," be sung as he sang it. t The Gabrielli, born at Rome in 1730, a pupil of Por- pora and Metastasio, so noted for her astonishing capricci. When I was young, the old people still talked of the style in which she sung at Lucca, in 1745, with Guadagni, who was then her loveV.^' ' ''''•<^'. ,'.• i.)iiK;| jI .!. 19 ance, and surpass them in the difficulty and singularity of their passages. The poor ama- teurs were obliged to wait for their gratifica- tion^ till these divine talents were tired of shewing off. Pursued by the instruments, their singing in the bravura airs possessed only one of two things which are essential to the fine arts, to please in which, it is necessary that the imitation of impassioned nature should be united in the spectator, with a feeling of the difficulty overcome. When the last alone is displayed, the minds of the audience remain unmoved, and though they may be incited for a moment, by the vanity of appearing connoisseurs in music, they are like those good-natured people of whom Montesquieu speaks, who, while yawning enough to dis- locate their jaws, pulled each other by the sleeve, to say, " Heavens, how we are amused ! how fine that is !"* It is owing to beauties of this kind that our music is in a state of such rapid declension. Lettres Persaanes. e 2 20 In France, in music, as well as in literature, it is the pride ot" an author to astonish by an uncommon phrase : the good folks do not perceive that the author has said nothing : think there is something singular in the thing, and applaud ; but after having duly ap- plauded two or three of these singularities, they begin to gape; and, in this melancholy mood, end all our concerts. Hence arises the opinion which prevails in countries where the music is bad, that it is impossible to listen to any for more than two hours together, without being tired to death. At Naples, — at Rome, amongst genuine ama- teurs, where the music is well chosen, it charms without difficulty for a whole evening. I have only to refer to the agreeable concerts of Madame la D. L . . . . ; and I am sure of being supported in my assertion by all those who have had the happiness to be admitted to them. To return to the rather dry history of in- strumental music, I would remind you, that the invention of Lulli, though well suited to the object which he had in view, which was 21 to open, with pomp, a theatrical represen- tation, had so few imitators, that, for a length of time, his symphonies were performed in Italy before the operas of the greatest masters, who were not willing to take the trouble of composing overtures; and these masters were Vinci, Leo, and the divine Pergolesi. Old Scarlatti was the first who brought out over- tures in his way : they had great success, and he was imitated by Corelli, Perez, Porpora, Carcano, Bononcini, &c. All these sympho- nies, like those of Lulli, were composed of a violin part, a bass, and nothing more. The first who introduced three parts, were Sammartini, Palladini, old Bach Gasparini, Tartini, and Jomelli. It was only occasion- ally that they attempted not to give move- ment to all the parts. Such were the faint gleams which an- nounced to the world the sun of instrumental music. Corelli had composed duets, Gassmann quatuors ; but a cursory glance at these stiff, learned, and ice-cold compositions, will be suflftcient to satisfy us, that Haydn is the true inventor of si/mphon^ : and not only did he c 3 33 invent this kind of music, but he carried it to such a degree of perfection, that liis sucessors must avail themselves of his labours, or re- lapse into barbarism. Experience has already shewn the truth of this bold assertion. Pleyel has diminished the number of chords, and been sparing- of transitions; his works are deficient in strength and dignity. When Beethoven and Mozart himself have accumulated notes and ideas ; when they have sought after variety and singularity of modu- lation, their learned symphonies, full of re- search, have produced no efl'ect; but when they have followed the steps of Haydn, they have touched every heart. 23 LETTER III. ' Natura il fece, e poi ruppi la stampa. Nature made him, and then broke the mould. Ariosto. Vienna, May 24, 1808. Francis Joseph Haydn was born on the last day of Marchj 1732^ at Rohrau, a small town^ fifteen leag;ues distant from Vienna. His fa- ther was a cartwright ; and his mother, be- fore her marriage, had been cook in the family of Count Harrach, the lord of the village. The father of Haydn united to his trade of a cartwright, the office of parish sexton. He had a fine tenor voice, was fond of his organ, and of music in general. On one of those journies, which the artisans of Germany often undertake, being at Frankfort-on-the- Mayne, he learned to play a little on the harp: and in holidays, after church, he used to take his instrument, and his wife sung. The birth of Joseph did not alter the habits t 4 24 of this peaceful family. The little domestic concert returned every week^ and the child, standing" befor and falling to pieces in all parts, he was still happy. The days and years flew on rapid wing, and he has often said, that he never enjoyed such felicity at any other period of his life. Haydn's ruling passion was rather the love of music than the love of glory : and even in his desire of glory, not a shadow of ambition was to be found. In composing music, he sought rather his own gratification, than to furnish himself with the means of acquiring celebrity. Haydn did not learn recitative oi Porpora, as you have been told ; the inferiority of his recitatives to those of the inventor of this kind of music, is a suflicient proof of this ; but he learned from him the true Italian style of singing, and the art of accompanying on the piano-forte, which is not so easy a thing 39 as is commonly supposed. He succeeded in obtaining these lessons in the following v/ay. A noble Venetian, named Corner, at that time resided at Vienna, as ambassador from the republic. He had a mistress, passionately fond of musiCj who had harboured old Por- pora * in the hotel of i\\e embassy. Haydn found means to get introduced into the fa- mily, purely on account of his love of music. f He was approved of; and his excellency took him, with his mistress and Porpora, to the baths of ManensdorfF, which were the fa- shionable resort at that time. Our young man, who cared for nobody but the old Neapolitan, employed all sorts of devices to get into his good graces, and to obtain his harmonic favours. Every day he rose early, beat the old man's coat, cleaned his shoes, and disposed, in the best order, * Born at Naples in 1685. I subjoin the epochas of some great artists, of whom I shall often speak. Pergolese, born 1704, died 1733. Cimerosa, — 1754, — 18U1. Mozart, — 1756, — 1792. t En sa qualite de melomane. D 4 40 the antique perHwiof for the old fellow^ who was sour beyond all that can be imagined. He obtained at first nothing* but the courteous salutation of " fool/' or ''blockhead/' when he entered his room in a morning. But the bear seeing himself served gratuitously, and ob- serring, at the same time, the rare qualities of his Toluntary lackey, suffered himself occa- sionally to soften, and gave him some good advice. Haydu was favoured with it more especially, whenever he had to accompany the fair WUhelmina, in singing some of the airs of Porpora, which were filled with basses diffi' cult to understand. Joseph learned in this house to sing in the best Italian taste. The ambassador, astonished at the progress of this poor young man^ gave him, when he re- turned to the city, a monthly pension of six sequins,* and admitted him to the table of his secretaries. This generosity rendered Haydn independent. He was able to purchase a black suit. Thus attired, he went, at day-^ * About £Z sterling. 41 break, to take the part of first violin at the clmi^ch of the Fathers of the order of Mercy ; from thence he repaired to the chapel of count Haugwitz, where he played the organ : at a later hour, he sung the tenor part at St. Stephen's. Lastly, after having been on foot the whole day, he passed a part of the night at the harpsichord. Thus forming him- self by the precepts of all the musical men whom he could scrape an acquaintance, seiz- ing every opportunity of hearing music that was reputed good, and having no fixed masteri he began to form his own concep- tions of what was fine in music, and prepared himself, without being aware, to form, on« ^ay, a style entirely his own. trat 4^2 LETTER V. Baden, August 28, 1808, My Friend, The ravages of time extended their influ- ence to the little fortune of Haydn. His voice broke ; and, at the age of nineteen, he quitted the class of Soprani at St. Stephen's ; or, to speak more correctly, and not to fall all at once into the style of panegyric, he was expelled from it. Being" a little mis- chievous, like all lively young people, he one day took it into his head to cut off the skirt of one of his comrade's gowns, a crime which was deemed unpardonable. He had sung at St. Stephen's eleven years ; and, on the day of his expulsion, his only fortune consisted in his rising talent, a poor resource when it is unknown. He, nevertheless, had an admirer. Obliged to seek for a lodging, chance threw in his way a peruke-maker, named Keller^ who had often admired, at the cathedral, the beauty of his voice ; and who. 43 in consequence, offered him an asylum. Kel- ler received him as a son, sharing with him his humble fare, and charging his wife with the care of his clothing. Haydn, freed from all worldly cares, and established in the obscure dwelling of the peruke-maker, was able to pursue his studies without interruption, and to make rapid pro- gress. His residence here had, however, a fatal influence on his future life ; the Germans are possessed with the mania of marriage. To a gentle, affectionate, and timid people, domestic pleasures are of the first necessity. Keller had two daughters ; his wife and he soon began to think of marrying one of them to the young musician, and spoke to him on the subject. Absorbed in his own meditations, and thinking nothing about love, he made no objection to the match. He kept his word, in the sequel, with that honour which was the basis of his character, and this union was any thing rather than happy. His first productions were some short so- natas for the piano-forte, which he sold at a low price to his female pupils, for he had 44 met with a few. He also wrote minuets, dllemands, and walzes, for the Ridotto. He composed^ for his amusement, a serenata for three instruments, which he performed on fine ■ummer evenings, with two of hii friends, in different parts of Vienna. The theatre of Carinthia* was at that time directed by Ber- nardone Curtz, a celebrated buffoon, who amused the public with his puns. Bernardon© drew crowds to his theatre by his originality, and by good opera-bufTas. He had, moreover, a handsome wife ; and this was an additional reason for our nocturnal adventurers to go and perform their serenade under the harlequin's windows. Curtz was so struck with the ori- ginality of the music, that he came down into the street, to ask who had composed it. '* I did," replied Haydn, boldly.—" How! you ; at your age ?" — " One must make a beginning sometime." — " Gad this is droll ; come up-stairs." Haydn followed the harle- quin, was introduced to the handsome wife. * The most frequented of the three theattr^ts of Vienna, 45 and re-descended with the poera of an opera^ entitled, " The Devil on Two Sticks." The music, composed in a few days, had the happiest success, and was paid for with twenty-four sequins.* But a nobleman, who probably was not handsome, perceived that he was ridiculed, under the name of the Devil on two Sticks, and caused the piece to be prohibited. Haydn often says, that he had more trouble in finding out a mode of representing the motion of the waves in a tempest of this opera, than he afterwards had, in writing fugues with a double subject. Curtz, who had spirit, and taste, was difficult to please , but there was also another obstacle. Neither of the two authors had ever seen either sea or storm. How can a man describe what he knows nothing about ? If this happy art could be discovered, many of our great poli- ticians would talk better about virtue. Curtz, all agitation, paced up and down the room. * Twelve pounds. 4lS where the composer was seated at the piano- forte. " Imagine/' said he;, " a mountain rising, and then a valley sinking ; and then another mountain^, and then another valley; the mountains and the valleys follow one after the other^ with rapidity ; and at every mom en tj alps and abysses succeed each other." ^his fine description was of no avail. In vain did harlequin add the thunder and lightning. '' Come, describe for me all these horrors/' he repeated incessantly, '' but, par- ticularly, represent distinctly these mountains and valleys." Haydn drew ^ his fingers rapidly o; er the key-board, ran through the semi-tones, tried abundance of sevenths, passed from the lowest notes of the bass to the highest of the treble. Curtz was still dissatisfied. At last, the young man, out of all patience, extended his hands to the two ends of the harpsichord, and bringing them rapidly together, exclaimed, " The devil take the tempest \" " That's it, that's it," cried the harlequin, springing upon his neck, and almost stifling him. Haydn added, that when he crossed the Straits of 6 47 Dover, in bad weather, many years after- wards, he laughed during the whole of the passage, on thinking of the storm in The Devil on Twa Sticks. " But how," said I to him, " is it possible, by sounds, to describe a tempest^ and that distincthj too ?" As this great man is indul- gence itself, I added, " that by imitating the peculiar tones of a man in terror, or despair, an author of genius may communicate to an auditor the sensations which the sight of a storm would cause in him; but," said I, " music can no more represent a tempest, than say, ' Mr. Haydn lives near the barrier of Schbnbrunn.' "^'You may be right," re- plied he, '' but recollect, nevertheless, that words, and especially scenery, guide the imagination of the spectator." Haydn was in his nineteenth year, when he composed this tempest. You know, that that musical prodigy^ Mozart, wrote his first opera at Milan, at the age of thirteen, in competition with Hasse, who, after having heard the rehearsal, said publicly, '' This boy will throw us all into the shade." Haydn 48 was not so successful ; his talent was not for the theatre : and though he has produced operas which no master would be ashamed to avow_, he has, nevertheless, remained far behind the Clemenza di Tito, and Don Juan. A year after the production of the Devil on two Sticks, Haydn entered on his proper career ; he presented himself in the lists with six trios. The peculiarity of the style, and the novelty of the thing, gave them imme- diately the greatest celebrity; but the grave German musicians warmly attacked the dai^- gerous innovations * with which they were filled. This nation, which has alvrays had its faible in science, still composed its cham- ber music in all the rigour of J\igue4 coun- terpoint, f * Dangerous inuovsitions ! The langqage of ignorance and imbecility in every age. T- t It should be known, that nothing is more ridiculous ©r pedantic, than the rules of the most seductive of arts. Music stands in need of a Lavoisier. I entreat to be excused from explaining the strange words which I am sometimes obliged to use : there is Rousseau's Musical Die* tiQi^ir^ to refer to. For instance, after a great deal of 49 The musical academy^ established at Vi- enna by the great contrapuntist who sat on the throne^ I mean, the Emperor Charles VI. still maintained itself in all its vigour. This grave monarch, who, it is said, was never seen to smile,* was one of the most violent amateurs of his time ; and the composers in us,f who trouble to make out ^vhat counterpoint is, we find, that if music were treated with a Uttle method, twenty lines would be sufficient to convey an idea of its meaning. The various substances of nature, from the stone which paves the streets of Paris, to the water of Cologne, are certainly mere numerous than the different circumstances which can be "remarked in two or three sounds, sung one after the other, or at the same time ; yet, the youngest student of the Polytechnic School, after twenty of Fourcroy's lessons, had all these substances classed in his head. This was owing to the rational system which, till 1804, was pursued in that school : the atmosphere of good sense, which was respired there, rejected every thing false or obscure. * Instances of solemn stupidity on a throne, are not wanting in our day : and the ' Great Embroiderer' may dispute the palm with the ' Great Contrapuntist.' T. t " Composers in us." A common expression in France, to denote a pedant ; a man full of book learning, but des- titute of natural genius and feeling. It is an allusion to JL,es Femmes Savantes, of Moliere, in which several charac- ters of this sort are introduced, under the names of Vadius, Rasius, and other names, ending in us. T. E 50 surrounded him, could not endure any thing that was of a pleasing, rather than of a learned cast. The charming little thoughts of the young musician, the warmth of his style, the liberties which he sometimes al- lowed himself, called forth against him all the invectives* of the musical monastery. They reproached him with errors of counterpoint, heretical modulations, movements too daring. Happily all this disturbance did no harm to the rising genius : one thing, only, could have injured him — the silence of contempt; and the debut of Haydn was attended with circum- stances directly opposite. You must know, my friend, that before Haydn, no man had conceived the idea of an orchestra, composed of eighteen kinds of instruments. He is the inventor of prestissimo, the ver) idea of which made the old square- toes of Vienna shudder. In music, as in every thing else, we have little conception of what the world was a hundred years back : * Les Pacomes, 51 the allegro, for instance, was only an an- dantino. In instrumental music, Haydn has revolu- tionized the details, as well as the masses. It is he who has obliged the wind instruments to execute pianissimo* * To assert that we owe the introduction of prestissimo, and pianissimo (for an invention it can scarcely be called), to Haydn, is saying little. Our author's skill was much more shewn, by the variety of notes, of different lengths, which he introduced into his inimitable adagios. Before his time, few movements were constructed with notes of more than four degrees duration, the shortest being to the longest as 1 to 8 ; but we have now whole bars, where 32 notes are played in the time of 1 in the other parts. We may also mention the extension of the scale into the heights of altissimo, as another improvement, which has had a wonderful eftect upon melody, and by increasing the number of harmonic combinations, has enlarged the boundaries of thorough bass. For we are by no means of opinion with the doctors of the old school, that all chords are to be found in the septavc, but are advocates for the new theory, which acknowledges the chords of the 9th, 11th, and 13th. Indeed, we think it not improbable that our harmonic nomenclature may be extended even to the chord of the 35th, which would be an admixture of all the tones and semitones of the scale, E 2 62 It v\as at twenty that he produced his first qtiartett in B" -j time, uhich all the musical amateurs immediately learned by heart. I do not know for \vhat reason Haydn, about this time, left the house of his friend Keller ; but it is certain, that his reputation, though rising under the most brilliant auspices, had not yet raised him above poverty. He went to reside with a M. Martinez, who oft'ered him board and lodging;, on condition that he would give lessons on the piano-forte, and in singing, to his two daughters. It was then, that the same house, situated near the church of St. Michael, contained in two rooms, one over the other, in the third and fourth stories, the first poet of the age, and the first sym- phonist of the world. In the tiuie of Lulli, shiltiiig upon the violin was un- known ; and whenever the note C upon tlje first string occurred, it was looked upon with great terror, and in order to put the perforiiieia upon their guard, it was the practiceof the leader to cr^' oivt " gare l'ut," jnind the C. The difficulty was then got over, by an exertion of the little finger ! ! G Jo Metastasio, also^ lodged with INI. Martinez, but, as poet to the Emperor Charles VI., he lived in easy circumstances, ^vhile poor Haydn passed the winter days in bed for want of fuel. The society of the Roman poet was, nevertheless, a great advantage to him. A gentle and deep sensibility had given Metas- tasio a correct taste in all the arts. He was passionately fond of music, and understood it well; and this singularly harmonious soul appreciated the talents of the young German. Metastasio, dining every day with Haydn, gave him some general rules respecting the fine arts; and, in the course of his instruc- tions, taught him Italian. This struggle against w^ant, the early com panion of almost all artists who have arrived at distinction, lasted, w ith respect to Haydn, for six long years. If some rich nobleman had brought him out at that time, and sent him to travel, for two years, in Italy, with a pension of one hundred iouis, nothing, per- haps, would have been wanting to his talent ; but, less fortunate than Metastasio, he had E 3 54 not his Gravina* At length, he obtained a situation in a family ; and, in 1758, left the house of Martinez, to enter the service of the count Mortzin. This nobleman gave musical parties in the evenings, and had an orchestra of his own. Chance brought the old prince Antony Ester- hazy, an ardent amateur, to one of these con- certs, which happened to commence with a symphony of Haydn, (that in A. ^time.) The prince was so charmed with this piece, that he immediately entreated the count Mortzin to give up Haydn to him, whom he declared his intention of appointing second leader to his own orchestra. Mortzin consented. Unfor- * The abbe Gian \ iiiccnzo Gravina, was born near Cosenza, in Calabriii, in 10G4. He was the most distin- guished civilian of bis time, and wrote some profound works on tlie Roman jurisprudence ; but, his generous patronage of Metastasio, says Tiraboschi, is alone suffi- cient for his eulogium. He died at Rome, in the arras of his grateful pupil, in 1718. T. OD luiiately the author^ who was unwell, was not present at the concert that day; and as the intentions of princes, when they are not im- mediately executed, are subject to many delays, several months elapsed before Haydn, who was very desirous of entering into the service of the first nobleman in Europe, heard any more of it. Friedberg, a composer attached to prince Antony, and who admired the rising talents of our young man, sought an opportunity of recalling him to the recollection of his high- ness. He formed the plan of setting him to compose a symphony, to be performed at Eisenstddt, where the prince resided, on his birth-day. Haydn executed it, and it is worthy of him. The day of the ceremony being arrived, the prince, seated on his throne, and surrounded by his court, attend- ed at the usual concert. Haydn's symphony was began. Scarcely had the performers got to the middle of the first allegro, than the prince interrupted them, and asked who was the author of that fine composition .' " Haydn," replied Friedberg, and he made E 4 56 the poor young man, all fremblino;, come forwards. ''What!" exclaimed he, "is it this Moor's music ?" (Haydn's complexion, it must be confessed, gave some room for this sarcasm) " Well, Moor, from henceforth you remain in my service. What is your uame.^" — " Joseph Haydn." — " Surely I remember that name ; you are already engaged to me ; how is it that I have not seen you before ?" Haydn, confused by the majesty which surrounded the prince, made no reply. The prince con- tinued, " Go, and dress yourself like a pro- fessor ; do not let me see you any more in this trim, you cut a pitiful figure. Get a new coat, a wig and buckles, a collar, and red heels to your shoes ; but I particularly desire that they may be of a good height, in order that your stature nuiy correspon■" The many rend the skies with loud ap- plause." Though higher than D, it is less loud,' as it stretches the voice beyond its na- tural powers. Keen and piercing. Seldom used. h2 100 The first events of the voyage, formed the symphony. It began with the departure. A favourable breeze gently agitated the waves. G Minor. E flat Major. c Minor. A flat M;yor. F Minor. D flat Major. > B flat "] The least interesting of any. It has not sufiicienl fire to render it majestic, or grand, ^ and is too dull for song. Meek and pensive. Replete with melan- choly. Full, and mellow: sombre, soft, and beau- tiful. It is a key in which all musicians delight. Though less decided in its character than some of the others, the regularity of its beauty renders it a universal favourite. Complaining : having something of the whining cant of B minor. '] The most lovely of the tribe. Unassuming, gentle, soft, delicate, and tender, having none of the pertness of A in sharps. )> Every author has been sensible of the charm of this key, and has reserved it for the ex- pression of his most refined sentiments. Religious, penitential, and gloomy. Awfully dark. In this remote key, Haydn and Beethoven have written their sublimest thoughts. They never enter it but for tragic purposes. It is suflicient to have hinted at these efl'ects. To ac- count for them, is diflicuU ; but every musician is sensible of their existence. G» 101 The ship sailed smoothly out of the port; while^ on the shore^ the family of the voyager followed him with tearful eyes, and his friends made signals of farewell. The vessel had a prosperous voyage, and reached at length an unknown land. A savage music, dances, and barbarous cries, were heard towards the middle of the symphony. The fortunate navi- gator made advantageous exchanges with the natives of the country, loaded his vessel with rich merchandise, and at length set sail again for Europe, with a prosperous wind. Here the first part of the symphony returned. But, soon, the sea begins to be rough, the sky grows dark, and a dreadful storm con- founds together all the chords, and accelerates the time. Every thing is in disorder on board the vessel. The cries of the sailors, the roaring of the waves, the whistling of the wind, carry the melody of the chromatic scale to the highest degree of the pathetic. Dimi- nished and superfluous chords, modulations, succeeding by semi-tones, describe the terror of the mariners. But, gradually, the sea becomes calm. favourable breezes swell the sails^ and they reach the port. The happy father casts an- chor in the midst of the congratulations of his friends, and the joyful cries of his children^ and of their mother, -whom he at length em- braces safe on shore. Every thing, at the end of the symphony, is happiness and joy. I cannot recollect, to which of the sym- phonies this little romance served as a clue. I know that he mentioned it to me, as well as to professor Pichl, but I have totally for- gotten it. For the subject of another symphony, Haydn had imagined a sort of dialogue be- tween Jesus Christ, and an obstinate sinner, and, afterwards, followed the parable of the Prodigal Son. From these little romances, were taken the names by which our composer sometimes de- signated his symphonies. Without the know- ledge of this circumstance, one is at a loss to understand the meaning of the titles. "The Fair Circassian,'^ ^Mioxalana," ''The Hermit/' " The enamoured School-master/' ** The Persian," " The Poltroon/' " The 103 Queen/' " Laudohn ;" all which names in- dicate the little romance which guided the composer. I wish the names of Haydn's sym- phonies had been retained, instead of num- bers. A number has no meaning ; a title^ such as, ^^ The Shipwreck/' ^^ The Wedding/' guides, in some degree, the imagination of the auditor^ which cannot be awakened too soon. It is said, that no man had such a know- ledge of the various effects and relations of colours, the contrasts which they were capa- ble of forming, &c. as Titian. Haydn, like- wise, possessed an incredible acquaintance with each of the instruments which composed his orchestra. As soon as his imagination supplied him with a passage, a chord, a sin- gle note, he immediately saw by what instru- ment it should be executed, in order to pro- duce the most sonorous and agreeable effect.* * The manner in which Haydn has employed the wind instruments, opens a field for experiment in the musical art, which may not be exhausted for ages. He was the first who discovered tiiat each instr.ihiont has a pecuJiar faculty, and who appointed to each ics proper office. He H 4 104 If any doubt arose, during the composition of a symphony, his situation at Eisenstadt en- abled him easily to resolve it. He rang his has not only drawn from the several instruments their peculiar language, but has grouped them into classes, for purposes entirely new. Turn to the trio in the Creation, " O71 thee each living soul awaits." The tymphony opens with a flute, two clarionets, two bassoons, and two horns, mingling in a melody, so full and delicious, as to produce that sated effect which the words demand. ** P Lord, on thee they beg their meat ; Thou openest thy hand. And sated all they are." The violas, violoncellos, and double basses, follow in a separate band, and gradually sink into the depths of the darkest melody, to express, " Btit as to them thy face is hid." This strain is awfully sublime. At the words, " With sudden terror they are struck," we feel a paralytic sen- sation, never before produced by the power of sound. It is a palsied and shivering efl'ect, which is brought about by a singular junction of time, and accent. " Thou takest their breath away ; " They vanish into dust ;" is »o forcible and commanding, that we begin to doubt, 2 105 bell^ in the way agreed on, to announce a rehearsal; the performers repaired to the rehearsing-room. He made them execute the passage which he had in his mind^ in two or three different ways; and having made his choice, he dismissed them, and returned to resume his coi^ujosition. Do you recollect, my dear Louis, the scene of Orestes, in Gluck's Iphigenia in Tauris? The astonishing effect of the passages, exe- cuted by the agitated violas, would have been lost, if these passages had been assigned to any other instrument. We often find singular modulations in Haydn, but he was sensible that what is extravagant, diverts the attention of the au- whether it is the sound of strings that we have heard. At the passage, " Life with vigour fresh returns," all contrariety is banished, and the different bands coalesce with a smoothness which produce " new force and new delight." All these novelties result f'om that knowledge of the characteristic powers of the several instruments which Haydn was the first to discover. G. 106 ditor from what is beautiful ; and he never hazards 'any singular change, without having imperceptibly prepared for it by the preceding chords. Accordingly;, when it occurs^ we do not find it either unsuitable, or unnatural. He said, that he had taken the idea of several of these transitions from the works of old Bach. You know, that Bach himself brought them from Rome. Haydn readily acknowledged the general obligations he was under to Emmanuel Bach : who, before the birth of Mozart, was con- sidered the first pianist in the world ; but he also declared, that he owed nothing to the Milanese San Martini, who, he said, was only a dabbler.* * The piano-forte was scarcely known in the time of Bach ; and, from the style of his compositions, it is evident that they were the product of the harpsichord, an instru- ment of very limited powers ; the boldest eft'ects of which were produced by sprinkling the chords in Arpeggio, which occasioned a disagreeable jingling. The early sonatas of Haydn, also, bear marks of the influence of this instru- ment, and possess nothing of the expression of his later works. The invention of the piano-forte has formed za 107 I very well remember^ however, that when I was at Milan, thirty years ago, at a musical entertainment, which was given to the cele- brated Mislivicek, when some old symphonies of San Martini were performed, the Bohemian professor suddenly exclaimed, " I have dis- covered the father of Haydn's style." This was, doubtless, saying too much ; but these two authors had received from nature very similar minds ; and it has been proved, that Haydn had great opportunities of study- ing the works of the Milanese professor. As for the resemblance, take notice of the move- ment of the second violin, and the viola in Haydn's first quartett in B'' major, at the commencement of the second part of the era in the art. It has been the means of developing the sublimest ideas of the composer, and the delicacy of its touch has enabled him to give the lightest shades, as well as the boldest strokes of musical expression. It is the only instrument that will represent the effects of a full orchestra, and since its mechanism has been improved, Beethoven has displayed its powers in a way not contemplated even by Haydn himself. G. . 108 first movement. It is altogether in the man- ner of San Martini. This San Martini, a man all fire and originality, was also, though residing at a distance, in the service of Prince Nicholas Esterhazy. A banker of Milan, named Cas- telli, was ordered by the prince to pay San Martini eight sequins (4/.) for every piece of music which he should send him. The com- poser was bound to supply, at least two per month, and had the liberty of sending to the banker as many as he chose. But, in the decline of life, old age rendered him indo- lent, and I well remember hearing the banker complain to him of the remonstrances he re- ceived from Vienna, on account of the un- frequency of his remittances. San Martini re- plied, grumbling, '' I'll write some, I'll write some, but the harpsichord kills me." Notwithstanding his indolence, the library of the Palfy family alone, contains more than a thousand pieces of this author. Haydn, therefore, had every facility for knowing and studying him, if he ever had the intention. Haydn, in attending to sounds, had early 109 obserredj to use his own words — *^' what wa% good — what was better — what was bad ?" I will give you an instance of his simple way of replying, which had a very embarrassing effect. When asked the reason why he had written a particular chord, why he had as- signed a passage to one instrument, rather than to another, he seldom made any anssver than, " I did it, because it was best so." This rare man, thrown upon himself in his youth by the avarice of the masters, had ac- quired his knowledge from himself; he had observed what had passed in himself, and en- deavoured to re-produce what he experienced in his own feelings. A common artist merely quotes the rule, or the example, which he has followed ; all this he has very clearly in his head. Haydn had laid down a singular rule, of which I can inform you nothing, except that he would never say in what it consisted. You are too well acquainted with the arts to render it necessary for me to remind you, that the ancient Greek sculptors had certain invariable rules of beauty, called canons. 110 These rules are lost, and their existence is buried in profound obscurity. It appears as if Haydn had discovered something- similar in music. When the composer IVeigl en- treated him to communicate these rules to him, he could obtain no other reply than, " Try to find them out." We are told, likewise, that the charming Sarti occasionally composed on arithmetical principles. He even boasted that he could teach this science in a few lessons ; but his whole arcanum consisted in getting- money from some rich amateurs, who were simple enough to suppose that it was possible to speak a language without understanding it. How can we make use of the language of sounds, w ithout having previously studied the meaning of each of them. As for Haydn, whose heart was the temple of honour, all those who were acquainted with him, know that he had a secret, which be would not disclose.* He has given to * It is probable that this secret consisted in bis know- ledge of the intimate dependance of melody upon har- (11 the public nothing of this sort, except a phil- harmonic game, in which you obtain num- bers, at hazard, by throwing dice. The pas- sages, to which these numbers correspond, being put together, even by a person who has not the least knowledge of counterpoint^ form regular minuets. Haydn had another very original principle. When his object was not to express any par- ticular affection, or to paint any particular images, all subjects were alike to him. "^'The whole art consists," said he, " in taking up a subject, and pursuing it." Often, when a friend entered, as he was about to commence a piece, be would say with a smile, " Give me a subject." Give a subject to Haydn ! who would have the courage to do so .^-— '' Come, never mind," he would say, " give me any thing you can think of;" and you were obliged to obey. Many of his astonishing quartetts exhibit mony ; a principle not generally recognized, but which we have endeavoured to develope in the note at the com- mencement of Letter XVI. G. 112 marks of this piece of dexterity. They com- mence with the most insignificant idea, but, by degrees, this idea assumes a character ; it strengthens, increases, extends itself, and the dwarf becomes a giant before our won- dering eyes. US LETTER IX. Salzburg, May 4, 1809, Mr Friend, In 1741j that genius of music, Jomelli, was sent for to Bolog-na to compose an opera. The day after his arrival, he went to see the celebrated Father Martini, without making himself known, and begged to be received into the number of his pupils. Father Mar- tini gave him a subject for a fugue ; and finding that he executed it in a superior man- ner, " Who are you ?" said he ; "^ are you making game of me ? it is I who need to learn of you." — '' I am Jomelli, the professor who is to write the opera to be performed here next autumn, and I am come to ask you to teach me the great art of never being embar- rassed by my own ideas." We, who have nothing to do with music but to enjoy it, are not aware of the diffi- culty of arranging a beautiful air so as to I 114 please an auditor, without transgressing cer- tain ruleSj of which, it must be allowed, a full fourth, at least, are purely arbi- trary. It continually happens, when we are writing, that we have good ideas, but find extreme difficulty in disclosing them, and in giving a suitable turn to the expression. This difficult art, which Jomelli entreated Father Martini to teach him, Haydn disco- vered of himself. In his youth, he frequently put down on paper a certain number of notes, taken at random, marked the time of each, and obliged himself to make something of them, taking them as fundamentals. The same is related of Sarti At Naples, the abbe Speranza obliged his pupils to take an aria of Metastasio's, and to write, in succession, to the same words, thirty different airs. It was by this method that he trained the cele- brated Zingarellij who still enjoys his glory at Rome, and who was able to compose his best works in eight days, and sometimes even in a still shorter period. I myself can bear testimony, that in forty hours, divided into ten days work, he produced his inimitable 6 115 Romeo and Juliet. He wrote his opera of Alcina, the first of his celebrated productions, at Milan, in a week. He is superior to all the mechanical difficulties of his art. One of Haydn's remarkable qualities, the first of those which are not bestowed by na- ture, is the possession of a style. A musi- cal composition is a discourse, expressed by sounds, instead of words. In his discourses, Haydn possesses, in a supreme degree^ the art of not only increasing the effect of the principal idea, by accessory ideas, but also of expressing both, in the manner best suited to the cast of the subject : which a little resem- bles what, in literature, are termed proprieties of style. Thus, the stately style of BufFon admits not of those lively, original, and fa- miliar turns of expression, which are so pleas- ing in Montesquieu.* * The style of Beethoven is so completely different from that of Haydn, that so far from thinking, as our author observes, at the conclusion of Letter 2, that he has copied from the latter, we should rather refer to him as an instance of the varieties of musical style. Turn, for example, to his symphony in C major, the i2 116 The theme of a symphony, is the propo- sition which the author undertakes to estab- lish, or, to speak more properly, which he endeavours to make you feel. As the orator, after having; proposed his subject, developes it, brings forward his proofs, repeats what he is desirous of demonstrating, strengthens it by additional testimonies, and, at length, con- cludes : so Haydn endeavours to impress first note of which, strikes the auditor by the new way in which its harmony is conipouaded. It begins with a discord, which imparts a bewailing, and dark eftect to the wind instruments, and which rouses the ii-.j.gination, and leaves the ear unguarded, for suddca and striking impressions. Out of the first movement, starts an un- expected theme, which, ignis fatuus-like, leads us over a dark and mysterious waste, occasionally illumined by a few scattered rays of light, till it conducts us to an andante, of inimitable clearness, beauty, and grace, the effect of which, is like bursting into open day, enlivened with all the freshness of spring. The symphonies of Haydn may be compared fo little operas, formed upon natural occurrences, all within the verge of probability. Those of Beethoven, are romances of the wildest invention, exhibiting a supernatural agency, which powerfully affects the feelings and imagination. G. 117 upon the auditor the theme of his sym- phonies. It is necessary to bear in mind this theme, that it may not escape from us. Common composers are satisfied \vith a servile repe- tition of it, in making it pass from one key to another ; Haydn, on the contrary, every time he resumes it, gives it an air of novelty ; sometimes invests it with a certain rudeness, at others, embellishes it with delicacy, and always gives the surprised auditor the plea- sure of recognizing it under an agreeable disguise. I am sure that you, who have been struck with the symphonies of Haydn, if you have followed the progress of this pathos, have his admirable andantes actually present to your thoughts. In the midst of this torrent of ideas, Haydn knows how to avoid ever transgressing the bounds of nature ; he is never eccentric : every thing with him is in the most proper place. The symphonies of Haydn, like the ha- rangues of Cicero, form a vast magazine, in which all the resources of the art are to be I 3 118 found. With a piano-forte^ I could make you distinguish^ in one way or other, twelve or fifteen musical figures^ as difllbrent from one another, as the antithesis and metonymy * in rhetoric : but, at present, I will only point out to you the suspensions. I speak of those unexpected pauses of the whole orchestra, when Haydn, arrived, in the cadence of the musical period, at the note which resolves and concludes the phrase, suddenly stops, at a moment when the in- struments seem the most animated, and si- lences them all. You think that the first sound that you will hear, as soon as they resume, will be this final note, that which concludes the phrase, and which you have, so to speak, already heard in imagination. By no means. Haydn generally then passes to the Jifth by a short and graceful transition, which he had already indicated. After having put you off Grands mots que Pradon prend pour termes de chimie. BOILEAU. 119 for a momeiitj by this sportive trait, he returns to the principal key, and then gives you fully^ and to your entire satisfaction, the ca- dence which he at first seemed to withhold, only in order to render it more agreeable afterwards. He makes good use of one great advantage which instrumental music has over vocal. In- struments are capable of describing the most rapid and energetic movements, while the voice is unable to reach the expression of the passions, when they require any rapidity in the utterance of the words. Time is as necessary to the composer, as canvas-room to the painter. They are the infirmities of these fine arts. Observe the duet Sortite, sortite, between Susanna and Cherubino, at the mo- ment when he is going to jump out of the window. There is an accompaniment, but the words are pronounced too rapidly to be pleasant. In the duet Svenami, i4 120 in the third act of the Horatii, is it not quite out of character, that Camilla, furiously disputing with the stern Horatius, speaks so slowly ? I think the duet good, but the slow movement of the words, in so animated a situa- tion, destroys the pleasure. I would even undertake to write Italian words, in which Camilla and Horatius should be two lovers deploring the misfortune of not having seen each other for a few days. 1 would adapt them to the air of the duet Svenami, and 1 believe that the music would just as well describe the very tolerable distress of my lovers, as the furious patriotism, and despair, of Grassini and Crivelli. If Cimarosa has failed in expressing these words, who can hope to do it? For my own part, I am of opinion that we are arrived, in this respect, at one of the boundaries of the musical art. A person, who was in the habit of attending the opera, said to one of my friends, "What a great man this Gluck is ! his songs are not very agreeable, it is true, but, what expression ! Hear Orpheus, singing. 121 J'ai perdu mon Euridice, Rien n'egale mon malheur. * My friendj who has a good voice^ answered him by singing the same air : J'ai trouv6 mon Euridice Rien n'egale mon bonheur.-\ I desire you will make the experiment with the part before you. If you want an instance of pain, recollect. Ah ! rimembranza amara ! at the beginning of Don Juan. Observe, that the movement is necessarily slow, and that perhaps Mozart himself, would not have suc- ceeded in representing impetuous despair. The despair, for instance, of the passionate lover, when he receives the terrible letter, which consists in these words; "Well then. No!" This situation is well expressed in Cimarosa's air. 'Senti indigna! io ti volea sposar, E ti trovo innamorata. * " I have lost my Eurydice, Nothing can equal my distress.' t " I have found ray Eurydice, Nothing can equal my felicity." 6 1'22 Here, again, the unhappy l6vcr is ready to weep, — his reason wavers, — but he is not furi- ous. Music can no more represent fury, than a painter can depict two different periods of the same action. The true movement of vocal music is that of the Matins. Recollect that of Ser Marc Antonio. Hasse, Vinci, Faus- tina, and Mingoti, were well aware of this, but we have forgotten it. Still less can music describe all the objects of nature. Instruments possess the power of rapidity of movement, but, for want of words, they can describe nothing with pre- cision. Of fifty sensible people, who hear with pleasure the same symphony, it is pro* bable that no two will be affected by the same image. I have often thought, that the effect of the symphonies of llaydn and IMozart would be much increased, if they were to be played in the orchestra of a theatre ; and if, during the performance, well-painted scenes, ana- logous to the principal thought of the dif- ferent passages, were to be exhibited in suc- cession on the stage. A beautiful scene. 133 representing a peaceful sea, and a clear ex- panse of sky, would heighten the effect, as it appears to me, of an andante intended to represent a pleasing tranquillity. In Germany they have a custom of per- sonating well-known pictures. A whole party will put on Dutch dresses, divide themselves into groups, and, motionless, imitate to un- common perfection, a picture of Teniers, or Ostade. Such pictures, on the stage, would be an excellent commentary on the symphonies of Haydn, and would fix them for ever in the memory. I cannot possibly forget the chaotic symphony which opens the Creation, after having seen, in the ballet of Prometheus, Vigano's charming actresses represent, as they follow the movements of the symphony, the astonishment of the daughters of the earth, when their senses are first awakened to the charms of the fine arts. It is in vain to dis- pute ; music, which is the least definite of the fine arts, is not of itself suflSciently de- scriptive. V In acquiring one of the qualities which are 124 requisite to describe the rapidity of mo- tion, for instance, it loses the words and touchino^ intonations of the human voice. Does it retain the voice, it then loses the necessary rapidity.* * With the musician, the human voice is regarded as an instrument ; but, of all instruments, it has the most powerful effect upon our mind and feelings. Although it is too limited in compass to produce the sublimer strokes of musical expression, yet, in the softer gra- dations of the art, its influence is pre-eminently felt. Under the guidance of art, it is combined with speech to form a distinct branch of music, called vocal. This department is exclusively its own, as at present mechanism has not advanced far enough to produce the same combination upon the instruments. To assist in explaining the nature of this curious, and delicate organ, it may be said that every person has two distinct voices, the singing, and the speaking voice, be- tween the operations of which there is little or no analogy. In singing, the sounds are formed in the Larynx, which is situated immediately above the windpipe; and the notes of the musical scale are produced by the com- bined action of the muscles upon certain membranes in the interior of the larynx, which form an aperture called the rima glottidis. In the higher notes of the scale, this aperture is propor- 125 How is it possible to represent ameadoWj enamelled with flowers, by sounds different from those which would express the prosperous wind which swells the sails of Paris, when he carries off the beauteous Helen ? Paesiello and Sarti share with Haydn the great merit of knowing how to distribute well lionally contracted, and in the deeper intonations, the membranes are relaxed, and the aperture enlarged. In speaking, the glottis acts unconsciously, and the tones coruscate througli all the intervals of the key of the persons' voice. They play with incredible quickness between the key note, through its 3rd, to the 5th above, and, in forcible expressions, will flash from the lower octave to that of the double octave. The office of the glottis in singing, is the same with that of the Reed in musical instruments, and the muscles are made to act upon it with such precision and agility, that it surpasses the most expressive instruments, in rapidity and neatness of execution. The desideratum of the art, is to use both these voices at once, and so to blend one with the other, as that neither shall be injured. This is a rare faculty, which has perhaps not yet been attained in our language. When we listen to vocal music in a language we do not understand, we can then readily perceive the effort which is made to bring these voices together, and it then becomes apparent, how liable words are to injure the beautiful sounds, whieh feeling and sentiment induce. G. I 136 the difterent parts of a work : and it is by means of this judicious internal economy, that Paesicllo composes not merely an air, but a whole opera, with two or three delight- ful passages. He disguises them, recalls them to the memory, collects them together, and gives them a more imposing air. Gradually, he gains upon the hearts of his auditors, makes them feel the sweetness of his least notes ; and thus produces that music of his, so full of graces, and so easy of comprehen- sion. Observe the Molinara, which you are so fond of. Compare the accompaniments of the Pino, for instance, with those of the Ginevra of Mayer ; or, if you would place a dandelion by the side of a rose, think of the accompani- ments in the Alcestis of Gluck. Some little time is necessary to enable us to understand a musical passage, so as to feel it, and thoroughly to enter into it. The most beautiful idea possible, produces only a tran- sient sensation, if the composer does not dwell on it. If he passes too soon to another thought, the gracefulness vanishes. Haydn is admirable in this part also, which is so essen- 127 tial in symphonies^ where there is no expla- nation by words, and which are not inter- rupted by any recitative or period of silence. Turn to the adagio of the quartette No. 45 ; but all his works are full of similar examples. As soon as the subject begins to be exhausted, he introduces an agreeable digression, and the pleasure is reproduced, under different and interesting forms. He is sensible that in a symphony, as in a poem, the episodes ought to adorn the subject, — not to cause it to be forgotten. In this respect, he is unique. Observe, in the Four Seasons, the ballet of the peasants, which gradually becomes a fugue full of animation, and forms a charm- ing digression. The judicious disposition of the different parts of a symphony, produces in the auditor a certain satisfaction, mingled with a pleasing tranquillity, a sensation, as it appears to me, similar to that produced upon the eye by the harmony of colours in a well-painted picture. Look at the St. Jerome of Correggio ; the spec- tator does not enquire into the cause of his 128 feelings, but involuntarily turns his steps to it ; which he returns to the Holy Sepulchre of Carava^g'io * only in consequence of a deter- mination to do so. In music, how many Cara- vagg'ios have we for one Correggio? but a picture may possess great merit, without giving a sensible pleasure to the eye : such are some of the worksoftheCarracci, who have inclined too much to the sombre, whereas, no music, which does not immediately please the ear, can be called music. The science of sounds is so indefinite, that one can be sure of nothing with respect to them, except the actual pleasure which they give. It is by means of very profound combina- tions, that Haydn divides the musical thought, or air, among the different instruments of the orchestra. Each has its part, and the part which suits it. I wish, my friend, that in the * This difference would be still more evident, if I could instance in the St. George of the Dresden gallery. The beauty of the Mary, the divine expression of the Mag- dalen, in the St. Jerome of Paris, do not leave time to observe how finely this picture is painted. . 129 interval between this letter and my next^ you could go to your Conversatoire of Paris^ where you say the symphonies of our composer aria so well performed. Try, when you hear them, if you can re- cognise the truth of my reveries; if not^, shew me no mercy, for either I have expressed myself ill, or my notions will be as real as those of the good lady, who fancied she saw in the spots of the moon, happy lovers, bending towards each other. Some writers of operas have also endea- voured to divide the exposition of their ideas between the orchestra, and the voice of the actor. They have forgotten that the human voice has this peculiar quality, that, as soon as it is heard, it draws the whole attention to it. We all unfortunately experience, as age comes on, that in proportion as our sensibility is diminished, and our knowledge increased, we become more attentive to the instruments. But, to the majority of those who are capable of feeling music, the more clearly and dis- tinctly the air is given, the greater the plea- 130 Aiirc. The only exceptions known of to this remark, are certain pieces of Mozart. But he is the La Fontaine of music ; and as those wha have sought to imitate the naivete of the first poet in the French language, have produced nothing but silliness, so those composers who attempt to follow Mozart, fall into the most impertinent singularities. The sweetness of the melodies of this great man, gives a relish to all his chords, makes every thing pass. The German composers, whom I hear every day, renounce, with good reason, all pretensions to grace, though in a department where it is in- dispensible; they are always aiming at the terrible. The overture of the lightest comic opera resembles a battle or a burial. They say that the overture of the Frascatana is not powerful enough in the harmony. They are like a painter who is ignorant of the art of shading, who knows nothing of the soft, and the tender, and who tries, with all his might, to draw female portraits. He sayia to his pupils, in an oracular tone: ''^ Beware of imitating that unfortunate Correggio, that 131 tiresome Paul Veronese, be hard and roughs, like me.'* " Un jour les Grenovilles se lev^rent, Et dirent aux Coucous, lUustres compagnoas." Voltaire. * " One day the frogs arose, And said to the cuckoos, Illustrious comrades." K % 132 LETTER X Saltburg, May G, 1809. 1 HAVE often heard Haydn asked, which of his works he preferred: he replied. The Seven Words. I will first give you an expla- nation of the title. About fifty years since, there was celebrated at Madrid and Cadiz, a service, called the entierro ; that is, the fu- neral of the Redeemer. The gravity and religious feeling of the Spanish people, in- vested this ceremony witli extraordinary pomp. A preacher explained, in succession, each of the seven words pronounced by Jesus from the cross ; and the intervals left between each exposition, for the indulgence of the com- punction of the faithful, were to be filled up by a music worthy of the greatness of the subject. The directors of this sacred spec- tacle, caused an advertisement to be circulated througliout Europe, in which they offered a 133 considerable reward to any composer who should supply seven grand symphonies, ex- pressive of the sentiments which each of the seven words of the Saviour ought to inspire. Haydn alone made the attempt ; he sent those symphonies, in which, Spiega con tal pietate il suo concetto, E il suon con tal dolcezza v' accompagna, Che al ciudo inferno intenerisce il petto.* Dante, But of what use is it to praise them .? It is necessary to hear them with the feelings of a christian, — to weep, believe, and shudder. Michael Haydn, the brother of our composer, afterwards added words, and an air, to this sublime instrumental music. Without chang- ing it in any respect, he rendered it an ac- companiment; an immense labour, which would have daunted a Monteverde, or a * His prayer is expressed in such touching accents, the sounds Avhich accompany it are so soft, that the obduracy of hell is melted by them. K 3 )34 Palestrina. This additional air is for four voices.* Some of the symphonies of Haydn were written for the holidays of the church. f Through all the sorrow which they express, I fancy I can perceive the characteristic viva- city of Haydn, and here and there, movements of anger, by which the author, perhaps, in« * From the preface to the original edition in score, published at Leipsip, by Messrs. Breitkopf and Hartel, it would appear that Haydn himself executed this work. He expresses himself as folloyvs : " Die Musik war urspriing' lich ohneText, und in dieser Gestalt istsie auch gedruckt worden. Erst spaterhin wurde ich veranlasst, den Text unter/ulegen, so dass also das Oratorium : ' Die sieben Worte des Heylandes am Kreuze,' jezt zum Erstenmale bey Herrn Breitkopf and Hartel, in Leipzig, als ein voll- standiges, und was die Vokalrausik betrifft, ganz neues Werk erscheint." Wien, im Marz, 1801. Joseph Haydn. *' The music was originally without words, and in thi:^ form it has been printed. It is but lately that I bad an opportunity of adding these ; so that, consequently, the oratorio of ' The Seven Words of the Saviour on the Cross,' appears now, for the first time, as a complete, and, as far as regards the vocal music, an entirely new work." Vienna, March, 1801. Joseph Haydn. T, t They are in G major, D major, and C minor. I 1^5 tended to represent the Jews crucifying their Saviour. The abstract, my dear Louis, of what I have often experienced, on hearing Haydn's symphonies, when I have endeavoured to trace how they came to please me, is this. I first distinguished their general qualities, or the style which was common to all of them, and afterwards sought for the resemblances which this style might have to that of well-known masters. The precepts given by Bach are found to be occasionally adopted. Something is taken from Pux, and Porpora, with respect to the management, and display, of the different instruments ; and in the ideal part, the author has developed some beautiful germs of ideas contained in the works of the Milanese San Martini, and Jomelli. But these slight traces of imitation are far from depriving him of the merit of possessing an original style, worthy of effecting the re- Tolution which it has actually produced in instrumental music. In the same way, it is not impossible that the lovely Correggio may K. 4 136 have taken some ideas from the sublime chiaro-scuro which forms the charm of the Leda_, the St. Jerome, and the Madonna alia Scodella, in the pictures of Fra Bartolomeo, and Lionardo da Vinci. Nevertheless, he is justly considered as the inventor of a branch of the art, which has made the moderns ac- quainted with a second source of ideal beauty. As the Apollo exemplifies the beauty of form and contour; so the *^Night' of Dresden, by its shades, and semi-tints, awakens in the mind, lost in a pleasing- reverie, that sensa- tion of delight, which elevates and carries it out of itself, and which has been called the sublime. 137 LETTER XL Salzburg, May 11, 1809. My Friend, > Notwithstanding a cast of physiognomy rather morose, and a short way of express- ing himself, which seemed to indicate an ill- tempered man, the character of Haydn was gay, open, and humorous. This vivacity, it is true, was easily repressed by the presence of strangers, or persons of superior rank. In Germany, nothing is suffered tojevel the dis- tinctions of society : it is the land of cere- mony. At Paris, the cordons bleus went to see d'Alembert in his garret ; in Austria, Haydn never associated with any but the musicians, his colleagues ; society, as well as himself, were doubtless losers by this circumstance. His gaiety, and the copiousness of his ideas, well fitted him for the display of the comic in instrumental music, a genus almost new, and in which he would have made great progress ; 138 but to succeed in which^ as in every thing that relates to comedy, it is indispensible that the author be in the habit of the most ele- gant society. Haydn was not introduced to the great world till the decline of life, during his visits to London. His genius naturally inclined him to use his instruments so as to produce laughter. At the rehearsals, he frequently gave short pieces of this kind of music, in which at present we have but little, to the performers his companions. You will, therefore, excuse me for imparting to you my little store of comic erudition. The most, ancient musical pleasantry with which I am acquainted, is, that of Merula,* one of the most profound contrapuntists of an age when the air had not yet penetrated the music. He composed a fugue represent- ing some schoolboys reciting before their master the Latin pronoun qui, qua, quod, which they had not well learned. The con- • Merula. He flourished about 1630. 139 fusion, the perplexity, the barbarisms of the scholars, mingled with the exclamations of their enraged master, who exercises the ferule among them, had the happiest effect. That musical Pindar, the Venetian Bene- detto Marcello, so grave and sublime ia his sacred compositions, is the author of the well-known piece called the Capriccio, in which he ridicules the castratij whom he cor- dially detested. Two tenors and two counter-tenors begin by singing together these three verses : No, che lass^ nei cori almi e beati, Non intrano castrati, Perche scritto ^ in geral loco .... The soprano here interrupts them, in solOj and asks, Dite : che ^ scritto mai ? The tenors and counter-tenors reply in a very low key. Arbor che non fra frutto Arda nel fuoco. On which, the soprano cries out at the other extremity of the scale, Ahi! ahi! 140 The effect of this expressive piece is in- credible. The extreme distances which the author has placed between the shrill tones of the unfortunate soprano, and the deep voices of the tenors, produces the most ridiculous melody in the world. The nasal uniformity of the Capuchins^ who are even expressly forbidden to sing, or to deviate from the key, has furnished Jomelli with a subject for pleasantry. The elegant Galuppi, so well known by his comic operas, and his sacred music, has not thought it beneath him to set to music the singing of a synagogue, and a quarrel be- tween some fruit-women in the market of Venice. At Vienna, the methodical turn of the people has set apart a particular day for pleasantries of this sort. About the middle of the eighteenth century, the eve of the festival of St. Cecilia was devoted to music in every family, and custom required that the gravest professors should, on that day, present their friends with comic compositions. An Augustine father, of the beautiful con- 141 vent of St. Florian, in Austria, took a singular text for the subject of his pleasantries: he composed a mass which^ without occasioning scandal, has long had the privilege of making the sides both of the singers and auditors ache with laughter. You are acquainted with the humourous canons of Father Martini of Bologna, that of th^ Tipplers, that of the Bells, and that of the Old Nuns. ' The celebrated Clementi, the rival of Mo- zart in his compositions for the piano, has published at London, that land of caricatures, a collection of musical caricatures, in which he has mimicked the most celebrated com- posers for the piano. Whoever has the slightest acquaintance with the manner of Mozart, Haydn, Koseluch, Sterkel, &c. and hears these little sonatas, composed of a prelude and a cadence, immediately guesses the master that is ridiculed: his style is recognised, and espe- cially the little affectations and errors, to which he is most subject. In the time of Charles VI,, the celebrated Porpora lived at Vienna, poor and unem- 142 ployed. His music did not please the iinpe« rial connoisseur, as being too full of trills and mordenti. Hasse wrote an oratorio for the emperor, who asked him for a second He entreated his majesty to permit Porpora to execute it. The emperor at first refused, saying that he did not like that capering style; but, touched with Hasse's generosity, he at length complied with his request. Porpdra, having received a hint from his friend, did not introduce a single trill in the whole oratorio. The emperor, surprised, continually repeated, during the rehearsal ; " 'Tis quite a different man; here are no trills!" But when they came to the fugue, which concluded the sacred composition, he observed that the theme com- menced with four trilled notes. Now you know that in fugues, the subject passes from one part to another, but does not change. When the emperor, who was privileged nfever to laugh, heard in the full height of the fugue this deluge of trills, which seemed like the music of some enraged paralytics, he could no longer maintain his gravity, and laughed, perhaps for the first time in his life. In France, 6 143 the land of pleasantry, this might have appeared misplaced ; but at Vienna, it was the commencement of Porpora's fortune. Of all Haydn's comic pieces, there remains but one ; that well known symphony, during which all the instruments disappear, one after the other, so that at the conclusion, the first violin is left playing by itself. This singular piece has given rise to three anecdotes, all of which are attested at Vienna by eye-wit- nesses. Judge how I am embarrassed in making a selection. Some persons say that Haydn, perceiving that his innovations were ill received by the prince's performers, determined to play a joke upon them. He caused his symphony to be performed, without a previous rehearsal, before his high- ness, who was in the secret. The embarrass- ment of the performers, who all thought they had made a mistake, and especially the con- fusion of the first violin, when at the end he found he was playing by himself, diverted the court of Eisenstadt. Others assert, that the prince, having deter- jonined to dismiss all his band, except Haydn, 144 the latter imagined this ingenious way ol' re- presenting- the general departure^ and the dejection of spirits consequent upon it. Each performer left the concert-room as soon as his part was ended. I spare you the third story.* At another timCj Ilaydn^ desirous of di- verting the prince's company, went and bought at a fair near Eisensfadt, a whole basket-full of whistles, little fiddles, cuckoos, wooden * The biographer !)as Jiot mentioned another pleasantry which Haydn has introduced into a Sinfonia, called " La Distratta." Before commencing the last movement, the violins are directed to lower the fourth string, G, down to F. The instruments being thus prepared, the movement commences with a pert and joking subject, which is soon interrupted by a pause ; after which, the first violins begin to sound the open strings, E and A, together, for two bars : and the same of D and A, when they arrive at a passage where the lowered string F is directed to be screwed up gradually through four bars, so as to bring it in tune on the fifth bar. You are surprised at the caprice of the performers, who stop one after another, to tune their violins in the middle of the piece, and it is not till after twelve bars have been employed in this ludicrous way, that you are relieved from your embarrassment, and the subject is suffered to proceed, G. 145 trumpets, and other such instruments as de- light children. He was at the pains of studying^ their compass, and character, and composed a most amusing- symphony with these instruments only, some of which even executed solos : the cuckoo is the general bass of the piece. Many years afterwards, when Haydn was in England, he perceived that the English, who were very fond of his instrumental com- positions, when the movement was lively and allegro, generally fell asleep during the andantes or adagios, in spite of all the beauties he could accumulate. He therefore wrote an andante, full of sweetness, and of the most tranquil movement ; all the instruments seemed gradually to die away ; but, in the middle of the softest pianissimo, striking up all at once, and reinforced by a stroke on the kettle-drum, they made the slumbering audi- ence start. 'AiiuDhw iaj^iii 146 LETTER XII. Salzburg, May 17, 1809. My dear Friend, We have, for a sufficient length of time, followed Haydn in a career where he was unquestionably superior; let us now see what he was in vocal music. We possess compositions of his in the three following genera, viz. Masses, Operas, and Oratorios. We can do little more than conjecture what Haydn was in theatrical music. The operas which he composed for prince Esterhazy, perished in the conflagration of the arcliives of Eisenstadt, which, together with Haydn's house. Were burned to the ground. He thus lost most of his compo- sitions in this department. The only ones preserved, are the Armida, La vera Costanza^ and the Speziale, which were, perhaps^ the least valuable. 14T When Jomelli went to Padua, to write an opeta, he perceived that the vocal perform- ers, both male and female, were utterly des- titute of merit, and were, moreover, not at all desirous of displaying any. — " Wretches,'* said he to them, ''I'll make tlie orchestra sing; the opera shall rise to the clouds, and you shall g'o to the devil." The band of Prince Esterhazy, though not altogether so bad as that of Padua, was not very capital ; besides, Haydn, attached to his country by a thousand ties, did not leave it till the decline of his life, and never wrote for public theatres. These considerations are preparatory, my dear Louis, to the confession which I am about* to make, relative to the dramatic music of our author. He had found instrumental nmsic in its infancy : vocal music, on the contrary, was at the height of its glory when he appeared. Pergolese, Leo, Scarlatti, Guglielmi, Pic- cini, and twenty others, had carried it to a degree of perfection, which has never since been reached, or at least surpassed, except L 2 148 by Cimarosa and Mozart. Haydn did not rise to the beauty of the melodies of these celebrated men. It must be allowed^ that in this genus he has been surpassed by his contemporaries Sacchini, Cimarosa, Zin- garelli, Mozart, &c. and even by his suc- cessors, Tarchi, Nazolini, Fioravanti, Fari- nelli, &c. You, who are fond of seeking in the men- tal constitution of artists the causes of the qualities observable in their works, will per- haps agree with me in the idea I have formed of Haydn. It will not be disputed that he had a vast and vigorous imagination, endowed, in a supreme degree, with a cre- ative power ; but, perhaps, he did not possess an equal share of sensibility : and yet, unless an author have the misfortune to be afflicted with this, he cannot describe love, he cannot write vocal, or dramatic music. That natural hilarity and joy fulness of character, which I have before alluded to, never allowed a cer- tain tender sentiment of melancholy to ap- proach this tranquil and happy spirit. Now, in order to compose, as well as to hear, dra- 149 matic musiCj a man should be able to say with Jessica, " I'm never merry when I hear sweet music." Merchant of Venice, act 5. scene 1. A certain degree of tenderness and melan- choly is also necessary to find pleasure in the Cantatrici villane* or in the Nemici g-ewerosi.f The reason of this is evident: if you are in a gay humour, your imagination does not wish to be diverted from the images which occupy it. Another reason is, that in order to command the feelings of his auditors, it is necessary that Haydn's imagination should be perfectly at liberty ; as soon as it is fettered by words, it loses its character : written scenes appear to recall it too often to matters of sentiment; Haydn, therefore, will always hold the first place among landscape-painters : he will be the Claude Lorraine of music, but he will * A chef-d'oeuvre of Fioravanti, highly esteemed at Paris. t A highly comic opera of the admirable Cimarosa. l3 150 never occupy in the theatre, that iSj in music wholly sentimental, the place of Raphael.^ * The canzonets, which Haydn wrote during his resi- dence in this country, are but little known on the conti- nent, and must surely huve been absent from tlie'autbor's ^€Collectioa yifien he wrote tKe above remarks. In our opinion, they completely refute any ide^^ of Haydn's io- ability to excel in the vocal, or sentimental, departments of music. The first of them, " My mother bids me bind my hair," may be considered as a perfect exhibition of the line of ^>eauty in music. The intervals through which the melody passes are so minute, so soft, and delicate, that all the ideas of grace iind loveliness are awakened in the mind, and we admire the genius which could so accompany this beautiful song without injuring its simplicity. The next, on Absence, "The season comes when first we met," presents a picture, in which all the sombre hues of even- ing are blended with a masterly hand. In the former were displayed the enlivening tints of the morning, but here nothing sparkles : — a fixed melancholy pervades the piece. In the last couplet, we feel the imterrogatory powers of 151 You will say, that he who actually pos- sesses this place was the gayest of men. Doubtless, Cimarosa was gay in the world : what can a man do better ? but I should be sorry, for the sake of my theory, if love or music, and our dejection is for a time relieved ; but we soon return to the gloom and despondency in which we were before involved. The Canzonet on Fidelity, " While hollow burst the rushing winds," «xhibits a faithful attachment under an excess of misery. The |first strokes of the symphony awaken in us a senti- ment of terror; and the boldness of the accompaniment raises ideas correspondent with the grand natural imagery to which it refers. In the midst of this tempest of the feelings, some soft rays occasionally intervene to cheer us with hope ; but the harmony, in rapid transitions, hur- ries us back again into its darkest recesses. In the two last lines, the clouds of despair break and vanish, and the in- spiring melody of the major key suddenly bursts upon us in a flood of radiant harmony. Such, in short, is our idea of these elegant compositions, that we would challenge any author, in any language, to produce their equal in simple gracefulness, and exquisite sensibility, G. l4- 152 revenge had never made a fool of him. Did not one of the most agreeable of his successors, a short time since, pass a whole night, in the month of January, in the most disagreeable place possible, in expectation that a lively female singer would fulfil the promise she had made him ? . . I would lay a wager, that Cimarosa's gaiety did not consist in epigrams and repartees, like that of Genfil Bernard.* You see, my friend, jthat my devotion to my saint does not carry me too far. I place the writers of symphonies in the class of landscape, and the composers of operas in that of historical painters. Twice or thrice only, has Haydn risen to this grand genus; and then he was Michael Angelo, and Lio- nardo da Vinci. * Pierre Joseph Bernard, born in 1710 ; died 1779. The politeness of his manners, and the smartness of his repartees, obtained for him the epithet, ' Gentil,' by which he is here designated. His poetry chiefly consists of anacreontic, and epigrammatic pieces. T. 163 Let us console ourselves ; we shall see his talent re-appear, when we come to speak of his sacred music and his oratorios. In the latter inore especially, which afford a better bpportutity for the display of the Pindaric •than of the dramatic j^euius, he was again subVime, and augmented the glory he had acquired as a symphonist. 'ii:'j j. >i...,; I perceive that, through a desire of being impartial, I am, perhaps, doing injustice to our friend. Have you ever heard his Ariadne in Naxos ? All my calumnies shall be re- ferred to their proper places.* V«;{; /V.'^ * What we have seen of his Ariadne in Naxos, is far from lessening our estimation of his talent for the opera. He who composed the air, " Teseo, mio hen," and imparted such tenderness to sounds, must have been capable of excelling in every department of the art. The recitatives are not a tissue of common-place resolutions, which tire the ear, and relax the attention ; but are enlivened and interspersed with the most finished strains of melody. The pleasure we derived in perusing this morceuu, con- vinces us, that the musical world has reason to lament the conflagration at Eisenstadt, which destroyed his dra- matic writings. G. I am of opinion, that music differs from painting, and from the other fine arts, in this : that in the former, the physical plea- sure, received by the sense of hearing-, is more powerful and essential than the intel- lectual enjoyment. This physical pleasure is the basis of music ; and, 1 am inclined to think, that the ear is still more gratified than the heart, in hearing Madame Barilli sing. Vol che sapete Che cosa e amore. A fine chord enchants the ear, a false note tortures it : yet, neither of these say any thing intelligible to the mind ; nothing that we could write down if required. It only gives it either pain or pleasure. It appears, that of all the organs of sense, the ear is most easily affected by agreeable or unpleasant impressions. The smell, and the touch, are also very susceptible of pleasure or pain. The eye is the least sensible of all, and has very little perception of physical pleasure. Show a beautiful picture to a boor, he will expe- rience no great delight, because the gratifi- 156 fiction arising from the sight of a fine picture;, is almost entirely intellectual. He will cer- tainly prefer a gaudy sign-painting to the " Christ calling St. Matthew/' of Louis Ca- racci. Let him, on the other hand, hear a fine air well sung, he will, perhaps, manifest some signs of pleasure ; while an ill-sung air will give him some pain. Go to the Museum, on a Sunday, you will find the passage, at a certain part of the gallery, blocked up by the crowd collected before a picture : and every Sunday the same. You would suppose it is a master-piece: — by no means; 'tis a daub of the German school, representing the last Judgement. The populace are fond of seeing the grimaces of the damned. Follow the same people to the spectacle, exhibited gratis in the evening, you will see them applauding, with transport, the airs sung by Madame Branchu ; though, in the morning, the pictures of Paul Veronese were without meaning to them. Hence I conclude, that if, in music, the physical pleasure, which is the principal 156 thing, be sacrificed to any other object, what we hear is no longer music ; it is a noise which offends our ears, under pretence of moving our hearts ; and this, I think, is the reason why I could never hear any of Gluck's operas through with pleasure. Adieu. 157 LETTER XIII. Salzburg, May 18, 1809. Melody, that is to say, that agreeable suc- cession of analogous sounds which pleasantly affects the ear, without ever offending it ; the melody, for instance, of the air, Signora Contessina,* * I speak so often of the Matrimonio segreto, which is Cimarosa's master-piece, and which I consider as well known at Paris, that I have been advised to give a short abstract of the piece, for those amateurs who reside elsewhere. Geronimo, a rich merchant of Venice, who was rather deaf, had two daughters, Caroline and Elisette. The lovely Caroline had recently consented to marry, secretly, Paolino, her father's head clerk ; (a) but the old man (a) The piece opens with two duets, full of tenderness, which explain the plot, and excite an immediate interest in the lovers. Cara, cara, is the commencement of the first duet, and the words, lo ti lascio perche uniti, of the second. 168 sung by madame Barilli in the Matrimonio segreio, is the principal means by which this physical pleasure is produced. The har- was aiming at nobility, and they were greatly embarrassed how to make known their marriage to him. Paolino, who sought every opportunity of cultivating his good graces, had arranged a match for Elisette, the elde^t daughter, with the count Robinson. Geroninio is delighted with the prospect of being- allied to a title, and of seeing his daughter a countess, (b) The count arrives, and is pre- sented to the family, (c) The charms of Caroline make him change his intention ; (dj he informs Paolino, Caro- line's lover, that he is going to demand her in marriage. ; instead of Elisette, and that in order to bring the old mer- (b) He sings the fine counter-tenor air, Le orecchie spalancate, in which the truest ridicule, and the most affecting sentiment, are singularly united. We laugh at Geronimo, but we love him ; and every odious feeling is removed from the mind of the spectator through all the remainder of the piece. (cj He sings, as he enters, the air^ Stnza Jar cerimonie. (d) II cor m'ha ingannato. Afterwards follows a fine quar- tett, describing the most profound passion, without any mixture of melancholy. This is one of those pieces which best mark the difference of the routes followed by Cima- rosa and Mozart. Imagine the latter trea^tiug the subject of this quartett. 159 mony comes afterwards. It is the air which is the charm of music^ said Haydn, inces- santly. It is also that which it is most diffi- chant to consent to the exchange, a matter of little con- sequence in a mere match of convenience, he will be satis- fied with a portion of 50,000 crowns, instead of 100,000 as agreed on. (ej Elisette, who is highly offended at the count's coldness, surprises him, kissing the hand of Caro- line, and reports his conduct to Fidalraa, the old mer- chant's sister, (f) who, for her part, thinks that her great fortune renders herself a very eligible match for Paolino. Geronimo, who is deaf, does not clearly understand the count's proposal, or the complaints of Elisette, (gj and falls into a passion, which concludes the first act. (h) The second contains a dispute between the count and Geronimo : it is the famous duet, Se Jiato in corpo avete ; the despair of Caroline, who is threatened with the con- Tent ; the proposal of Fidalma to Paolino ; (i) and the (e) A touching duet, which Paohno commences with the beautiful address : Deh Signore ! (f) Air: lo voglio sumrrar la casa e la cittd. (g) Air : Voi credete che i sposi Jaccian come i plebei. ("A^ We never find in Mozart passages of this sort, master-pieces of spirit and gaiety ; but, at the same time, »uch an air as Dove son i bei momenti, in the mouth of Caroline, would have described her situation in a manner more affecting. (i) Air : Ma coH tin matito via ni€g'i'i» si std. 160 cult to produce. Patience and study are sufficient for the composition of agreeable accords, but the invention of a fine air is a jealousy of Caroline, who sings a noble air, >irhich has been suppressed at Paris, and which is the air a preten- tion of the piece : Pria che spunti in del l' aurora. Before the dawn in heaven appear. She forgives Paolino, who informs her of the measures which he has taken for their secret departure. The count and Elisette meet, in going to the saloon for torches, as they are about to retire to their apartments for the night. The count declares, that he cannot marry her. (k) About midnight, the trembling Caroline ap- pears with her lover. As they cross the saloon, to make their escape, they hear a noise still in the house ; and Paolino returns, with his wife, to her chamber. Elisette, whom jealousy prevents from sleeping, hears some persons talking in the chamber, thinks that it is the count, and calls her father, (I) and her aunt, who had already retired to rest. They knock at the door of Caroline's room : she comes out with her lover. Every thing is discovered ; and (k) Very beautiful air of Farinelli: Signorina, io non v'amo- (I) Air : // conte sta chiuso con mia zerellina. 161 work of genius. I have often thought, that if there were a musical academy in France, the examination of the candidates might be easily arranged. They need only be requested to send ten lines of music, no more. Mozart would write, " Voi che sapete." FiGAKO. Cimarosa, " Da che il caso e disperato." Matrimonio. Paesiello, " ;Quelli la." La Molinara. But what would Mr , and Mr , and Mr , write ? at the entreaty of the count, who addresses the father in the fine air, Ascoltatt un uom del mondo : Listen to a man of the world : and who, in order to obtain Caroline's pardon, consents to marry Elisette, the lovers are forgiven. This piece was originally written by the celebrated Gar- \ rick. In the English play, the character of the sister is atrocious, and the whole drama dark and gloomy. The Italian piece, on the contrary, is a sportive little comedy, in which the music is very happily introduced. { 162 The truth is, a fine air needs neither orna- ments nor accessories in order to please. Would you know whether it be really fine ? Strip it of its accompaniments. We may say of a beautiful melody, what Aristenaetes said of his mistress : Induitur formosa est ; txuitur ipsa forma est : Beauteous when robed ; unrobed, she is beauty's self. As for the music of Gluck, to which you refer, Caesar said to a poet, who was reciting some verses to him, "' You sing- too much to be reading-, and read too much to be singing." Occasionally, however, Gluck has found the way to the heart, either in delicate and tender airs, as in the lamentations of the Nymphs of TlicHsaly over the tomb of Admetus ; or in strong and vibrating notes, as in the scene of Orpheus and the Furies. It is the same with music in a composition, as with love in the heart, — unless it reign sovereign there, unless every thing be sacri- ficed to it, it is not love. This granted, how are we to obtain a fine air.> By the same means, exactly, as Cor- J63 neille found his " Qu'il mourut* Hundred* of Laharpesf can make passable tragedies; they rank with the professors of deep harmony, who abound in Germany. Their music is correct, it is learned, it is elaborate ; it has only one fault, — it makes us yawn. _- * A celebrated passage in Coraeille's tragedy of" Horace." The subject is the combat between the Horatii, and Cu- riatii, as related by Livy. In Act iii. Scene 6, JuUa, a Roman lady, informs Horatius, the father, that all is lost for Rome ; that two of his sons have already fallen, and that the survivor has only saved himself by flight. This stratagem, bj which he divided, and, ultimately, overcame his opponents, the old man considers as the effect of cowardice; and, with true Roman spirit, more afflicted by the supposed degeneracy of his remaining son, than by the loss of the two who have gloriously perished, he breaks forth into indignant imprecations on the poltroon who has thus disgraced the family name. Julia intercedes for him, by asking, " What would you have him do, against three V The father replies, in the words here quoted, " Qu'il mourut," DIE. Voltaire says of this passage, that there is nothing com- parable to it in all antiquity. T. t Laharpe was tutor to Alexander, the present emperor of Russia. Our author's opinion of his literary talents, is sufficiently evident ; and we believe it is shared by most of his countrymen. T. M 2 164 ■ In my opinion, to produce a musical Cor- neille, requires the fortunate union of an exquisite ear to an impassioned heart. It is necessary that these two kinds of sensation should be so combined, that even in his most gloomy moments, when he thinks his mistress faithless, the young- Sacchini should feel plea- sure from a few notes accidentally hummed by a passenger. Hitherto such minds have been produced only in the regions of Vesu- vius. ^Vhat is the reason of this ? I can- not tell you, but look at the list of great musicians. The German music is spoiled by the fre- quency of modulation, and the richness of the chords. This nation is fond of learning in every thing, and would unquestionably have a better music, or rather a music more after the Italian style, if its young men were less attached to science, and rather fonder of plePiSure. Take a ualk in Gbttingen ; you will see a number of tall, fair, young men, rather pedantic, rather melancholy, walking with a springing gait, scrupulously exact to their hours of study, led away by their 1^ imagination, but scarcely ever by their pas- sions. • The ancient Flemish music was only a tissue of chords, destitute of ideas. They made their music as they made their pictures ; a great deal of labour, a great deal of pa- tience, and nothing more. The amateurs throughout Europe, with the exception of the French, think the melody of a neighbouring nation jerking and irre- gular ; at once, trailing and barbarous ; and, above all, wearisome. The melody of the English is too uniform, if, indeed, they can be said to possess any.* It is the * If by national melody, be understood those airs, and song tunes, which partake of the peculiar character of the people amongst whom they are found, it must be al- lowed that we have none. It is probable that the first regular airs were introduced into this country, by the Troubadours, or Minstrels, from France. But in the musical records of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, .we find scarcely any thing that will bear the name of melody. Even the best regulated strains are constructed with so little reference to harmony, that the intervals seem to follow one another more by chance than design. M 3 166 same with the Russians ; and^ strange to aay,, with the Spaniards. Who could have ima- gined, that a land so favoured by the sun, the country of the Cid, and of those martial troubadours who were to be found even in the armies of Charles V., should have pro- duced no distine^uished musicians ? That Our countryman. Parcel, was the first who connected melody with language, and laid the basis of English song in the national air of *' Britons, strike home." He was, also, the inventor of the Catch ; a species of music peculiar to this country. His compositions of this kind, were written for the amusement of the profligate court of Charles H. Many of them are tine examples of canon, 'dnd fugue ; and had they been associated with less exceptionable words, would have been universal favourites. The Glee is of later introduction, and was probably derived from the ancient ^ladiigal. Though its appellation seems to denote, that mirth and jollity are its peculiar department, it is of a more serious cast than the former ; and has been carried, by the taste and genius of Webbe, to a degree of perfection, which excites the admiration of foreigners. The Anthem is another species of music exclusively our own ; and, in general, our sacred music is highly respect- able, where that department of the service is at all at- fended to in our churches. Q. 167 brave nation^ so capable of great thingsy whose romances breathe such sensibility and melancholy, possesses no more than two or three distinct airs. It should seem, that the Spaniards are not fond of a multiplicity of ideas in their affections ; one or two only, but deep, constant, and indestructible. There is not sufficient distinctness in the music of the Orientals, it resembles more a prolonged cry, than any sort of air. In Italy, an opera is composed of an air^ and of accompaniments, or instrumental mu- sic. The latter is rendered entirely subser- vient to the former, and is used only to in- crease the effect of it; though occasionally the description of some striking natural scenery, gives a proper opportunity for the instrumental music to display itself. Instru- ments, having a more extensive compass than the human voice, and a greater variety of sounds, can represent things which the voice cannot: such, for instance, as a tempest, or a forest disturbed by the nocturnal bowlings of savage beasts. In an opera, the instruments may give, M 4 168 from time to time^, those energetic, distinct^ and characteristic touches^ which give life to the whole composition. As, for instance, the orchestra passage in the quartetto of the first act of the Matrimonio segreto, which follows the words, Cosi un poco il suo orgoglio. Haydn, accustomed to give himself up to the tire of his imagination, and to wield the orchestra as Hercules did his club, when con- strained to follow the ideas of a poet, and to moderate his instrumental luxuriancy, appears like a giant in fetters. The music is well constructed, but there is no longer any warmth, genius, or nature. All his brilliant originality disappears ; and, wonderful to say, the man who exalts tlie importance of melody, on every occasion, and who is continually recurring to this doctrine, forgets it in his own works. In the same manner our fashion- able authors extol, in inflated periods, the beautiful siniplicity of the writers of the age of Louis XIV. Haydn himself, in some degree, allows his 169 mediocrity in this genus. He says^ that if he had had an opportunity of passing a few years in Italy^ of hearing the delightful voices^ and studying the masters of the Nea- politan school, he should have succeeded as well in the opera as he has done in instru- mental music. This I am doubtful of: ima- gination and sensibility are two different things, A man may write the fifth book of the Eneidj describe funereal games with a brilliant and majestic touch,, paint the com- bat of Dares and Entellus, and yet be unable to make Dido die in a natural and affecting manner. The passions cannot be contem- plated like the setting sun. At Naples^ na- ture offers a beautiful sun-set twenty times in a month, to a Claude Lorraine ; but whence did Raphael take the expression of his Ma- donna della seggiola ? — from his own mind. no LETTER XIV. Salzbuj's, May 21, 1809. You are desirous, my dear Louis, that 1 should write to Naples, to obtain some intel- ligence respecting the music of that country. Since I refer to it so frequently, you say, I ought to make you acquainted with it. You have heard it said, that the music becomes more original in proportion as we advance towards the south of Italy. You love tine delightful Parthenope which inspired Virgil : you envy his lot. Wearied with revolution- ary storms, you wish you could say : Illo me tempore dulcis alebat Parthenope, studiis florentem ignobilis oti. Lastly, you observe, that as the music which was composed there, during the times of this happy repose, was intended to please the Neapolitans, and has so well accomplished its object, it is by a native of the country that it ought to be judged. 171 What you desire is already done. The following sketch of the music of the Nea- politan schoolj was given me some years ago by a tall abbe, wedded to his violoncello, and a constant frequenter of the theatre of San Carlo, where I believe he has not missed a single performance for forty years. 1 am only a translator, and have made no alteration in his opinions, with which I do not entirely agree. You will observe that he does not even mention Cimarosa ; the reason of this is, that, in 1803, it was not ad- viseable to name him at Naples. Naples, October 10, 1803. " Esteemed Friend, " Naples has had four schools* of vocal and instrumental music : but only three exist * Although more money is expended upon music in England than in any other country in Europe, we have no national establishment for the study of the art. Italy, and Germany, have long had their academies, from which we are under the necessity of importing the talent which distinguishes our musical representations. 172 at this day, which contain about two hun- dred and thirty pupils^. Each school has a difl'erent uniform. The scholars of Santa Maria di Loretto are dressed in white ; those of La Pieta in turquoise, or sky blue. France, though a nation of less musical pretension than ourselves, has, in the midst of her revolution, established her Conservatoire, a sort of musical university, where every branch of the art has its separate school, and pro- fessor, and in which all the science of the present day is displayed. Were the sinecure funds, and nominal professors, at- tached to Gresham College, and to both the universities, employed agreeably to their original destination, an aca- demy of music might be established in this country supe- rior to any similar institution in Europe. A music-hall of sufficient magnitude should be erected, in which the students would be called upon to exhibit, monthly, be- fore the public. To this should be attached a library, where every author in the art should be required to de- posit the copy-right of his works, and thus would be pre- served from perishing, those early writers, many of whom must otherwise soon be lost. Such an institution, attached to the sister art in Somer- set-House, and directed by the well-known taste and judgment of the Regent, would be an ornament to his reigfl, and an honour to the country. G. 173 whence they are sometimes called Turchini; those of Sant' Onofrio in puce colour and white. It is from these schools that the greatest musicians of the world have pro- ceeded ; which is very natural, for our coun- try is fonder of music than any other. The great composers whom Naples has produced;, lived at the beginning of the eighteenth cen- tury. '' It is proper that we should distinguish the composers who have occasioned revolu- tions in music in general, from those who cultivated only one species of it^ ^' Among the former, we shall place before every other Alessandro Scarlatti, who must be considered as the founder of the modern art of music, since it is to him that we owe the science of counterpoint. He was a native of Messina, and died about 1725. '^ Porpora died in poverty about 1770, at the age of ninety. He has written many works for the theatre, which are still re= garded as models ; and his cantatas are even superior. ^'^ Leo was his pupil, and surpassed his 174 master. He died in 1745, at the age of forty- two. His manner is inimitable : the air osoim Misero pargoletto, in his Deniophoon^ is a chef-d'ceuvre of ex- pression. '' Francesco Durante was born at Grumo, a village near Naples. The glory of render- ing counterpoint easy was reserved for him. The cantatas of Scarlatti^ arranged as duets^ I consider as his finest works. " At the head of the musicians of the second order, we shall place Vinci_, the father of all who have written for the theatre. His merit consists in uniting great expression to a pro- found knowledge of counterpoint. His best work is th« Artaxerxes of Metastasio. He died in 1732, in the flower of his age ; poisoned, as it is said, by a relative of a Roman lady, for whom he had an attach- ment. " Giambattista Jesi, was born at Pergola, in the March of Ancona, from which cir- cumstance he was called Pergolese. He was brought up in on^ of the schools of Naples, 175 under Durante^ and died in 1733^ at the age of twenty-five. He was a true genius. His immortal works are the Stahat Mater, the air Si cerca se dice in the Olimpiade, and the Serva maestra in the buffa genus. Father Martini has remarked, that Pergolese was so superior in this last department, and had such a natural inclination for it, that there are comic subjects even in the Stahat Mater. In general, his style is melancholy and ex- pressive. '' Hasse, called the Saxon, was a pupil of Scarlatti, and was the most natural composer of his time. " Jomelli was born at A versa, and died in 177.5. He has displayed a comprehensive genius. The Miserere, and the Benedictus, are his finest works in the noble and simple style ; the Armida, and Iphigenia, the best of his compositions for the theatre. He was too fond of the instruments. " David Perez, who was born at Naples, and died about 1790, composed a Credo, which, in certain solemnities, is still sung in tjjje church of the Fathers of the Oratorio, 3 176 Where people still go to hear it as ori- ginal. He was one of the latest composers who maintained the rigonr of connterpoint. He has labonrecl with success for the church and the theatre. " Traetta, the master and companion of Sacchini, in the Conservatorio of Saint Mary of Loretto, pursued the same career as his pupil. He had more art than Sacchini, who is considered as having- more genius. The character of Sacchini is ease^ full of gaiety. Among his serious compositions are distinguished the recitative J5ere???ce chefai? with the air which follows it. " Bach, born in Germany, was educated at Naples. He is a favourite, on account of the tenderness which breathes in his compo- sitions. The music which he wrote for the duet Se raai i)ii^ sarc> geloso, appears to advantage even amongst the airs which the most excellent masters have com- posed to these words. Bach may be said to have been particularly successful in express- ing irony. 2 177 " All these professors died about 1780. " Piccini has rivalled Jomelli in the noble style, , Nothing can be superior to his duet Fra queste ombre meste, o car a! Perhaps he ought to be accounted the founder of the present bufFa theatre. " PaesiellOj Guglielmi, and Anfossi, are the most celebrated of his disciples. But notwithstanding their works^, the decline of music at Naples is evident and rapid. Adieu." iEras of some composers. Durante, born 1693, died 1755. Leo, — 1694, — 1745. Vinci, — 1705, — 1732. Hasse, — 1705, — 1759. Handel, — 1684, — 1759. Galuppi, — 1703, — 1785. Jomelli, — 1714, — 1774. Porpora, — 1685, — 1767. Benda, — 1714, -— .... Piccini, — 1728, — 1800. Sacchini, ~ 1735, — 1786. N 178 Paesiello^ born 1741, died .... Guglielmi, — 1727, — 180^. Anfossi, — 1736, — 1775. Sarti, — 1730, — 18(/2. Zingarelli, — 1752. — .... Traetta, — 1738, — 1779.* Ch. Bach, — 1735, 1782 Mayer, about 1760. Mosca, about 1775. * Traetta, a profound, and melancholic artist, excels in the dark and picturesque eftects of harmony. In his Sophonisba, that queen thiows herself between her hus- band and her lover, who are seeking to combat each other : " Cruel men," says she to them, " Avhat would you do 1 if you wish for blood, strike ! behold my bo- som!" and as they still persist in going out for the pur- pose, she cries out, " Whither are you going 1 Ah ! no !" At this ah! the air is interrupted : the composer, seeing that it was necessary here to depart from the general rules, and not knowing how to express the degree of voice which the actress should gi^e, has written ubove the note G, between parentheses, (un urlo franctse) a French scream. 179 LETTER XV. Salzburg, May 26, 1809. My dear FrienDj In the course of my last journey into Italy., I again visited the cottage at Arqua, and the old chair in which Petrarch sat to write his Trionfi. I never go to Venice^ without visiting the library which has been estab- lished in the church where Cimarosa was in- terredj in 1801. You will, therefore, perhaps, take some interest in the details, of little moment in themselves, which I have collected respect- ing the life of our composer. In giving an account of the employment of one of Haydn's days, after his entrance into the service of prince Esterhazy, we have de- scribed the course of his life for thirty years. He composed with perseverance, but with difficulty, which certainly did not arise from 180 any deficiency of ideas: but th(3 delicacy of his taste was very ditticiilt to satisfy. A sym- phony cost him a month's hibour, a mass more than twice as much. His rough copies are full of different passages. In a single symphony, we find ideas noted suflficient for three or four. In like manner, I have seen at Ferrara the sheet of paper on which Ariosto has written, in sixteen different ways, the beautiful octave of the Tempest ; and it is only at the bottom of the sheet that we find the version which he has pre- ferred. Stcndon le nubi un tenebroso velo, &c. Haydn himself was wont to say, he always enjoyed himself most when he was at work. This will account for the amazing number of works which he has produced. Society, which robs artists who live at Paris of three- fourths of their time, deprived him only of those moments in which it was impossible to pursue. his studies. Gluck, in order to warm his imagination, jmd to transport himself to Aulis, or Sparta. 181 was accustomed to place himself in the middle of a beautiful meadow. In this si- tuation^, with his piano before him, and a bottle of Champagne on each side, he wrote in the open air his two Iphigenias, his Or- pheus, and his other works. Sarti, on the contrary, required a spacious dark room, dimly illumined by the funereal light of a lamp suspended from the ceiling ; and it was only in the most silent hours of the night that he could summon musical ideas. In this way he wrote the Medonte^ the rondo Mia speranza, and the finest air known, I mean to say. La dolce compagna. Cimarosa was fond of noise ; he liked to have his friends about him when he composed. It was while he was amusing himself with them that he projected his Horatii, and his Matri- monio segreto ; that is to say, the finest and most original serious opera, and the first comic opera of the Italian theatre. Fre- quently, in a single night, he wrote the sub^- N 3 182 jects of eight or ten of these charming airs^ which he afterwards finished in the midst of his friends. It was after having- spent a fort- night in doing nothing but walk about the environs of Prague, that the air Pria clie spunti in ciel I'aurora suddenly entered his mind, when he w^as not thinking on the subject. Sacchini could not write a passage unless his mistress was at his side ; and his cats, whose gracefulness he much admired, were playing about him, Paesiello composed in bed. It was be- tween the sheets that he planned the Barber of Seville, the Molinara, and so many other chefs-d'ceuvres of ease and gracefulness. After reading a passage in some holy father, or Latin classic, Zingarelli will dictate, in less than four hours, a whole act of Pyrrhus, or oi Romeo and Juliet, I remember a brother of Anfossi, of great promise, who died young. He could not write a note unless he was surrounded by roast fowls and smoking^ iiausajres. 183 As for Haydn, solitary and sober as New- ton, putting on his finger the ring which the great Frederick had sent him, and which he said was necessary to inspire his imagination, he sat down to his piano, and in a few mo- ments soared among the angelic choirs. No- thing disturbed him at Eisenstadt; he lived wholly for his art, exempt from terrestrial cares. This uniform and pleasing mode of life, filled up with an agreeable occupation, con- tinued without interruption till the death of prince Nicholas, his patron, inl789. A singular effect of this retired life was, that our composer, who never left the small town belonging to his prince, was, for a long time, the only musical man in Europe who was ignorant of the celebrity of Joseph Haydn. The first homage he received was of a singular kind. As if fate had decreed that every thing ridiculous in music should originate at Paris, Haydn received, from a celebrated amateur of that country, a com- mission to compose a piece of vocal music. At the same time, some select passages of N 4l 184 LuUi and Rameau were sent with the letter as models. One may imagine the effect which these papers would produce, in 1780, on Haydn, formed upon the master-pieces of the Italian school, which, for fifty years, had been at the height of its glory. He returned the precious morsels, replying, with a ma- licious simplicity, " that he was Haydn, and not Lulli, or Rameau ; and that if music, after the manner of those great composers, was desired, it should be demanded from them or their pupils ; that, as for himself, he unfortunately could only write music after the manner of Haydn." H© had been talked of for many years, when he was invited, almost at the same time, by the most celebrated directors of the theatres of Naples, Lisbon, Venice, Lon- don, Milan, &c. to compose operas for them. But the love of repose, a very natural at- tachment to his prince, and to his me- thodical habits of life, retained him in Hun- gary, and overbalanced the desire he con- stantly felt of passing the mountains. He would, perhaps, never liave left Eisenstadt, 165 if madamoiselle Boselli had not died. Haydn, after her loss^ began to feel a void in his days. He had recently refused the invi- tation of the directors of the Concert spi- rituel * of Paris. After the death of his fe- male friend^ he accepted the proposals of a London professor, named Salomon, who had undertaken to give concerts in that city. Salomon thought that a man of genius, drawn from his retirement, purposely for the ama- teurs of London, would bring his concerts into fiashion. He gave twenty concerts in the year, and offered Haydn 100 sequins (50Z.) for each concert. Haydn, having ac- cepted these terms, set out for London in * The Concert spirituel is thus described by Rousseau, in his Dictionnaire de musique. "Concert spirituel. A concert which serves as a spectacle at Paris, when the other places of public amuse- ment are shut. It is established in the chateau of the Tuilleries : the performers are very numerous, and the room very handsome. The music consists of motets and symphonies, and the performers occasionally give them- selves the pleasure of disfiguring some Italian airs." T, 6 186 1790, at the age of fifty-nine. He spent more than a year there. The new music which he composed for these concerts was greatly ad- mired. * The simplicity of his manners, added to certain indications of genius, could not fail to succeed with a generous and re- flecting nation. The English would often observe him, as he walked in the street, eye him in silence from head to foot, and go away saying, " That is certainly a great man." * The finest of his instrumental pieces were composed in this country. His mind evidently received a stimulus from the new scenes in which he was placed ; and, during his short stay in London, his genius shone with unusual splendour. His great industry and celerity in writing, were amply shone in the numerous pieces he at that time com- posed, at the head of which we may place the twelve sinfonias, published by Salomon, which are projected upon a more enlarged view of the art than any of his former ones. They are written for an orchestra of not less than twenty distinct instruments, the peculiar faculties of which are skilfully exhibited. These compositions are justly regarded by all the musicians of the present day, as the finest works of imagination which the art possesses, and are esteemed the first models of excellence that have appeared in this new genus of music. G, 6 187 Before Haydn had lost his interest in con- versation, he related with pleasure many anecdotes respecting his residence in Lon- don. A nobleman, passionately fond of music, according to his own account, came to him one morning, and asked him to give him fsome lessons in counterpoint, at a guinea a lesson. Haydn, seeing that he had some knowledge of music, accepted his proposal. " When shall we begin ?" — '' Immediately, if you please," replied the nobleman ;" and he took out of his pocket a quartett of Haydn's. '' For the first lesson," continued he, '' let us examine this quartett, and tell me the reason of certain modulations, and of the general management of the compo- sition, which I cannot altogether approve, since it is contrary to the rules." Haydn, a little surprised, said, that he was ready to answer his questions. The noble- man began, and from the very first bar found something to remark upon every note. Haydn, with whom invention was a habit, and who was the opposite of a pedant, found himself a good deal embarrassed, and re- 188 plied continually : '' I did so, because it has a good effect ; I have placed this passage here, because I think it suitable." The Englishman, in whose opinion these replies were nothing to the purpose, still returned to his proofs, and demonstrated very clearly that his quartett was good for nothing. '' But, my Lord, ar^ range this quartett in your own way ; hear it played, and you will then see which of the two is the best." " How can yours, which is contrary to the rules, be the best ?" " Because it is the most agreeable." — My Lord still returned to the subject ; Haydn replied, as well as he was able, but at last, out of patience, '' I see, my lord," said he, *' that it is you who are so good as to give lessons to me, and I am obliged to confess, that I do not merit the honour of having such a master." The advocate of the rules went away, and cannot to this day under- stand how an author who adheres to them should fail of producing a Matrimonio segreto. A gentleman of the navy came to him one morning : '' Mr. Haydn, I presume .?" — '' Yes, Sir." — " Are you willing to compose me a I 189 taarch for the troops I have on board ? I will ^\ve you thirty guineas ; but I must have it done to-day, because I sail to-morrow for Calcutta." Haydn agreed to do it. As soon as the captain was gone, he opened his piano-forte, and in a quarter of an hour the march was ready. Feeling some scruples at gaining so easily what appeared to him a very considerable sum, he returned home early in the evening, and wrote two other marches, intending first to give the captain his choice of them, and afterwards to make him a present of all three, as a return for his liberality. Early the next morning came the captain. — " Well, where's my march ?" — "^ Here it is." — '' Will you just play it on the piano ?" — Haydn played it. The captain, without say- ing a word, counted the thirty guineas on the piano, took the march, and walked away. Haydn ran after him to stop him : '^ I have written two others, which are better : hear them, and then make your choice." — " I like the first very well, and that is sufficient." — '*^ But hear them." — The captain marched 190 down stairs^ and would hear nothing. Haydn pursued him, crying after him : '' I make you a present of them." — The captain^ quicken- ing his pace^ replied, " I won't have them." — " But, at least hear them." —" The devil should not make me hear them." — Haydn, piqued, immediately hastened to the Exchange, enquired what ship was on the point of sailing for the Indies, and the name of the commander. He then rolled up the two marches, inclosed a polite note, and sent the parcel on board to the captain. The obstinate fellow, suspecting that the mu- sician was in pursuit of him, would not even open the note, and sent back the whole. Haydn tore the marches into a thousand pieces, and never forgot the captain so long as he lived. He used to relate, with much pleasure, a dispute which he had with a music-seller in London. Amusing himself one morning, after the English fashion, in shopping, he enquired of a music-seller if he had any select and beautiful music } " Certainly," replied the shopman, ^' I have just printed some su- 191 blime music of Haydn's." — '' Oh/' returned Haydn^ '' I'll have nothing to do with that." — '' How, Sir, you will have nothing to do with Haydn's music ! and pray what fault have you to find with it ?" — '' Oh, plenty ; but it is useless talking about it, since it does not suit me : show me some other." The music-seller, who was a warm Haydnist, re- plied, " No, Sir, I have music, it is true, but not for such as you ;" and turned his back upon him. As Haydn was going away, smiling, a gentleman of his acquaintance en- tered, and accosted him by name. The music-seller, still out of humour, turned round at the name, and said to the person who had just entered the shop : '' Haydn ! — aye, here's a fellow who says he does not like that great man's music." The Englishman laughed ; an explanation took place, and the music- seller was made acquainted with the man who found fault with Haydn's music. During his residence in London, our au- thor enjoyed tvvo great gratifications. One was, in hearing Handel's music ; the other, in going to the ancient concert. This last is 192 & society established for the purpose of pre- serving music, which, in the fashionable world, is called ancient. They give concerts, at which are performed the master-pieces of Pergolese, Leo, Durante, Marcel lo, Scar- latti, — in a word, of that constellation of dis- tinguished men, who appeared, almost at the same time^ about the year 1730.* * It is certainly unwise to neglect the productions of genius, to whatever period they may belong. Yet, as music, like every other branch of art, and knowledge, is progressive, it cannot surely be expedient, constantly to refer to the works of our forefathers, as the only models of excellence. The Philharmonic Society is established exclusively for the study of modern instrumental music, and whoever has had an opportunity of listening to its orchestra, composed of the first masters in the country, can hardly fail to recognise the superiority of later times in this de- partment. To do perfect justice to the works of the great modern composers, it is rsquisite that they should be executed by men, similar in musical taste, and genius, to themselves. So different do they appear in the hands of this distin- guished society, from the style in which they are usually exhibited, that the effect resembles the pure effulgence produced in the recent experiments of Sir Humphrey Davy, when compared with the * dusky beam' of ordinary brightness. G, 193 Haydn remarked to me, with surprise, that many of these compositions, which had trans- ported him to the skies, when he studied them in his youth, appeared much less beau- tiful to him forty years afterwards. " It had the same melancholy effect upon me," said he, " as the sight of an ancient mistress.'' Was this merely the usual effect of advanced age, or did these sublime pieces give our composer less pleasure from having lost the charm of novelty } Haydn undertook a second journey to Lon- don, in 1794. Gallini, the manager of the King's theatre, in the Haymarket, had en- gaged him to compose an opera, which he intended to get up with the greatest magnifi- cence. The subject was the descent of Or- pheus to hell. Haydn began to work, but Gallini found difficulty in obtaining permis- sion to open his theatre. The composer, who was hankering after home, had not pa- tience to wait till permission could be ob- tained. He left London, w^h eleven parts of his Orpheus, which, as I am informed, are his best productions in theatrical music. 194 and returned to Austria, never more to leave it.* He often saw, in London, the celebrated Mrs. Billino^ton, whom he enthusiastically ad- mired. He found her one day, sitting to Reynolds, the only English painter who has succeeded in portraits. He had just taken that of Mrs. Billington, in the character of St. Cecilia, listening to the celestial music^ as she is usually drawn. Mrs. Billington shewed the picture to Haydn. " It is like/' said he, " but there is a strange mistake." — " What is that," asked Reynolds, hastily ? — '' You have painted her listening to the angels ; you ought to have represented the angels listening to her." Mrs. Billington sprung up, and threw her arms round his * The songs of Eurydice in this unfinished opera, full of tenderness and beauty, are powerfully contrasted with the nervous and formidable sti-ains of the Furies, and the piece, in general, exhibits marks of genius sufficient to convince us that Haydn would have distinguished himself in the drama, equally with symphony, had he been led to employ himself upon that department. G. 195 neck. It was for her that he composed his Ariadne ahhandonata, which rivals that of Benda. One of the English princes commissioned Reynolds to take Haydn's portrait. Flattered by the hononr, he went to the painter's house, and sat to him, but soon grew tired. Rey- nolds, careful of his reputation, would not paint a man of acknowledged genius, with a stupid countenance, and deferred the sitting to another day. The same weariness and want of expression occurring at the next attempt^ Reynolds went to the prince, and informed him of the circumstance. The prince contrived a stratagem ; he sent to the painter's house a pretty German girl, in the service of the queen his mother. Haydn took his seat for the third time, and as soon as the conversation began to flag, a curtain fell, and the fair German, elegantly attired in white, and crowned with roses, addressed him in his native tongue : '' O, great man^ how happy am I to have an opportunity of seeing thee, and of being in thy presence !'* Haydn, delighted, overwhelms the lovely Q 2 196 enchantress with questions ; his countenance recovered its animation^ and Reynolds seized it with rapidity. George III., who liked no music but Han- del's^ was not insensible to that of Haydn. He and the queen gave a flattering reception to the German professor ; and the University of Oxford sent him a, doctor's 'diploma, a dignity which had been conferred on only four persons since the year 1400, and wliich Handel himself had not obtained. Custom requiring that Haydn should send to the university a specimen of musical learn- ing, he addressed to it a sheet of music so composed, that, whether it was read back- wards or forwards, beginning at the top, the bottom, or the middle of the page, in short, in every possible way, it ahvays presented an air, and a correct accompaniment.* He left London, delighted with Handel's music, and carrying with him a few hundred guineas, which seemed to him a treasure. On his return through Germany, he gave * We have given this musical curiosity at the conclusion. G. 197 a few concerts ; aiid^ for the first time, his little fortune received an augmentation. His appointments in the Esterhazy family, were of small amount ; but the condescension with which he was treated by the members of that august house, was of more value to a man whose works are the productions of his feel- ings, than any pecuniary advantages. He had always a cover at the prince's table ; and when his highness gave a uniform to his or- chestra, Haydn received the dress, usually worn by persons coming to Eisenstadt to pay their court to the prince. It is by a course of attentions such as these, that the great families of Austria gain the affections of all by whom they are surrounded ; it is by this moderation that they render tolerable, and even agreeable, privileges and manners which put them almost on an equality with crowned heads. German pride is ridiculous only in the printed accounts of their public ceremonies ; the air of kindness which ac- companies the reality, gives a pleasing colour to every thing. Haydn took with him, from London, 15,000 o3 198 florins. * Some years afterwards, the sale of the score of the Creation, and the Four Seasons, brougrht hiin iin additional sum of 2,000 sequins.f with which he purchased the small house and garden in the fauxbourg Gumpendorf}^ on the road to Schonbrunn, where he resides. Such is the state of his fortune. I was with him at his new house, when he received a flattering- letter from the French Institute, to inform him that he had been nominated foreig-n associate. Haydn suddenly melted into tears when he read it, and never referred without emotion to this letter, which is, in reality, distin- guished by that dignified and graceful turn of expression, in which the French suc- ceed with a felicity superior to every other nation. ^: " About 1,400/. -\ About 1,000/. J The late R. B. Sheridan was put in nomination at the same time to fill this honorary station, but the choice qf the Institute fell on the Father of Ilarmonv. G. 199 LETTER XVI. Salzburg, May 28, 1809, Come, my friend, — the same Haydn who, in instrumental music, was sublime, in the opera, only respeetable, now invites you to follow him to the sanctuary, where. La gloria di colui che tutto muove, inspired him, at times, with hymns worthy of their divine object. Nothing has been more justly admired, and at the same time more warmly censured, than his masses ; but in order to form a correct estimate of their beauties, their faults, and the causes which occasioned them, the most expeditious method will be to see what was the state of sacred music about the year 1760. Every one knows that music formed a part of the sacred worship, both of the Jews and the Gentiles, and it is to this circumstance o 4 that we owe those irregular, but lofty and beautiful, melodies wliich the Grei^orian and Ambrosian chants have preserved to us. The learned assert, with sufficient proba- bility, that these airs, the vestiges of which still remain, are the same as were employed in Greece, in the worship of Jupiter and Apollo.* * Music has probably shared the fate of the other arts, and the arrangement of it on scientific principles, or what is called Harmony, may be said, with more propriety, to have been revived, than invented, by the moderns. Dr. Biuney has, indeed, cited twenty authorities to prove that the Greeks were acquainted with melody only, and that they were ignorant of all admixtures of sound, except the unison, and the octave. But it might as well be argued, because no specimens of their painting have reached us, that they were ignorant of all admixture of colours. Indeed, the distinction that has been made between Harmony and Melody seems to us altogether un- founded . Harmony is a thing inherent in nature. Every sound given out by a sonorous body, is as much composed of three ingredients, as every ray of light is of the three prismatic colours. If we listen to St. PauFs bell, we shall XL hear it distinctly utter the following tones, r)ft~ZZ'°::zZ i 201 Guido Aretino is considered as having dis- covered the first ideas of counterpoint^, in 1023 ; and it was soon afterwards introduced which are a combination of the fifth, and tenth, with the key note. The unison of these three tones forms what is termed concord, and every sound in nature is similarly compounded. It is from observing these eftects, that the musical scale has been formed ; which may be called the prism of the art, by means of which, all combinations of sound may be separated into their constituent parts. By the musical scale, is here meant those interval*, or distances, according to which sounds are arranged, as marked by the twelve semi-tones. Each of these is capable of further dirision, almost to infinity. It is possible to time 100 strings, or more, in regular ascent of pitch between C, and C sharp, so as to be clearly distinguished by the ear. When all these gradations of sound are mingled together, we hear only a confused noise. When they are made to follow each other at harmonic distances, melody is produced. Melody, then, may be defined to be a succession of sounds at harmonic distances. It is only one of the accidents, or forms, of harmony, and its excellence and beauty will always depend on the order of chords through which it is made to pass, or, in othejr words, on the correctness of the harmony by which it is generated. Upon this theory, it seems impossible to refuse to the 202 into sacred music ; but till the time of Palestrina, that is to say^ till about the year 1570, this music was nothing but a tissue of harmonious soundsj almost destitute of perceptible me- lody. In the fifteenth, and the earlier part of the following century, the professors, in order to render their masses more agreeable, composed them upon the air of some popular song'. It is thus that more than a hundred masses were composed upon the air of the well-known ballad of " The armed Man." The studied singularity of the middle age, led other masters to write their sacred music according to the cast of dice : each number thus obtained, had musical passages, which Greeks all knowledge of the scientific part of music. The Athenian ear, so delicate with respect to the measure of their poetry, and the accent of their language, could surely receive little gratification from the rude, and bar- barous strains which are found among nations of savages. Nor is it possible to suppose that such music could have inspired the imagination of their poets with the wonders they have ascribed to it, or have been thought worthy of the peculiar protection of one of their favorite deities. G, §03 correspondedr to it. At length, Palestrina* appeared. This immortal genius, to whom we owe the modem melody, shook off the fetters of barbaristn ; he introduced into his compositions an air, grave indeed, but con- tinued and perceptible, and his music is still performed in St. Peter's, at Rome, About the middle of the sixteenth century, the composers had taken such a fancy to fugues and canons, and collected these figures in such a singular manner, in their works for the church, that during the greater part of that period this pious music was extremely ridicu- lous. This abuse, after a lengthof time, excited the complaints of the devout; and it was often proposed to banish music from the churches. In short, Marceilus II., who occupied the papal chair, in 1555, was on the point of issuing the decree of suppression, when Pa- lestrina entreated his holiness to hear a mass which he had composed. The pope having * Talestrina was born in 1529, nine years after the lieath of Raphael, and died in 1594. 204 Consented, the youii^ musician caused to be performed before him a mass for six voices^ which appeared so beautiful^ and so full of dignity, that the pontitf, instead of putting* his project in execution, ordered Palestriria to compose some works of the same kind for his chapel. The mass in question is still extant, and is known by the name of pope Marcello's mass. We should distinguish between those mu- sicians, who are great by their natural genius, and those who have produced great works. Palestrina and Scarlatti occasioned the art to make astonishing progress. They had, per- haps, as much genius as Cimarosa, though his compositions are so much more pleasing than theirs. What would not Mantegna, whose works excite laughter in three-fourths of the spectators at the Museum, have pro- duced, if, instead of contributing to the edu- cation of Correggio, he had been born at Parma, ten years after that distinguished man. What, above all, would not the great Lionardo da Vinci, that favourite of nature, created for the perception of beauty, have 2 20b aecomplishedj had he been permitted to be- hold the pictures of Guido. An artist in paintings or rnusiCj at the pre- sent day easily surpasses Giotto or Palestrina ; but what point would these real artists have reached, had they possessed the same advan- tages with our contemporary workman ? The Coriolanus of La Harpe, if published in the time of Malherbe, would have obtained for its author a renown almost equal to that of Racine. A man born with any degree of talent, is naturally carried by the age in which he lives, to the point of perfection, which that age lias reached. The education which he has himself received, the degree of information possessed by the spectators who applaud him;— every thing conducts him thus far; but if he goes farther, he be- comes superior to his age, and evinces the character of genius. He then labours for posterity, but at the same time his works are not so likely to please the taste of his con- temporaries.* * Beethoven is a striking illustration of this remark. His genius seems to anticipate a future age. lu oue compre- 206 We have seen, that towards the end of the sixteenth century^, the church music nearly resembled that of the theatre. Soon after- bensive view, he surveys all that science has hitherto pro- duced ; but regards it only as the basis of that super- structure which harmony is capable of raising. He mea- sures the talents and resources of every preceding artist, and, as it were, collects into a focus their scattered rays. He discovers that Haydn and Mozart alone have followed nature, yet he explores the hidden treasuies of harmony with a vigour superior to either. In sacred music, he is pre-eminently great. The dark tone of his mind, is in unison with that solemn style which the services of the church require ; and the gigantic harmony which he wields, enables him to excite by sounds, a terror hitherto unknown. In the Mount of Olives, this sublimity is fully dis- played. The movement which describes the march of the Roman boid'ers, when they go o\it in search of Jesus, is remarkable for novelty and effect, " He came towards this mountain. He'll not escape our search." It partakes of the solemnity of a march, yet possesses a character of activity and enterprise. The mutations of the harmony, are constantly turning the coarse of the melody into every direction. No place or corner seems unexplored. The last chorus may be quoted as a specimen of the true sublime. The sinfonia which introduces it, when performed in a spacious church, is a continued clash of 207 wards an instrumental accompaniment was given to the sacred airs. At lengthy about 1740, and not till then. Durante * conceived the idea of marking the sense of the words, and sought for agreeable melodies, which might give additional effect to the sentiments they expressed. The revo- lution produced by this very natural idea Hv^as general, on the other side of the Alps; but the German musicians, faithful to ancient customs, still retained in sacred song some- thing of the rudeness and tiresomeness of the middle ages. In Italy, on the contrary, sen- timent prevailing over propriety, the music of the church and the theatre soon became the same. A Gloria in excelsis, was nothing but sounds, so tremendous, as to awaken the sentiment of dan- ger in the highest degree. During the solemn enunciation of the words " Hallelujah to the Father, and the Son of God," a succession of vivid and appalhng shocks of sound proceeds from the accompaniment, the effect of which is truly electrical. G. * Durante, a pupil of Scarlatti, was born at Naples, in 1693, and died in 1755, the same year with Mon- tesquieu. 6 208 a lively aii% in which a happy lover might very well express his felicity ;, and a Miserere, a plaintive strain full of tender languor. AjrSj duets, recitatives, and even sportive rondos, were introduced into the prayers. Be- nedict XIV. hoped to remove the scandal by proscribing wind instruments ; he retained only the organ ; the unsuitableness, however, was not in the instruments, but in th» music. Haydn, who was early sensible of the dryness of the ancient sacred music, of the profanity of the ornaments which the modern Italians have introduced into the sanctuary, and the in- expressive and monotonous character of the German music, saw that by following his own ideas of propriety, he should create a man- ner entirely new. He therefore adopted little or nothing from the music of the theatre : he preserved, by the solidity of the harmony, a part of the dark and lofty style of the ancient school ; he supported, with all the richness of his orchestra, airs, solemn, tender, and dignified, yet full of brilliancy ; and, from time to time, adorned with flowers and graces 209 this sublime mode of celebrating the divine perfections^ and acknowledging his benefits. The only person who preceded him in this genus was San Martini, the Milan composer, of whom I have already spoken. On hearing a mass of Haydn's performed in one of the immense gothic cathedrals, so frequent in Germany, where a solemn twi- light scarcely penetrates through the coloured windows, you feel, at first, agitated, and afterwards elevated, by that mingled charac- ter of seriousness, antiquity, imagination, and piety, which distinguishes them. In 1799, I was confined at Vienna by a fever. The bells announced a mass at a church not far from my room : my ennui got the better of my prudence, and I rose and went to console myself with a little music. I inquired as I entered, and found it was the festival of St. Ann, and that they were going to perform a mass of Haydn's in B** major, which I had never heard. Scarcely had it begun before I felt myself afl^ected. I broke out into a perspiration, my head-ache went away : I left the church with a cheer- 210 fulness to which I had been long a stranger, and the fever never returned. I am of opinion that many of the com- plaints of our nervous ladies might be cured by my remedy, but not by that ineffectual music which they go to hear at a concert, after having put on a charming bonnet. Wo- men, never in tlieir lives, nor do we our- selves, while youug, give a full attention to music, except when we hear it in th© dark. When at liberty from the business of appearing charming— when we have no longer our part to act, we can give ourselves up to Uie music ; but in France we take precisely the contrary dispositions with us to the con- cert. I used to think myself obliged to be more brilliant than usual on such occasions. But if, during a morning walk to Monceaux, while seated in a verdant grove, secluded from every eye, with a book in your hand, your attention should be suddenly arrested by the sound of voices and instruments from a neighbouring habitation, and you should hear distinctly a beautiful air, in vain will you attempt again and again to resume your 211 reading. You will, at length, be entirely carried away ; you will fall into a reverie : and when, after an hour or two, you return to your carriage, you will feel yourself re* lieved from that secret heaviness which often rendered you unhappy without your being able clearly to explain the nature of your uneasiness. You will be softened into tears: you will begin to regret, and this is a feeling never experienced by the really mi- serable ; to them, happiness seems no longer possible. The man who feels regret, recol- lects a happiness he once enjoyed, and he will gradually bring himself to hope that he may again attain to it. Good music never mistakes its aim, but goes at once to the heart in search of the chagrin which consumes us. In all cases of cures effected by music, I am of opinion, to speak like a grave phy- sician, that it is the brain which re-acts powerfully on the rest of the organization. The music must begin by bewildering us, and by making us regard as possible things which we did not dare to hope. One of thd most singular instances of this transient in* p2 212 sanity, of this forgetfulness of ourselves^ our vanity, and the part we are acting, is that of Senesi7io, who was to perform, on a London theatre, the character of a tyrant, in I know not what opera : the celebrated Fari- nelli sustained that of an oppressed prince; Farinelli, who had been giving concerts in the country, arrived only a few hours before the representation, and the unfortunate hero, and the cruel tyrant, saw one another for the first time, on the stage. When Farinelli came to his first air, in which he supplicates for mercy, he sung it with such sweetness and expression, that the poor tyrant, totally for- getting himself, threw himself upon his neck, and repeatedly embraced him. One more story. In my early youth, 1 went with some other young people, equally devoid of care, one day, during the extreme heats of summer, to seek for coolness and fresh air on one of the lofty mountains which surround the Lago Maggiore in Lombardy. Having reached by day-break the middle of the ascent, we stopped to contemplate the Borromean isles, which were displayed under 213 our feet, in the middle of the lake, when w6 were surrounded by a large flock of sheiepy which were leaving the fold to go to~ their pasture. One of our party, who was rio'bad performer on the flute, and who always car- ried his instrument along with him, took it out of his pocket. " I am going," said he, '^ to turn Corydon, let us see whether Virgil's sheep will recognize their pastor." He began to play. The sheep and goats, which were following one another towards the mountain, with their heads hanging down, raised them at the first sound of the flute ; and all, with a general and hasty movement, turned to the side from whence the agreeable noise pro- ceeded. Gradually they flocked round the musician, and listened with motionless atten- tion. He ceased playing : still the sheep did not stir. The shepherd, with his staff*, obliged those nearest to him to move on. They obeyed ; but no sooner did the fluter beo-in again to play, than his innocent auditors again returned to him. The shepherd, out of patience, pelted them with clods of earth, but not one would move. The fluter played p3 214 with additional skill ; the shepherd fell into a passion, whistled, swore, and pelted the poor fleecy amateurs with stones. Such as were hit by them began to march, but the others still refused to stir. At last, the shep- herd was obliged to entreat our Oiphcus to stop his magic sounds ; the sheep then moved off, but continued to stop at a dis- tance as often as our friend resumed the agreeable instrument. The tune he played was nothing more than the favourite air of. the opera at that time performing at Milan. As music was our continual employment, we were delighted with our adventure ; we reasoned upon it the whole day, and con- cluded that physical pleasure is the basis of all music. Well, but, say you, what is become of Haydn's masses ? Right ; but what does it signify ? I write for amusement, and we have long agreed to lay aside restraint on both sides. The masses of Haydn, then, are inspired by a sweet sensibility. The ideal part is brilliaat, andj in ^feneral, dignified ; the style SI5 is noble^ full of fire^ and finely developed ; the Amens and Hallelujahs breathe all the reality of joy, and are of a spirit unequalled. Occasionally^ when the character of a passage would otherwise be of too gay, and profane a cast, Haydn sobers it by profound and re- tarding chords, which moderate this worldly joy. His Agnus Dei are full of tenderness. Turn more particularly to that in the mass. No. 4 ; it is celestial music. His fugues are of the first order, and breathe all the fire, dignity, and exaltation of an enraptured mind.* * As these compositions are little known in this country, a more accurate description of them may not, perhaps, be unacceptable to the reader. Of the six masses for a full orchestra, it would be difficult to select any one as superior to the rest. They are constructed upon the most magnificent scale; and require the space of a cathedral fully to develope the lofty sentiments which they contain. The chorosses must, also, be broken by the service, to take off that weight upon the ear, which would be occa- sioned by an uninterrupted performance of them. The first mass in B, i» of a mild and placid cast : every movement is solemn and beautiful. The " Gloria in eX' telm DeOy" is wrought with more fire than any of the p 4 2i6 He sometimes adopts the artifice which dis- [ii;uishes the works of Paesiello. , j He selects from the beginninf^ an agree- others, and is an exception to the general character of the piece. The Hosanna is peculiar for its graceful sim- plicity. Mass, No. 2, is in C major, and is more giand and ani- mated. No. 3, in D minor, is conceived with great sublimity ; the trumpets, which are heard in the intervals, give it a majestic air. The Gloria is introduced by the major- key in great splendour ; and the soft flowing stream of melody which proceeds from the violins, prepares us for the words, " et in terra pax." In the Credo, a close canon of two choirs, accompanied by the orchestra, the author has employed the ancient style, which in his hands be- comes doubly interesting; the beauties of the old school are displayed, without its deformities. No. 4, in B, contains some beautiful quartettos, and fine fugues. No. 5, in C, is of a grand cast, and is the only one iji which a song is introduced. No. (J, in B, opens in a most impressive sl^le, inter- spersed with solos, which agreeably relieve the ear. The " In gloria Dei Patris," the " Et Incarnatus," and the *• Benedictus," are all excellent; and the last chorus, " Dona nobis pactm," is a combination of beauty and sublimity, that will rarely be surpassed. G. 317 able passage^ which he repeats in the course of the piece ; frequently it is only a simple cadence. It is scarcely credible what an effect this simple method of repeating the same passage has, in giving an unity^ a reli- gious and affecting colour to the whole. This style, you are aware, borders on monotony ; but a good master knows how to avoid it ; instance in the Molinara, and the Deux Journees of Cherubini. You will observe in the overture to that fine composition, a cadence, which your ear will notice, because there is something entangled and singular in it. It appears again in the trio of the first act, afterwards in an air, and lastly in the finale ; and every time it returns^ our pleasure in hearing it is increased. The predominating passage is rendered so sensible in the Frasca- tana of Paesiello, that it forms of itself the whole finale. In Haydn's masses this passage is at first scarcely observed, on account of its gracefulness, but at every return, it acquires additional force and beauty. Let us now hear the advocates on the oppo- site side, and I assure you that it is not energy 2 218 that Haydn's opponents want. They accuse him, hrstj of having destroyed the species of sacred music established and adopted by all the professors. This species, however, no longer existed in Italy, and, in Germany, they had returned to the monotonous and inexpres- sive noise of the middle ages. If monotony be seriousness, certainly nothing could be more so. Either write no music for the church, or let it be good. Did any one ever find fault with Raphael for introducing celestial figures in his sacred pieces } Is not the charming St. Michael ofGuido, which distracts the atten- tion of the devout, still displayed in St. Peter's at Rome ? Why should nmsic, then, be for^ bidden to please ? If you require theological reasons, we have David's example on our side. '' If the psalm be mournful," says St. Augustine, " mourn with it ; if it celebrate the praises of God, do you also sing the wonders of the Creator." A Hallelujah then ought not to be sung to the air of a Miserere. Here the German masters recede a step ; they will allow a little «19 variety in the air, but require the accompani- ment to be always noisy, austere, and clumsy. Are they in the wrong ? I know that a cele- brated Hanoverian physician, worthy to be a native of the country of the Frederics, the Catherines, the Mengs, and the Mozarts, once said to me with a smile, ^' A German of the common class requires a stronger physical effort, more bustle, and more noise to move him than any other creature upon earth. We drink too much beer ; you must fairly flay us if you wish to tickle us." If the object of music in the church, as elsewhere, be to give a greater effect to the sentiments expressed by the words, Haydn has attained the perfection of his art. I defy any Christian, who has heard on Easter-day a Gloria of this composer, to leave the church without feeling his heart expand with sacred joy ; an effect which Father Martini and the (Grerman harmonists, apparently, did not wish to produce ; and it must be confessed that in this respect, at least, they have not failed. If these gentlemen be wrong in the prin^ 6 220 cipal accusation they have broug^ht against Haydn, they are right in some inferior points ; but Correggio likewise, in his attention to gracefulness, has occasionally fallen into the affectation of it. Look at the divine Madonna alia scodella of the Museum : when you are out of humour, you will think the action of the angel, who is tying the ass of Joseph, affected ; at another time this angel will appear to you charming. Haydn's faults are some- times more positive : in a Dona nobis pacem of one of his masses, we find, as a principal passage, a pleasantry in tempo presto. In one of his Benedictus, after many pranks of the orchestra, a thought frequently re- turns in teinpo allegro^ which may be found in an aria huffa of Anfossi. It there produces a good effect, because it is in its proper place. He has written some fugues in sextuple time, which, as soon as the movement be- comes quick, are absolutely comic. When the repentant sinner bemoans his faults at the foot of the altar, Haydn often paints the sedu- cing charms of the sin, instead of the penitence of the sinner. He sometimes employs J or f 221 time;, which remind the auditor of the waltz^ and the country-dance. This is offending against the physical prin- ciples of music. Cabanis * will tell you that joy accelerates the circulation of the bloody and requires tempo presto : that melancholy abates, retards the course of the humours, and inclines us to tempo largo : that happiness requires the major key, and melancholy the minor: on this last truth are founded the styles of Mozart and Cimarosa.f * A French medical writer of eminence, still living. T. t The physical principles of music, or the natural causes of its power over our feelings, have not yet been satisfactorily explained. The influence of the popular airs of different countries upon their inhabitants, has been sufficiently accounted for by the doctrine of association. But the general question is too extensive to admit of a solution from this prniciple alone, and must be investigated with reference to the original constitution of nature. Joy, as our author remarks, always expresses itself in the major key: sadness in the minor; and this effect of the animal spirits on the tones of the voice, is observable also in the brute creation. The cuckoo, at the commence- ment of spring, sings in the major third, but falls into the 222 Haydn apolog-ized for these errors, which his judgment could not fail to recognise, by saying, that whenever he thought on God, he minor when hei" vigour is exhausted by the business &( incubation. If we suppose the state of society to have been progres- sive, that " The savage of the human kind " By time was softened into man," we may refer to a period, when language was probably little more than the simple utterance of the tones in which the passions universally express themselves. It is this language of nature which is understood by the new-born infant: and a little observation :• 'V ? tisfy us, that it is still, the most effectual medium of communicating our feelings. How much more powerfully are we affected by the impassioned eloquence of the orator, than by the silent address of the writer. How unintelligible voiild btf the most familiar expressions of common conversation, if pronounced in a tone foreign to the sentiment. There is, then, independently of words, a language of the passions, consistiug of the tones, in which they are universally and instinctively uttered, and which may be regarded as the primitive and natural language of man. It is in its reference to these original sounds, which Wt shall call the instinctive tones of nature, that the empire of music over the feelings is founded. If We attend to 2^3 could only conceive of him as a being infinitely greats and infinitely good. He added^ that this last quality of the divine nature inspired them, we shall find that they tnay all be referred to the gradations of the musical scale. It has been observed, that in the tones of woe, we in- variably recognize the minor 3d, and in those of joy, or exultation, the harmony of the major. If four minor 3ds be combined, they form the chord of the extreme flat 7th, which excites in us fear and alarm : because it is a clutter of sounds, indicating rage and ferocity. These tones escape us in the ebullitions of our worst passions, and are heard in the savage murmurs of wild beasts. When the minor 3d forms the 7th of the relative key, by being compounded with brighter sounds, it loses much of the melancholy which before characterized it, and becomes highly sympathetic. We never fail to utter this tone in moments of the greatest interest, and it may be regarded as the most affecting chord in music. It is the business, tiien, of the composer, to supply the modulation by which the passions may be awakened ; but much of the effect produced on the auditor, will depend upon the mode in which this modulation is given. It should, therefore, be the object of the instrumental, as well as the vocal performer, to copy the manner in which the instinctive tones are uttered ; and the power of either to move us, will be in proportion to his just conception of the sentiment of his author, and his skill 224 him with such confidence and joy^ that he could have written even a Miserere in tempo allegro. For my own part, I think these masses rather too much in the German style. I mean, that they are, often, too much loaded with accompaniments, vvhich injure, in some de- gree, the effect of the air. They are fourteen in number. Some of them composed during- that unfortunate period for the house of Austria, the seven years war, breathe a truly martial ardour ; they resem- ble, in this respect, the sublime odes which the celebrated tragic poet, Collin,* poured forth extempore, on the approach of the French army, in 1809. in giving to that sentimont the tone which nature lias as- signed to it. The superiority of modern music arises, in a great de- gree, from the increased attention which has been paid to the philosophy of the art ; and we are confident that effects, still more novel and interesting, will be produced, in proportion as its principles are more closely studied, and more correctly known. G. * For an account of this poet, see niadame de Stael's • Germany/ part ii. chap. 25. T, 225 LETTER XVli. Salzburg, May 30, 1809, My dear Louis, It remained for me to speak of our au- thor's greatest work. The Creation. It is the epic poem of music. You must know that I have communicated the contents of my letters to a lady of Vienna, who has taken refuse in these mountains, like many others of the first families of that unfortunate city. The secre- tary of this lady transcribes my letters, and thus spares me what I consider the most dis- agreeable of all tiresome things — the going twice over the same ideas. I told her I should be obliged to skim over the Creatiortj which I have not heard more than once or twice. '' Well," said she, '' I will undertake this letter to your Paris friend." As I made a few polite objections : '' Do you think me then incapable," said she, '' of writing to aa 226 agreeable Parisian, who is fond of i/ou, and of invisic ? — No, indeed. Sir ; the utmost 1 shall allow you to do, will be to correct some of the verbal errors of my letter ; but be careful not to meddle too much \\ith my ideas : that is all I ask of you." This preamble is, as you see, a piece of treachery towards her. Do not fail, then, to reply to the letter on the Creation, and above all things, criticise it without mercy. Say that my style is effeminate, that I am lost in minutiae, that 1 see effects which have never existed, but in my own fancy : and take ])arti- cular care to reply promptly, in order to pre- vent any idea of collusion between us. Your criticisms will procure us here some charming sallies of vivacity. 997 LETTER XVIII, Salzburg, May 31, 1809. We are always complaining-, my friend, that we have come into the world too late, that we have to admire only what is past, and are contemporary with nothing great in the arts. But, great men are like the summits of the Alps ; when you are in the valley of Chamouny, Mont Blanc itself, amidst neighbouring summits covered like it with snow, seems no more than any other lofty mountain ; but when, on your return to Lausanne, you see it towering above every thing that surrounds it ; when, at a still greater distance, in the plains of France^ after every other mountain has disappeared, you still behold in the horison this enormous white mass, you recognise the Colossus of the ancient world. How have you learned in France, vulgar souls as you are, to ap- preciate the genius of Moliere ? — by expe- 1, and there heard, for the first time, the eftcct of an orchestra of more than a tliousand per- formers — viz. Violins 250 Oboes 40 Vocal. Violas 50 Bassoons 40 Trebles lUO Violoncellos 60 Horns 12 Altos 92 Double Basses 27 Trumpets 14 Tenors 152 Trombones 12 Basses 159 Drums 8. Oryan 1. Total 1077. This vast assemblage attracted persons from the most distant j)arts of Europe, who returned gratified by the extraordinary effects which they had heard. The union of so many voices and instruments, in one band, forms an epoch in the history of the art. The writer noticed two circumstances \\orthy of remark. 1. The great softness with which th« songs were executed. Although 377 stringed instruments accompanied the single voice, such was the lightness of the effect, that they did not overpower, or incommode it. From the great extent of the surface from which the sounds emanated, they were diffused through the atmosphere, so as completely to fill it. No single instrument was heard, but all were blended together in the softest showers of harmony. 231 shorty he approached^ as far as is permitted to human genius, the unattainable object of his songs. Handel is simple ; his accom- paniments are written in three parts only ; but to use a Neapolitan phrase of Gkick's,, 2. The loiid parts, which it was thought would have been too violent for the ear to sustain, fell far short of that hieadih of tone in the bass, which was desired. The foundation M'as too slight for so vast a superstructure; there was not a sufficient mass of sound in the lower part,— nor did it sink deep enough. The instruments at present known, are inadequate to pour upon the orchestra that volume of sound, which the" pieces of the great Gorman composers demand. It is in the lower regions of the scale, that we are most deficient in power. One or two octaves have been added to its height, during the last century, but no one has yet dared the ' unfathomable depths' of harmony. The magnitude of sound desired, might perhaps be obtained by causing large bodies to revolve in the air by means of machinery. The note produced would depend on their form, and the degree of rapidity with Mhich they were whirled. Immense tubes upon the principle of the ^rom- hone might also be worked by the same means, so as to descend two octaves below that instrument. It is only by means of engines of this kind, that the grand orchestra can be brought to perfection, or the full effect of many awful combinations of the modern art displayed. G. Q 4 2S2 there is not a note that does not dram blood. Handel was very sparing in his use of wind-instruments, the harmony of which has a sweetness even superior to that of the human voice. Cimarosa has employed flutes only in the first passages of the Matrimonio segreto ; Mozart^ on the other hand, makes a constant use of them. The Oratorio was originally invented in 1530, by St. Philip Neri, for the purpose of awakening a somewhat profane zeal in Rome, by gratifying the senses with the interest and voluptuousness of the drama, ^ Before the time of Haydn, it was thought to have obtained perfection in the hands of Marcello, Hasse, and Handel, who have writ- ten so many, and such sublime ones. Zinga- relli's Destruction of Jerusalem, which is per- forming at Paris, and which pleases you, not- withstanding its unmerited mutilations, is no longer a proper oratorio. A pure work in this department ought, like those of the masters I have just mentioned, to present a mixture of the grave and fugued style of church music, >Yith the clearness and expression of that of ^3 the theatre. The oratorios of Handel and Marcello have fugues in ahnost every scene ; and Weigl has done the same in his great oratorio of the Passion. The Italians of the present day, on the contrary, have brought the oratorio vevy near to the opera. Haydn intended to follow the former, but his ardent genius could feel no enthusiasm except when employed upon its own productions. One of Haydn's friends was the Baron Von Bwieten, the emperor's librarian, a very learned man, even in music, and a tolerable composer. The baron was of opinion that music, which succeeds so well in expressing the passions, might also describe the objects of nature, by awakening in the mind of the auditor the emotions which these objects occasion. Men admire the sun ; by exciting, therefore, the highest degree of admiration, we shall recal the idea of the sun. This mode of reasoning may appear rather superficial, but M. Von Swieten firmly believed in it. He pointed out to his friend, that though some scattered pas- sages of the descriptive genus were to be met with in the works of the great masters, yet the 234 harvest of this field remained on the ^vliole untouched. He proposed to him to be the Delille * of music, and the invitation was ac- cepted. IJandel might liave found in the works of Milton the subject of the oratorio of the Crea- tion ; but, I know not why, that great com- poser did not avail himself of it. Li^dlcy extracted a second oratorio from the text of Milton ; and when Haydn finally quitted Lon- don, Salomon the professor gave him Lydley's words. Haydn brought them with him to Vienna, without much intention of making use of them ; but M. Von Swieten, to encourage him, not only translated the English text into German, but added choruses, airs, and duets, in order that his friend's talent might have more frequent opportunities of dispUiying it- self, f * Delille, though far inferior to our Thompson, of whom he is often an iinsuccessfnl imitator, is considered as occupying his place in the literature of France. T. t The original contains so gross an anachronism, that I cannot suppose the passages to be correct, and have, S35 Haydn was sixty-three years old when he undertook this oreat work ; and was em- ployed two whole years upon it. When urged to bring it to a conclusion, he calmly replied, " I spend much time over it, be- cause I intend it to last a long time." In the beginning of the year 1798, the oratorio was completed ; and, in the follow- ing Lent, it was performed, for the first time, in the rooms of the Schwartzenberg palace, at the expense of the Dilettanti society, who had requested it from the author. therefore, turned it as above. The French is as follows : " Du vivant de Handel, Milton avait fait pour ce grand compositeur un oratorio intitule la Creation du Monde, qui, je ne sais pourquoi, ne fut pas mis en musique." I am equally at a loss to understand who the Lydley here spoken of is. In the score now before me, pub- lished at Vienna, under Haydn's own direction, the Enghsh words are evidently translated from the German. In the chorus, " The heaveas are telling the glory of God," the passage, Dera komraenden Tage, sagt es der Tag ; has been converted into nonsense by the attempt to follow the German arrangement of the words. T^ % 236 Who can describe the applause^ the de- light^ the enthusiasm of this society. I was present ; and I can assure you, I never wit- nessed such a scene. The flower of the lite- rary and musical society of Vienna were assembled in the room, which was well adapted to the purpose, and Haydn himself directed the orchestra. The most profound silence, the most scrupulous attention, a sen- timent, I might almost say, of religious re- spect, were the dispositions which prevailed when the first stroke of the bow was given. The general expectation was not disappoint- ed. A long train of beauties, to that mo- ment unknown, unfolded themselves before us ; our minds, overcome with pleasure and admiration, experienced, during two succes- sive hours, what they had rarely felt, — a happy existence, produced by desires, ever lively, ever renewed, and never disappointed. You talk so much in France of Delille, and description, that I shall make no apo- logy for a digression respecting descriptive music. Digression, and description, go hand in hand, and the latter would die of inani- 6 lion, if stripped of all that did not belong to it. A strong objection may be raised against descriptive music. Some unlucky wag may say^ in the words of Voltaire, Mais, entre nous, je crois que vous n'existez pas. They who believe in the real presence, reason as follows : Every one must be sen- sible that music may imitate nature in two ways ; by physical, and by sentimental imi- tation. You remember in the Nozze di Fi- garo, the tin, tin, and the don, don, by which Susanna so humourously mimics the sound of Count Almaviva's bell, when he summoned her husband for some long com- mission, in the duet, Se a caso madama Ti chiaraa^ &c. This is physical imitation. In a German opera, a stupid fellow falls asleep on the stage, while his wife, at the window, sings a duet with her lover. The physical imitation of the snoring of the husband, forms a hu- mourous bass to the soft things which the 238 lover is addressing to the wife : here again is an exact imitation of nature.* This direct imitation amuses for a moment, but soon tires. In the sixteenth century, some of the Italian masters made this species of imitation the basis of a whole opera. In the Podesta cli Coloniola, the professor MeUmi has inserted the following air^ during which the whole orchestra imitates the animals men- tioned in it. Talor la granochioUa nel pantano Per allegrezza canta, qiu\, qua, ra ; Tribbia il grillo, tri, tri, tri ; L'agnellino fa be, be ; L'usigiuiolo, chill, chiii, q\\\\X; Ed il gal curi chi, chi. The learned will tell you that in ancient times Aristophanes employed this kind of imitation on the theatre. f Haydn has used it with great moderation in the Creation, and the * That is, — of Nature a la Franqaise. T. t The verses iu the play of ' The Frogs' are known to every school-boy. BATP.\XOI. Passim. T. ^39 Four Seasons. He has given, for instance, most beautifully, the cooing of the doves ;* but he resolutely opposed the descriptive baron, w^ho was desirous of hearing also the croaking of the frogs. In music, the best physical imitation is, perhaps, that which only just indicates its object ; which shews it to us through a veil, and abstains from scrupulously representing nature exactly as she is. This kind of imita- tion is the perfection of the descriptive depart- ment. Gluck has given a pleasing instance of it in the air of The Pilgrim of Mecca, which resembles the murmur of a brook. Handel has imitated the tranquil fall of the snow, the flakes of which gently descend to the silent earth ;f and Marcello has surpassed every rival in his cantata of Calisto transformed into a hear. * The beauty of the imitative passage, is nearly lost by the injudicious arrangement of the English words. The literal translation of the original is * And sweetly — coo the tender turtle-doves. T. t We believe no such passage is to be found in his works. G. 240 The spectator shudders at the ferocity of the savage accompaniment^ which represents the cries of the furious bear, at the moment when Juno transforms the unfortunate nymph into a cruel and pitiless brute. It is this species of imitation which Haydn has carried to perfection. You are aware, my friend, that all the arts are founded, to a certain degree, on what is not true : an obscure doctrine, notwithstanding its apparent clear- ness, but from which the most important prin- ciples are derived. It is thus that from a dark grotto springs the river which is to water vast provinces. We will one day discuss this sub- ject more at length. You have more pleasure in seeing a beautiful picture of the garden of the Tuileries, than in beholding the same garden, faithfully reflected, from one of the mirrors of the chateau. Yet the scene displayed in the mirror has far more variety of colouring than the painting, were it the work of Claude Lorrain : the figures have motion ; every thing is more true to nature : still you cannot help preferring the picture. A skilful artist never departs from that degree 241 of falsity which is allowed in the art he pro- fesses. He is well aware that it is not by imitating nature to such a degree as to produce deception^ that the arts give pleasure: he makes a distinction between those accurate daubs called eye-traps, and the St. Cecilia of Raphael. Imitation should produce the effect which the object imitated would have upon us, did it strike us in those fortunate moments of sensibility and enjoyment which awaken the passions. So much for the phi/sical imitation of nature by music. The other kind of imitation, which we shall denominate sentimental, (if you do not think the term too ridiculous) retraces not things, but the feelings which they inspire. The air, Deh ! Signore ! sung by Paolino in the Matrimonio segreto^ does not exacly describe the distress of a man who sees his mistress carried offby a great lord, but it paints a profound and tender sadness. The words particularise this tenderness, draw R 24S the outlines of the piece, and the union ol the words and the music, for ever inseparable in our hearts when we have once heard them, forms the most lively picture of impassioned feeling ever drawn. Music of this sort, like the impassioned passa<^es of the Nouvelle HeLoise, or the Letters of a Portuguese Nun, may seem tiresome to many persons : On j>eut etre honnete hoiiune, and not relish it. A man may have this little deficiency, and be very remarkable on other accounts. I would lay a wao'cr that Mr. Pitt cared very little for the air, Fra mille porigli, sung by madame Barilli in the Nemici gcne- Tosi ; and yet, if ever I have a kingdom to govern, Mr. Pitt maybe sure of being minister of finance.* Will you allow me to make a very ridicu- lous comparison } Will you promise, seriously. * Would to heaven that he had nerer been oursT— biflf thedateofthis lett I am probably not a com- petent judge of the Four Seasons. I never heard it more than once, and then my atten- tion was much diverted. I was disputing with a Venetian, who sat by me, on the quantity of melody existing in music, towards the middle of the eighteenth 295 century. I remarked that, at that time, there was scarcely any thing that could be called an air, and that the music was doubtless little else than an agreeable noise. My companion started from his seat at these words, and related to me the adventures of one of his countrymen, the singer Ales- sandro Stradella, who lived about the year 1650. He frequented the most distinguished house in Venice, and ladies of the first rank dis- puted the advantage of taking lessons from him. It was in this way that he became ac- quainted with Hortensia, a Roman lady, who was beloved by a noble Venetian. Stra- della fell in love with her, and had little difficulty in supplanting his rival. He car- ried oft' Hortensia to Rome, where they gave it out that they were married. The fu- rious Venetian sent two assassins in search of them, who, after having vainly sought for them in many towns of Italy, at length, disco- vered the place of their retreat, and arrived at Rome one evening when Stradella was giving an oratorio in the handsome church of St. u 4 296 John Lateral! . The assassins determined to execute their commission when the people came out of the church, and went in to watch one of their victims^ and to examine whether Hortensia w as among the spectators. Scarcely had they listened^ for a few mo- ments, to the delightful voice of Stradella, than they began to soften. They were seized with remorse^ they melted into tears, and their last consideration was how to save the lovers, whose destruction they had sworn. They waited for Stradella at the door of the church, and saw him coming out with Hor-» tcnsia. They approached, thanked him for the pleasure they had just received, and in- formed him that he owed his life to the im- pression which his voice had made upon them. They then explained to him the horrible object of their journey, and advised him to leave Rome iumiediately, in order to give them an opportunity of making the Venetian believe that they had arrived too late. Stradella and Hortensia lost no time in profiting by the advice, and repaired to Turin. 297 The noble Venetian, on receiving the report of his agents, became only the more furious. He went to Rome, for the purpose of concert' ing his measures with Hortensia's own father. He succeeded in persuading the old man that his dishonour could only be washed away in the blood of his daughter and her ravisher, and the unnatural father set out for Turin, with two assassins, after having procured letters of recommendation to the marquis Vil- lars, who was then the French ambassador at that court. In the mean time, the duchess regent of Savoy, having heard of the adventure of the two lovers at Rome, was desirous of saving them. She put Hortensia iuto a convent, and gave Stradella the title of her first musician, as well as apartments in her palace. These precautions appeared to be effectual, and the lovers enjoyed, for some months, a perfect tranquillity, when, one evening, as he was taking the air upon the ramparts of the town, Stradella was attacked by three men, who stabbed him in the breast, and left him for 298 dead. They vrere the father of Hortensia, and his two companions, who immediately took refuge in the palace of the French ambas- sador. M. de Villars, unwilling to afford them protection after the commission of a crime so notorious, or to surrender them to justice after having granted them an asylum, gave them an opportunity of escaping a few days afterwards. Nevertheless, contrary to all expectation, Stradella recovered from his wounds, and the Venetian beheld his projects a second time frustrated ; but without abandoning his plans of revenge. Rendered only more wary by his former failures, he sought to take his measures with greater certainty, and con- tented himself, for the present, with setting spies over Hortensia, and her lover. A year passed in this way. The duchess, more and more interested in their fate, was desirous of marrying them, and rendering their union legitimate. After the ceremony, Hortensia, tired of the confmement of the convent, was desirous of seeing the port of Genoa. Stradella 299 canducted her thither^ and the very day after their arrival, they were found poignarded in iheir bed. This melancholy adventure is said to have taken place in the year 1670. Stradella was a poet, a composer, and the first singer of his time. I replied to the compatriot of Stradella, that mere sweetness of sound, though des- titute of all melody, gives a very considerable pleasure even to the most savage minds. When Murad IV., after having taken Bagdad by assault, in 1637, ordered a general mas- sacre of the inhabitants, one Persian only dared to raise his voice ; he demanded to be conducted to the emperor, as having some- thing of importance to communicate to him before he died. Having prostrated himself at the feet of Murad, Scakculi, such was the Persian's name, cried, with] his face to the eartli ; '' Destroy not, O Sultan, with me, an art of more value than thy whole empire : listen to my song, and then thou shalt command my death." 300 Murad having signified his assent, Scakculi drew from under his robe a little harp, and poured forth, extempore, a sort of romance on the ruin of Bagdad. The stem Murad, in spite of the shame which a Turk feels on betraying the least emotion, was melted to tears, and commanded the massacre to be stopped. Scakculi followed him to Constan- tinople, loaded with riches, and introduced there the music of Persia, in which no Euro- pean has ever been able to distinguish any kind of air whatsoever. I think I see in Haydn, the Tintoret of music. Like the Venetian painter, he unites to the energy of Michel-Angelo, fire, origina- lity, and fertility of invention. All this is invested with a loveliness of colouring, which renders pleasing even the minutest details. I am, nevertheless, of opinion, that the Tintoret of Eisenstadt, was more profound in his art than the Venetian one ; more particularly, he knew how to work slowly. The mania of comparisons seizes me. I trust you with my collection, on condition that you will not laugh at it too much. 1 fancy, then, that Pergolese, and) ,. d i, i ^ > are the Raphaels of music. Cimarosa . . ) Paesiello ... is Guido Durante Lionardo da Vinci Hasse Rubens Handel Michel Angelo Galuppi Bassano. Jomelli Lewis Caracci Gluck Caravaggio Piccini Titian Sacchini Correggio Vinci Pra Bartolommeo Anfossi Albano Zingarelli Guerchino Mayer Carlo Maratti Mozart Dominichino.* * It is rather remarkable, that the annotator should have compared Mozart to the same jjainter ; as the following extract from the Monthly Magazine, March, 1811, will shew, " I cannot conclude thes" o*>servations upon the new music, without paying a tiiuute to the memory of Mozart. For feeling and expression, this 302 The least imperfect resemblance, is that of Paesiello and Giiido. As for Mozart, Dominichino should have a still stronger cast of melancholy, to resemble him en- tirely. The painter had expression, but it was favourite of the muses may be denominated the Domini- chino of our art. During the short time that he flou- rished, he exhibited the most exquisite flights of fancy. His melodies are unrivalled for grace and simplicity ; and shice his death, it is said that Haydn has affirmed that his compositions were models of the most refined elegance, and that in his old age he was studying the works of his pupil. " His imagination has infused a sublimity into the opera, that now renders it the highest of all intellectual pleasures. And it is to be lamented that a great nation, like England, has not talent, or ability, sufficient to repre- sejit and perform any of the works of this great master. " We are still doomed to listen to the efi'eminate strains of Italy, while the gorgeous and terrific Don Juan, and the beautiful Clemenza de Tito lye unopened, and unknown. But the same apathy and puerility which we have censured in the students of the old school, is found to prevail witliin the walls of the first theatre in the world ; and it is matter of curious aioment, that we arc now in pos"- session of the very works that are to form the acme of the- atrical representation in a succeeding ag-e." G. 303 confined for the most part to that of inno- cence, timidity, and respect. Mozart has pourtrayed the most impassioned and deli- cate tenderness, in the airs, Vedrb mentr'io sospiro of the Count Almaviva ; Non so plu tosa son, cosafaccio, of Cherubino ; Dove son i bet momenti, of the Countess ; Andiam, mio bene of Don Juan ; the purest grace in La mia Doralice capace non h in Cosi fan tutti ; and in Giovanni chefate al amore, of Don Juan. The air of happiness, and beauty, by which Raphael's figures are distinguished, is clearly to be recognised in the melodies of Cima- rosa. His distressed characters are, in general, drawn with great success ; instance in Caro- line, in the Matrimonio segreto. Those of Mozart, on the contrary, resemble the virgins 6 304 of Ossian, with fair hair, and blue eyes be- dewed with tears. They are not^ perhaps, so handsome as these brilliant Italians, but they are more interesting. Hear the part of the Countess, in the Nozze di Figaro, sung by madame Barilli ; suppose it played by an impassioned actress, by ma- dame Strina-Sacchi, beautiful as mademoiselle Mars,, you will say, with Shakespeare, that she is Like patience sitting on a monument. On cheerful days, you will prefer Cimarosa ; on melancholy ones, Mozart will have the advantage. I might lengthen my list by introducing the 7nannerist painters, and placing by the side of their names, those of Gretry, and of almost all the young German and Italian composers. But these ideas are probably so peculiar to the writer, that, to you, they will seem strange. Baron Von Svvieten was desirous of en- gaging Haydn in a third descriptive oratorio^ and would have succeeded; but he was ar- 305 tested by death. I also stop^ after having gone over with you all the compositions of my hero. Who would have supposed, when I first wrote to you about Haydn, fifteen months ago, that my chattering would have lasted so long? Your kindness has prevented your being tired with my letters, and they have procured me an agreeable diversion two or three times a-week. Preserve them. If ever I go to Paris, I shall perhaps read them again with pleasure. Adieu. so^ LETTER XXI. Salzburg, June 8, 1009- The musical career of Haydn terminates with the Four Seasons. The labour of this work exhausted his declinins: streno-th. '' I have done/' said he to me, a short time after finishing this oratorio^ " my head is no longer what it was. Formerly, ideas came to me unsought ; I am now obliged to seek for them, and for this I feel I am not formed." He wrote, after this, a few quartetts, but could never finish that numbered 84, though he was employed upon it, almost without in- terruption, for three years. In the latter part of his time he employed himself in putting basses to aiiciont Scotch airs, for each of which he received two guineas from a London bookseller. He arranged near three hun- dred of these, but, in 1803, by order of his physician, he discontinued this occupation 307 also. Life was retiring from him ; he was seized with vertigoes as soon as he sat down to the piano-forte. Prom this time, he never left his garden at GumpendorfF. He sent to his friends, when he was desirous of reminding them of him, a visiting card of his own composition. The words of it are, " My strength is gone, I am old and feeble. The music which accompanies them, stopping in the middle of the period, without arriving at the cadence, well expresses the languish- ing state of the author. All my strength is gone. Old and weak am I. -*._ Ilin ist alle mein Kraft, AH und schwach bin ick. At present, this great man, or rather what remains of him here, is occupied by two ideas only : the fear of falling ill, and the fear of wanting money. He is continually sipping a few drops of Tokay, and receives, with the x2 50S •greatest pleasure^ presents of game, which server to diminish the expence of his little table. The visits of his friends rouse him a little, and he sometimes follows an idea pretty well. For instance. In 1805, the Paris papers an- nounced that he was dead ; and, as he was honorary member of the Institute, that illuS' trious body, which has nothing" of the Ger- man sluggishness about it, caused a mass to he celebrated in honour of him. The idea of this much amused llaydu. lie remarked, '' If these gentlemen had given me notice, I would have gone myself to beat the time to the fine mass of Mozart's, which they have had performed for me." But, notwith- standing' his pleasantry, in his heart, he was very grateful to them. A short time afterwards, IMozart's widow, and son, gave a concert at the pretty theatre de la IVieden, to celebrate Haydn's birth-day. A cantata was performed, which the young Mozart had composed in honour ot^ the iimnortal rival of his father. The native goodness of German hearts should be known, to form an idea of the effect of 309 this concert. I would engage, that, during the three hours it lasted, not a single plea- santry, of any kind, passed in the room. That day reminded the public of Vienna of the loss they had already sustained, as well as of that which they were about to experience. It was agreed to perform the Creation, with the Italian words of Carpani, and one hun- dred and sixty musicians assembled at the palace of prince Lobkowitz. They were aided by three fine voices, ma- dame Frischer, of Berlin, Messrs. Weitmuller, and Radichi. There were more than fifteen hundred persons in the room. The poor old man, notwithstanding his weakness, was desirous of seeing, once more, that public for which he had so long laboured. He was carried into the room in an easy chair. The princess Esterhazi/, and his friend ma- dame de Kurzheck, went to meet him. The flourishes of the orchestra, and still more the agitation of the spectators, announced his arrival. He was placed in the middle of three rows of seats, destined for his X 3 310 friends, and for all that was illustrious in Vienna. Salieri, who directed the orchestra, came to receive Haydn's orders before they began. They embraced ; Saliei^ileh him, flew to his place, and the orchestra commenced amidst the general emotion. It may easily be judged, whether this religious music would appear sublime to an audience, whose hearts were affected by the sight of a great man about to depart out of life. Surrounded by the great, by his friends, by the artists of bis profession, and by charming women, of whom every eye was fixed upon him, Haydn bid a glorious adieu to the world, and to life. The chevalier Capellini, a physician of the fust rank, observed, that Haydn's legs were not sufficiently covered. Scarcely had he given an intimation to those who stood around, than the most beautiful shawls left their charming wearers, to assist in warming the beloved old man. Haydn, whom so much glory, and affec- tion, had caused to shed tears more tlian once, felt himself faint at the end of the 311 first part. His chair was brought. At the moment of leaving the room^ he ordered the chairmen to stop ; thanked the public first, by an inclination of his head ; then, turning to the orchestra, with a feeling truly German, he raised his hands to heaven, and with eyes filled with tears, pronounced his benediction on the ancient companions of his labours. X 4 312 , „,,X.ETTER XXII. Vienna, August 22, 1809. On my return to the Austrian capital, I have to inform you, my dear friend, that the larva of Haydn has also quitted us. That great man no longer exists^ except in our memory. I have often told you, that he was become extremely vvreak before he entered his seventy-eii^hth year. It was the last of his life. No sooner did he approach his piano-forte, than the vertigo returned, and his hands quitted the keys to take up the rosary, that last consolation. The war broke out between Austria and France. This intelligence roused Haydn, and exhausted the remnant of his strength. He was continually enquiring for news ; he went every moment to his piano, and sang, with the small thread of voice which he yet retained, " God preserve the emperor !" 313 The French armies advanced with gigantic strides. At length, on the night of the 10th of May, having reached Schbnbrunn, half a league's distance from Haydn's little garden, they fired, the next morning, fifteen hundred cannon-shot, within two yards of his house, upon Vienna, the town which he so much loved. The old man's imagination repre- sented it as given up to fire and sword. Four bombs fell close to his house. His two servants ran to him, full of terror. The old man, rousing himself, got up from his easy chair, and with a dignified air, demand- ed : " Why this terror ? Know that no dis- aster can come where Haydn is." A con- vulsive shivering prevented him from pro- ceeding, and he was carried to his bed. On the 26th of May, his strength diminished sen- sibly. Nevertheless, having caused himself to be carried to his piano, he sung thrice, as loud as he was able, " God preserve the emperor !" It was the song" of the swan. While at tlie piano, he fell into a kind of stupor, and, at 314 last, expired on the morning of the 3 1st, aged seventy-eight years and two months. Madame de Kurzbeck, at the moment of the occupation of Vienna, had entreated him to allow of his being removed to her house in the interior of the city : he thanked her, but declined leaving his beloved retreat. Haydn was buried at GumpendorfF, as a private individual. It is said, however, that prince Esterhazy intends to erect a monument to him, A few weeks after his death, Mozart's requiem was performed in honour of him, in the Scotch church. 1 ventured into the city, to attend this ceremony. I saw there some generals and administratoi-s of the French army, who appeared affected with the loss which the arts had just sustained. I recog- nized the accents of my native land, and spoke to several of them ; and, among others, to an amiable man, who wore that day the uniform of the Institute of France, which I thought very elegant. A similar respect was paid to the memory of Haydn at Breslau, and at the Conserva- 315 toire of Paris, where a hymn of Cherubini's composition was performed. The words are insipid, as usual ; but the music is worthy of the great man whom it celebrates. During all his life, Haydn was very reli- gious. Without assuming the preacher, it may be said, that his talent was increased by his sincere faith in the truths of religion. At the commencement of all his scores, the fol- lowing words are described. In nomine Domini, or, Soli Deo gloria, and at the conclusion of all of them is written, Laus Deo. When, in composing, he felt the ardour of his imagination decline, or was stopped by some insurmountable difficulty, he rose from the piano-forte, and began to run over his rosary. He said, that he never found this method fail. " When I was employed upon the Creation," said he, '' I felt myself so pe- netrated with religious feeling, that, before I sat down to the piano-forte, I prayed to God 316 with earnestness, that he would enable me to praise him worthily." Haydn's heir is a blacksmith, to whom he has left 38,000 florins in paper, deducting 12,000, which he bequeathed to his two faithful servants. His manuscripts were sold by auction, and purchased by prince Ester- hazy. Prince Lichtcnstein was desirous of havinir our composer's old parrot, of which many wonderful stories were told. When he was younger, it was said, he sung and spoke se- veral languages, and people would have it, that he had been instructed by his master. The astonishment of the blacksmith, when he saw the parrot sold for 1,400 florins, diverted all who were present at the sale. I do not know who purchased his watch. It was given to him by admiral Nelson, who called upon him, when he passed through Vienna, and asked him to make him a present of one of his pens, begging him to accept, in return, the watch he had worn iri so many en- fi-ao-einents. 317 Haydn wrote for his epitaph Feni, scripsi, vixi. He has left no posterity. Cherubini^ Pleyel^ Neukomrn, and Weigl, may be considered as his disciples. Haydn had the same weakness as the ce- lebrated Austrian minister, prince Kaunitz ; he could not bear to be painted as an old man. In 1800^ he was seriously angry with a painter who had represented him as he then was : that is to say, in his seventy-eighth year. " If I was Haydn, when I was forty," said he to him, '' why would you transmit to posterity a Haydn of seventy-eight ? Neither you nor I gain by the alteration." Such were the life and death of this cele- brated man. * * There are many biographical accounts of Haydn. I think, as is natural, that mine is the most exatt. I spare the reader the reasons on which I found this asser- tion ; but if any man of information should dispute the facts I have advanced, I would defend their v€racity. As to taste in music, every man has one of his own, or none 318 Why did all the illustrious French writers in the belle lettres, properly so Ccalled^ La Fontaine, Corneille, Moliere, Racine, Bossuet, happen to meet about the year 1660 ? Why did all the great painters appear about the year 1510? Why has nature been so sparing", since these fortunate aeras ? Im- portant questions, of which the public adopts at all. For the rest, there is not, perhaps, a single phrase in this account which has not been translated from some foreign work. There is no great room for vanity in a few lines of reflections on the fine arts. We plume ourselves, in the present day, on teaching others what to do. In happier times, a man founded his reputation on what he had done himself: and it must be confessed, that it was a more direct way of proving his acquaintance w'ith his principles. Optumus qulsque facer e, quam dicere, sua ah aliis facta laudari, quam ipse aliorum narrare mahbat. Sallust. The author has expunged, as far as he was able, the in- numerable repetitions of the original letters, which were written to a man, formed to be superior in the tine arts, but who had but just discovered that he was foud of music. 319 a new solution every ten years, because a sa- tisfactory one has not yet been found. One thing is certain, that after these periods, we have nothing. Voltaire has a thousand various merits : Montesquieu teaches us the most useful of the sci- ences, with ail the interest possible : Buf- fon has descanted on nature with magnifi- cence : Rousseau, the greatest of them all in literature, is the first French writer for beautiful prose. But as literati, that is, as men who gave pleasure by means of print- ed words, how inferior are these great men to La Fontaine, or Corneille, for in- stance ! It is the same with painting, if you ex cept the fortunate irruption which, a cen- tury after Raphael and Correggio, gave to the world Guido, the Caracci, and Domi- nichino. Does the same fate await music ? Every thing would lead us to suppose so. Cima- rosa, Mozart, and Haydn, have just left us, and nothing appears to repair their loss. Do you ask why ? This is my answer. The 320 artists of the present day imitate them :^-* they imitated nobody. Having once acquired a knowledge of the mechanical part of the art^ each of them wrote what pleased his own taste. They wrote for themselves, and for those organized like themselves. Pergolese, and Sacchmi^ wrote from the dictation of the passions. At present, our most distinguished artists are employed on works of amusement. What can be more diverting than the Cantatrici villane of Fio- ravanti ? Compare them with the Mairimonio segreto. The Matrimonio gives extreme plea- sure when one is in a certain temper; the Cantatrici are always amusing. I would re* mind you of the exhibition given at the Tu- ileries, in 1810. Every body preferred the Ca7itatrici to all the other Italian operas ; because, to be amused by these lovely inha- bitants of Frascati, requires the smallest de- gree of sensibility which music can do with, and this was precisely the proportion which the audience brought with them. To be formally dressed, and in sight of a court tUled with the anxieties of ambition, is cer- G tainly a situation^ of all others^ least favour- able to music. In the arts^ and^ I think, in all human pursuits which admit of originality, a man is either himself, — or nobody. I infer, there- fore, that the musicians who devote them- selves to the department of amusement, think that genus the best, and are men without any real warmth of feeling. Now what are the arts, without true feeling in the artist After the celestial purity of Virgil, the wit of Seneca came into fashion at Rome. We, at Paris, have also our Senecas, who, while they extol the beautiful simplicity of Pene- lon, and the age of Louis XIV. depart from it, as far as possible, by a style full of point and affectation. Thus, also, Sacchini, and Cimarosa, are disappearing from the Italian theatres, to make room for composers, who, in their eagerness to distin- guish themselves, fall into what is far-fetched, extravagant, and unnatural, and seek rather to astonish than to atfect. The difficulty and tiresomeness of the concerto is every where Y 322 introduced, and what is still worsCj the con- tinual use of these high-seasoned dishes ren- ders us insensible to the perfumed flavour of the peach. It is said, at Paris, that those who are desirous of preserving a pure taste in lite- rature, read, as models, only the writers who appeared before the close of the seventeenth century, and the four great authors of the following one. They refer to the books which have been published since, and to those which daily issue from the press, for the facts which they contain, Historia, quoque niodo scripta, placet: but endeavour to preserve themselves from the contagion of their style. Perhaps our young musicians ought to do the same. What other method is there of escaping that general Senecism, which is corrupting all the arts, and to which Canova is the only living exception, that I know of; for Paesiello has ceased his labours. U23 CATALOGUE Of the works which Joseph Haydn, aged seventh/ -three years, recollected to have torn- posed since the age of eighteen. 118 Symphonies. Pieces for the haryton, a favourite instru- ment of the late prince Nicholas Ester- hazy. IS5 Divertimentos for the baryton '., viola. and violoncello. 8 Duets. 12 Sonatas for the baryton and violon- cello. 6 Serenades. 5 do. in 8 parts. . 3 do. in 5. 1 do. in 3. 1 do. in 4. 1 do. in 6. 3 Concertos for two violins and a bass. Total 165 Pieces for the baryton. Y 2 324 Divertimentos for various instruments in 5, 6^ 7^ 8^ and 9 parts. 5 Pieces in 5 parts. \0 1 do. in 4. 9 do. in &. 1 do. in 8. 2 do. in 9. 2 do. (Haydn did not recollect how many instruments.) 2 Marches. 21 Pieces for 2 violins and violoncello. 6 Sonatas for the violin with accom- paniment for the viola. Echo for 4 violins and 2 violoncellos. Concertos. 3 for the violin. 3 for the violoncello. 2 for the contrabasso. 1 for the horn in D. 2 for two horns. 1 for the clarinet. 1 for the flute. 3^5 Masses, Offertories, Te Deum, Salve Regina, Choruses. 1 Mass. Celeusis. 2 Masses. Sunt bona mixta malis, 5 Masses. Brevis. 1 Mass of St. Joseph. 6 Masses for the troops in time of war. 7 Solemn masses. 4 Offertories. 1 Salve Regina, for four voices. ] Salve, for the organ solo. 1 Chant for the Advent. 1 Response. Lauda Sion Salvatorem. J TeDeum. 2 Choruses. 1 Stabat Mater for a full orchestra. 82 Quartetts. 1 Concerto for the organ. 3 Ditto for the harpsichord. 1 Divertimento for the harpsichord, violin, two horns, and an alto. 1 do. for two performers. I do. for the baryton and two violins. Y 3 326 4 Divertimentos for two violins and an alto. 1 Divertimento, with twenty variations. 15 Sonatas for the piano-forte. 1 Fantasia. 1 Capriccio. 1 Thema, with variation in G. 1 do. with variation in F. 29 Sonatas for the piano-forte, violin, and violoncello. 42 Allemandes, among- them some Italian songs and duets. 39 Canons for several voices. German Operas. The Devil on Two Sticks. Philemon and Baucis, for puppets, in 1773. The Witches Sabbath, do. in 1773. Genoviefa, do. in 1777. Dido, do. in 1778, Italian Operas. La Cauuiriiia. Lo Incoutro improvviso Lo Speziale. 2 337 La Pescatrice. II Mondo della Luna. La Isola disabitata. La Infedelta premiata. La Vera Costanza. Orlando Paladino. Armida^ Acide e Galatea. La Infedelta delusa, Orfeo. Oratorios. The return of Tobias. The Seven Words of the Saviour on the Cross. The Creation of the World. The Pour Seasons. 13 Cantatas, for 3 and 4 voices. In English. Selection of 150 Original Songs. 216 Scotch Songs, with symphonies and accompaniments. Y 4 328 Works written hy Haydn, during his residence in London. Copied from his Journal. Orfeo^ opera seria. 6 Symphonies. Sinfonia concertante. The Tempestj a chorus. 3 Symphonies. Air for David, Sen'. Macone for Gallini. 6 Quartetts. 3 Sonatas for Drodevif. (Broderip) 3 Sonatas for P. 3 Sonatas for M. Jonson. 1 Sonata in F minor. 1 Sonata in G. The Dream. 1 Compliment for Harrington. 6 English Songs. 100 Scotch Songs. 50 Ditto. 2 Divertimentos for the Flute. 3 Symphonies. 4 Songs for F. 2 Marches. 329 J Air for Mistress P. 1 God save the King. 1 Air^ with orchestra accompaniment. Invocation to Neptune. 1 Canon. The Ten Commandments. 1 March. The Prince of Wales. 2 Divertimentos for several voices. 24 Minuets and German airs for dancing. 13 Ballads for Lord A. Different songs. Canons. 1 Song with orchestra accompaniment for Lord A. 4 Country dances. 6 Songs. Overture for Covent Garden. Air for Madame Banti. 4 Scotch Songs. 2 Songs. 2 Country dances. 5 Sonatas for Broderich. (Broderip) ► CANON CANCRIZANS a 3 vocfe. HAYDN. 5 g ^ i-e- TLy Voice Ha.i:-iiio - iLy is di-viiie Qiitr - xB •i.JL ^xr our - rc^H saxo/^^xLT i 35ir ^ 3=f :P ■o- am A — ip ST jCxr ora: - J-^H 9i>^9A. ^"TlX ::5: 5 ^ 1 — g" -^ ^ ff See page 196. The music ifhy be read backwards by shining il on this $ide- THE LIFE OF MOZART. Venice, July 22, 1814. YOU are desirous, my friend, of some information respecting the Life of Mozart. I have enquired for the best memoir of that celebrated man, and have had the patience to translate for you, the Biographical notice published by M. SchlictegroU. I now present you with it : excuse its simplicity. THE LIFE OF MO ZART, TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF M. SCHLICTEGROLL. CHAPTER I. HIS CHILDHOOD. JLHE father of Mozart had the g-reatest in- fluence upon the singular destiny of his son^ whose dispositions he developed^ and perhaps modified : it is therefore necessary, in the first place, to say a few words concerning him. Leopold Mozart was the son of a book- binder of Augsburg. He pursued his studies at Salzburg ; and, in 1743, was admitted into the number of the musicians of the prince- archbishop of that city. In 1762, he became sub-director of the prince's chapel. As the 336 duties of his office did not take up the whole of his tirne^ he employed a part of it in giving lessons on the violin, and teaching the rules of musical composition. He published '' An Essay on teaching the Violin with accuracy/' which met with good success. He married Anna Maria Peril ; and it has been remarked, as a circumstance worthy the attention of an exact observer, that this couple, which gave birth to an artist so happily organised for musical harmony, were noted in Salzburg for their uncommon beauty. Of seven children sprung from this mar- riage, two only lived ; a daughter, Mary Ann ; and a son, of whom we are now to speak. John-Chrysostom-Wolfgang-Theophilus Mo- zart, was born at Salzburg, on the 27th of January, 1756. A few years afterwards, his father discontinued giving lessons in the town, and determined to devote all the time which the duties of his office left at his disposal, to the superintendance of the musical education of his two children. The daughter, who was rather older than Wolfgang, made great proficiency, and shared 2 337 the public admiration with her brother, in the excursions which she afterwards made with her family. She married, in the sequel, a coun- sellor of the prince-archbishop of Salzburg^, preferring domestic happiness to the renown of distinguished talent. Mozart was scarcely three years old when Tiis father began to give lessons on the harpsi- chord to his sister, who was then seven. His astonishing disposition for music immediately manifested itself. His delight was to seek for thirds on the piano, and nothing could equal his joy when he had found this harmo- nious chord. The minute details into ^vhich I am about to enter, will, I presume, be inte- resting to the reader. When he was four years old, his father began to teach him, almost in sport, some minuets, and other pieces of music, an occu- pation which was as agreeable to the master, as to the pupil. Mozart would learn a minuet in half an hour, and a piece of greater extent in less than twice that time. Immediately after, he played them with the greatest clear- ness, and perfectly in time. In less thaa z 338 a year, he made such rapid progress^ thaf, lat five years old^ he ah'eady invented little pieces of music which he played to his father^ •and v\hich the latter^ in order to encourage the rising talent of his son^ was at the trouble of writing down. Before the little Mozart •acquired a taste for music, he was so fond of all the amusements of his age, which were in any way calculated to interest him, that •he sacrificed even his meals to them. On every occasion he manifested a feeling and affec- tionate heart. He would say ten times in a day to those about him, '' Do you love me well?" and whenever in jest they said No, the tears would roll down his cheeks. From the moment he became acquainted with music, -his relish for the sports and amusements of ~ his age vanished, or to render them pleas- • ing to him, it was necessary to introduce music in them. A friend of his parents often amused himself in playing with him : sometimes they carried the play-things in pro- '. cession from one room to another: then, the one who had nothing to carry, sung a march, -orplayed it on the violin. - , • • 339 During some months^ a fondness for the usual studies of childhood gained such an ascendancy over Wolfgang, that he sacrificed every things, even musiCj to it. While he was learning arithmetic, the tables, the chairs, and even the walls, were covered with figures which he had chalked upon them. The viva- city of his mind led him to attach himself easily to every new object that was presented to him. Music, however, soon became agaift the favourite object of his pursuit. He made such rapid advances in it, that his father, not- withstanding he was always with him, and in the way of observing his progress, could not help regarding him as a prodigy. The following anecdote, related by an eye-witness, is, a proof of this. His father, returning from the church one day with a friend, found his .son busy in writing. " What are you doing there, my little fellow ?" asked he. " I am composing a concerto for the harpsichord, and have almost got to the end of the first part."^-" Let us see this fine scrawl,"— "' No, I have not yet finished it." The father, , ho we vfer, took.th^ z 2 340 paper, and shewed his friend a sheet-full of notes, which could scarcely be decyphered for the blots of ink. The two friends at first laughed heartily at this heap of scribbling, but, after a little time, when the father had looked at it with more attention, his eyes were fastened on the paper ; and, at length, overflowed with tears of joy, and wonder, '* Look^ my friend," said he, with a smile of delight; " every thing js composed according to the rules : it is a pity that the piece cannot be made any use of, but it is too difficult: nobody would be able to play it." — It is a concerto, replied the son, and must be studied till it can be properly played. — ''This is the style in which it ought to be executed/' He accordingly began to play, but succeeded only so far as to give them an idea of what he had intended. At that time, the young Mozart firmly believed that to play a concerto was about as easy as to work a miracle, and, accord- ingly, the composition in question was a heap of notes, correctly placed, but presenting so many difficulties, that the most skilful performer would have found it impossible to play it. 341 'The young composer so astonished his father, that the latter conceived the idea of exhibiting- him at the different courts of Ger- many. There is nothing extraordinary in such an idea in this country. As soon, there- fore, as Wolfgang had attained his sixth year, the Mozart family, consisting of the father, the mother, the daughter, and Wolf- gang, took a journey to Munich. The two children performed before the elector, and received infinite commendations. This first expedition succeeded in every respect. The . young artists, delighted with the reception they had met with, redoubled their applica- tion on their return to Salzburg, and acquir- ed a degree of execution on the piano, which no longer required the consideration of their youth, to render it highly remarkable. Du- ring the autumn of the j^ear 1763, the whole family repaired to Vienna, and the children performed before the court. The emperor Francis I., said, in jest, on that occasion, to little Wolfgang : '' It is not very difficult to play with all one's fingers^ 342 Tbut to play with only one, without seeing the keySj would indeed be extraordinary." With- out manifesting the least surprise at this strange proposal, the child immediately began to play with a single finger, and with the greatest possible precision, and clearness. He afterwards desired them to cover the keys of the piano-forte, and continued to play in the same manner, as if he had long prac- tised it. From his most tender age, Mozart, animated with the true feeling of his art, was never vain of the compliments paid him by the great. He only performed insignificant trifles when he had to do with people unacquainted with music. He played, on the contrary, with all the fire, and attention, of which he was capable, when in the presence of connois- seurs ; and his father was often obliged to have recourse to artifice, and to make the great men, before whom he was to exhibit, pass for such with him. When Mozart, at the age of six years, sat down to play in presence of the emperor Francis, he addressed 2 343 himself to his majesty, and asked : '' Is not M. Wagenseil here ? We must send for him : he understands the thing." The emperor sent for Wagenseil, and gave up his place to him, by the side of the piano. " Sir/' said Mozart, to the composer, "^ I am going to play one of your concertos; you must turn over the leaves for me." Hitherto, Wolfgang had only played on the harpsichord, and the extraordinary skill which he displayed on that instrument, seemed to exclude even the wish that he should apply to any other. But the genius which animated him, far surpassed any hopes that his friends could have dared to entertain : he had not even occasion for lessons. On his return from Vienna to Salzburg with his parents, he brought with him a small violin, which had been given him during his residence at the capital, and amused himself with it. A short time afterwards, Wenzl, a skilful violin player, who had then just begun to compose, came to Mozart, the father, to request his observations on six trios, which he had written during the journey of the z 4 544 former to Vienna. Schachtner, the arch* bishop's trumpeter, to whom Mozart was par- ticularly attached, happened to be at the house, and we give the following anecdote in his words : " The father/' said Schachtner, " played the bass, Wenzl the firj-t violin, and 1 was to play the second. Mozart requested permission to take this last part; but his father reproved him for this childish de> mand, observing, that as he had never re- ceived any regular lessons on the violin, he could not possibly play it properly. The son replied, that it did not appear to him necessary to receive lessons in order to play the second violin. His father, half angry at this reply, told him to go away, and not inter- rupt us. Wolfgang was so hurt at this, that he began to cry bitterly. As he was going away with his little violin, I begged that he might be permitted to play with me, and the father, with a good deal of difficulty, con- sented. Well, said he to Wolfgang, you may play with M. Schachtner, on condition that you play very softly, and do not let your- 345 self be heard : otherwise, 1 shall send you out directly. We began the trio, little Mo» lart playing with me, but it was not long before 1 perceived, with the greatest astonish- ment, that I was perfectly useless. Without saying any thing, I laid down my violin, and looked at the father, who shed tears of affection at the sight. The child played all the six trios in the same manner. The com- mendations we gave him made him pretend that he could play the first violin. To humour him, we let him try, and could not forbear laughing on hearing him execute this part, very imperfectly, it is true, but still so as never to be set fast.'* Every day afforded fresh proofs of Mozart's exquisite organization for music. He could distinguish, and point out^ the slightest diffe- rences of sound, and every false or even rough note, not softened by some chord, was a torture to him. It was from this cause that during the early part of his childhood, and even till he had attained his tenth year, he had an insurmountable horror for the trumpet, when it was not used merely as an accom- 346 panimeiit. The sight of this instrument pro- duced upon him much the same impression as that of a loaded pistol does upon other chil- dren^ when pointed at them in sport. His father thought he could cure him of this fear^ by causing' the trumpet to be blown in his presence, notwithstanding his son's en- treaties to be spared that torment; but, at the first blast, he turned pale, fell upon the floor, and would probably have been in con- vulsions, if they had not inunediately ceased. After he had made some proficiency upon the violin, he occasionally made use of that of Schachtner, the family friend whom we have just mentioned, which he highly es- teemed, because he drew from it sounds ex- tremely soft. Schachtner, one day, came to the house, while the young IMozart was amusing himself with playing on his own violin. '' What is your violin doing ?" was the child's first enquiry ; and he then went on playing fantasies. After a few moments pause, he said to Schachtner, " Could not you have left me your violin, tuned as it was when I last used it } It is half a quarter of a note 347 below this." They at first laughed at this scrupulous exactness ; but the father^ who had often observed his son's extraordinary memory for sounds, sent for the violin^ and to the great astonishment of all present, it was half a quarter of a note below the other, as Wolf- gang had said. Though the child every day beheld new proofs of the astonishment, and admiration, inspired by his talents, it neither rendered him proud, nor self-willed: a man in talent, in every thing else he was an obedient and docile child. Never did he appear dissatisfied with any thing that his father ordered. Even after playing the whole of the day, he would continue to do so, without shewing the least ill-humour, when his father desired it. H^ understood, and obeyed the slightest signs made by his parents, and carried his obedience so far as to refuse the sweetmeats which were offered him, when he had not their permission to accept them. ♦ In the month of July, 1763, when he was in his seventh year, his family set out on their 348 first expedition beyond the boundaries of Germany ; and it is from this period that the celebrity of the name of Mozart in Europe is to be dated. The tour commenced with Munich, where the young artist played a concerto on the violin, in presence of the elector, after an extempore prelude. At Augs- burg, Manheim, Francfort, Coblentz, Brus- sels, the two children gave public concerts, or played before the princes of the district, and received every where the greatest com- mendations. In the month of November they arrived at Paris, where they remained five months. They performed at Versailles, aiKl Wolfgang played the organ of the king's chapel before the court. They gave in Paris two grand public concerts, and universally met with the most distinguished reception. They were even so far honoured as to have their por- traits taken : the father was engraved be- tween his two children, from a design of Car- montelle's. It was at Paris that Mozart com- posed and published his two tirst works, one 349 of which he dedicated to the princess Victoire, second daughter of Louis XV., and the other to the countess de Tesse. In Aprils 1764, the Mozarts went to Eng- Jand, where they remained till about the middle of the following year. The children performed before the king, and, as at Ver- sailles, the son played the organ of the royal chapel. His performance on the organ was thought more of, at London, than his exhi- bitions on the harpsichord. During his stay there, he and his sister gave a grand concert^ all the symphonies of which were his own composition. It may be supposed that the two children, and especially Wolfgang, did not stop at a degree of proficiency which every day pro- cured them such flattering applause. Not- withstanding their continual removals, they practised with the greatest regularity, and Wolfgang began to sing difficult airs, which he executed with great expression. The in- credulous, at Paris and at London, had put him to the trial with various difficult pieces of Bach, Handel, and other masters ; he \ 350 played them immediately, at first sight, and with the greatest possible correctness. He played, one day, before the king of Eng- land, a piece full of melody, from the bass only.* At another lime. Christian Bach, the queen's music-master, took little Mozart between his knees, and played a few bars. * What Mozart here did, by the aid of his natural genius only, performers in general are directed to do by means of tigures placed over the notes, which indicate the harmony to be played by the right hand. This method of expressing by figures the various combinations of sound, is denominated thorough bass. To do this with accuracy is become a desideratum in music, for, as the early harmonists had no idea of many of the combinations which are found in the works of modern authors, their scheme of figuring is found totally inadequate to the present state of musical science. In consequence of this deficiency, the nomenclature of the art has been loaded with the barbarous terms of chords by supposition, retardation, suspension ; diminished, superfluous, anomalous, spurious, &c ; and the science of thorough bass is become a labyrinth of inextricable per- plexity. To get rid of this confusion, we must simplify the art, by establishing the principle, that all combinations of the musical scale are admissible into the harmonic cotle. I,t S51 Mozart then continued, and they thus played alternately a whole sonata, with such preci- sion, that those who did not see them thought it was executed by the same person. During his residence in England, that is, when he was eight years old, Wolfgang composed six sonatas which were ens^raved at London, and dedicated to the queen. will then be an easy operation to refer the different mix- tures to oae of the following classes. The Common Chord The Chord of the 7th The Extreme flat 7th The 13th,'including the sharp 7th, 9th, and 11th The 35th or Ultimate Chord. By the Ultimate Chord, we mean that in which all the tones, and semi-tones, of the scale are comprehended. It is formed by alternately placing a minor third upon a major, and may be resolved into pure harmony, by the inter- vention of the chord of the 7th. g fg^t^ PJi G. 352 In the month of July, 1765, the Mozart family returned to Calais, from whence they continued their journey through Flanders, where the young artist often played the organs of the monasteries, and cathedral churches. At the Hague, the two children had an illness which endangered their lives, and from which they were four months in recovering. Wolfgang composed six sonatas for the piano-forte during his convalescence, which he dedicated to the princess of Nassau- Weilbour. In the beginning of the year 1766, they passed a month at Amsterdam, from whence they repaired to the Hague, to be present at the installation of the prince of Orange. Mozart composed for this solemnity a quodlibet for all the instruments, and also different airs and variations fbr the prin- cess. After having performed several times be- fore the Stadtholder, they returned to Paris, where they staid two months, and then re- turned to Germany, by Lyons and Switzer- land. At Munich, the elector gave Mozart a musical theme^ and required him to dey«- 353 lope it^ and write it down immediately, which he did in the prince's presence, without re- curring either to the harpsichord or the violin. After writing it, he played it : which excited the greatest astonishment in the elector and his whole court. After an absence of more than three years, they returned to Salzburg, towards the end of November, J 766, where they remained till the autumn of the following year, and this tranquillity seemed further to augment the talents of Wolfgang. In 1768, the children performed at Vienna, in presence of the emperor Joseph II., who commissioned Mozart to compose the music of an opera butfa — the Finta Semplice. It was approved of by Hasse, the maitre de chapelle, and by Metastasio, but was never brought on the stage. On many occasions, at the houses of the professors Bono, and Hasse, of Metas- tasio, of the duke of Braganza, of prince Kaunitz, the father desired any Italian air that was at hand to be given to his son, who wrote the parts for all the instru- ments in presence of the company. At 2 a 354 the dedication of the church of The Orphans he composed the music of the mass, the mo- tet^ and a trumpet duet, and directed this solemn music, in presence of the imperial court, though he was at that time only twelve years old. He returned to pass the year 1769 at Salz- buro'. In the month of December, his father took him into Itah, just after he had been appomted director of the archbishop of Salz- burg's concert. We may imagine the recep- tion given in that country to this celebrated child, who had excited such admiration in the other parts of Europe. The house of count Firmian, the governor- general, was the theatre of his glory at Milan. After having received the poem of the opera to be performed during the car- nival of 177L and of which he undertook to write the music, Wolfgang quitted that city in the month of March, 1770. At Bo- logna, he found an enthusiastic admirer in the celebrated Father Martini, the same per- son of whom Jomelli came to take lessons. Father Martini^ and the Bologna amateurs. 355 were transported at seeing a child of thirteen, whose small stature made him appear still younger, develope all the subjects of fugues proposed by Martini, and execute them on the piano-forte, without hesitating, and with the greatest precision. At Florence, he ex- cited similar astonishment by the correctness with which he played, at sight, the most dif- ficult fugues and themes, proposed to him by the marquis de Ligneville, a distinguished amateur. We have an anecdote respecting him, during his residence at Florence, which does not immediately relate to music. He became acquainted, in that city, with a young Englishman, of about his own age, whose name was Thomas Linley, He was a piipil of Martini, and played on the violin with admirable skill, and gracefulness. The friendship of the two boys became quite ar- dent, and, on the day of their separation, Linley gave his friend Mozart some verses, which he had procured for the purpose, from the celebrated Gorilla. He accompanied him to the gate of the town, and their parting 2a2 556 was attend ed with a copious effusion of tears. In tlie passion-week, the Mozarts repaired to Rome, where, as may be supposed, they did not fail to hear the celebrated Miserere, performed in the Sixtine chapel, on the even- ing" of Ash-Wednesday. As it was said, at that time, that the pope's nmsicians were forbidden to give copies of it, under pain of excommunication. Wolfg-ano- determined to commit it to memory, and actually wrote it all down on his return to his irui. The service being repeated, on Good-Friday, he again attended with his manuscript in his hat, and had thus an opportunity of making some cor- rections. The story was much talked of in Rome, but the thing appeared so incredible, that in order to ascertain its truth, the child was engaged to sing this Miserere at a public concert. He executed it to j>erfection, and the amazement of Cristofori, who had sung it at the Sixtine chapel, and who was pre- sent, rendered the triumph of Mozart com- plete. The difficulty of what he thus accom- 357 plished is much greater than may at first be imagined. But^ for the sake of ex- planation, I shall enter into a few details respecting the Sixtine chapel^ and the Mi- serere. In this chapel^ there are usually not less than thirty-two voices, without an organ, or any other instrument to accompany or sup- port them. The establishment reached its highest perfection about the commencement of the eighteenth century. Since that time^ the salaries of the singers at the pope's chapel having remained nominally the same^ and consequently being really much dimi- nished, while the opera was rising in esti- mation, and good singers obtained premiums, before unknown, the Sixtine chapel has gra- dually lost the talents it originally pos- sessed. The Miserere, which is performed there twice in passion-week, and which produces such an effect upon strangers, was com- posed, about two hundred years since, by Gregorio Allegri, a descendant of Antonio Al- legri, better known by the name of Correggio, 2 a 3 358 At the moment of its commencement, the pope and cardinals prostrate themselves. The light of the tapers illumines the representa- tion of the last judgment, painted by Michael Angelo^ on the wall with which the altar is connected. As the service proceeds, the ta- pers are extinguished, one after the other, and the impression produced by the figures of the damned, painted with terrific power, by Michael Angelo, is increased in avvfulness, when they are dimly seen by the pale light of the last tapers. When the service is on the point of concluding, the leader, who beats the time, renders it imperceptibly slower ; the singers diminish the volume of their voices, and the sinner, confounded before the ma- jesty of his God, and prostrated before his throne, seems to await in silence his final doom. The sublime eft'ect of this composition de- pends, as it appears, on the manner in which it is sung, and the place in which it is per- formed. There is a kind of traditional know- ledge, by which the pope's singers are taught C€»rtain ways of managing their voices, so as 359 to produce the greatest effect^ and which it is impossible to express by notes.* Their * One thing of great importance to the effect of a mu- sical composition, for the expression of which no written characteis were formerly employed, is accent. By accent, in music, is to be understood, the manner in which sounds are uttered, without reference to their loudness, or softness, or to their pitch in the musical scale. The same note may be struck on a drum, with a glove, or with a stick, but the accent of it will be diffe- rent. The note of a harpsichord-wire is the same with that of a piano-forte, but the accent is not so, the sounds of the one being produced by a quill, those of the other by a hammer. The natural accent of all the instruments is different, but the performer is enabled to vary it at pleasure, by certain methods of playing. This is particularly the case with the violin, on which every variety of accent may be produced by means of the bow. We recommend the treatise of M. Baillot, on this subject, to every student. As no characters have yet been adopted that will suf ficiently express these varieties, it is evident that the kind of accent given to any note, will depend on the taste and fancy of the performer, and it will not therefore appear surprising, that the effect of the same music should often be very different, as in the case of the Miserere. But though the species of the accent is left thus unde- cided, its place depends on certain laws, derived from the 2 a4 360 singing possesses all the qualities which ren- der music affecting". The same melody is repeated to all the verses of the psalm, but the music, though similar in the masses, is not so in the details. It is accordingly easy to be understood, without being tiresome. The peculiarity of the Sixtine chapel, con- sists in accelerating: or retarding; the time in certain expressions, in swelling or diminish- ing' the voice according to the sense of the words, and in singing some of the verses with more animation than others. The following anecdote will shew still more clearly the difficulty of the exploit performed by Mozart in singing the Miserere. same principles as those which regulate the cadences of poetry, and the euphony of language in general, — namely, that the ear requires the observance of a certain propor- tion in the distances at which the emphatic notes or words recur. These proportions will vary, according to the time of the music, and the species of versification ; and, hence arises the dithculty of translating the words of a piece of vocal music, without destroying that unity of accent which should always subsist between them. G. 361 It is related that the emperor Leopold I. who not only was fond of music, but was himself a good composer, requested of the pope, through his ambassador, a copy of the Miserere of Allegri, for the use of the impe- rial chapel at Vienna. The request was com- plied with, and the director of the Sixtine chapel caused a copy to be written out, which was immediately transmitted to the em- peror, who had in his service the first singers of the day. Notwithstanding their talents, the Miserere of Allegri produced, at Vienna, no more ef- fect than the dullest common chant, and the emperor and his court were persuaded that the pope's maitre de chapelle, desirous of keeping the Miserere to himself, had eluded his master's orders, and sent an inferior com- position. A courier was immediately dis- patched to complaiu to the pope of this want of respect, and the director was dismissed without being allowed to say a word in his own justification. The poor man, however, prevailed on one of the cardinals to intercede '362 for him, and to represent to his holiness that the manner of performing the Miserere could not be expressed in notes ; but required much time, and repeated lessons from the singers of the chapel, who possessed the traditional knowledge of it. The pope, who knew no- thing of music, could scarcely comprehend how the same notes should not be just as good at Vienna, as at Rome. He, however, allowed the poor maitre de chapelle to write his defence to the emperor, and, in time, he was received again into favour. It was this well-known anecdote, which oc- casioned the people of Rome to be so astonished when they heard a child sing their Miserere, correctly, after two lessons. No- thing is more difficult than to excite surprise in Rome, in any thing relating to the fine arts. The most brilliant reputation dwindles into insignificance in that celebrated city, where the finest productions of every art are the subjects of daily, and familiar, contem- plation. I know not whether it arose from the repu- 36S tation which it procured him, but it appears that the solemn and affecting chant of the Miserere, made a deep impression in the mind of Mozart, who shewed, ever afterwards, a marked preference for Handel, and the tender Boccherini. 364 CHAPTER II. SEQUEL OF THE CHILDHOOD OF MOZART. From Rome, the Mozarts went to Naples, where Wolfgang played on the piano-forte at the Conservatorio alia pieta. When he was in the middle of his sonata, the audience took it into their heads, that there was a charm in the ring which he wore. It became ne- cessary to explain to him the cause of the disturbance which arose, and he was at last obliged to take off this supposed magic circle. We may imagine the effect produced on such an auditory, when they found that after the ring was taken off, the music was not the less beautiful, Wolfgang gave a second grand concert, at the house of prince Kaunitz, the emperor's ambassador, and afterwards return- ed to Rome, The pope desired to see him, and conferred on him the cross and brevet of a knight of the Golden Militia (auratce Mili- ii(e Exiues). At Bologna, he was nominated. % 365 unanimously, member and master of the Phil- harmonic Academy. He was shut up alone, agreeably to usage, and in less than half an hour he composed an antiphony for four voices. Mozart's father hastened his return to Mi- lan, that he might attend to the opera which he had undertaken. The time was advanc- ing, and they did not reach that city till the close of October, 1770, Had it not been for this engagement, Mozart might have obtain- ed what is considered in Italy the first mu- sical honour, — the composition of a serious opera for the theatre of Rome. On the 26th of December, the first repre- sentation of the Mithridates took place, at Milan. This opera, composed by Mozart, at the age of fourteen, was performed twenty nights in succession ; a circumstance which sufficiently indicates its success. The ma- nager immediately entered into a written agreement with him for the composition of the first opera for the year 1773. Mozart left Milan, which resounded with his fame, to pass the last days of the carnival at Venice, in 2 366 company >vith his father. At Verona, which he only passed through, he was presented with a diploma, constituting him a member of the Philharmonic Society of that city. Wherever he went in Italy, he met with the most distinguished reception, and was gene- rally known by the name of The Philharmonic Knight : // Cavaliere Filarmonico. <^:i»Wh.en Mozart returned with his father to Salzburg, in March, 1771, he found a letter from count Firmian, of Milan, who commanded him, in the name of the empress Maria Theresa, to compose a dramatic cantata on occasion of the marriage of the arch-duke Ferdinand. The empress had chosen the celebrated Hasse, as the oldest professor, to write the opera, and she was desirous that the youngest composer should undertake the cantata, the subject of ^which was Ascanius in Alba. He undertook the work, and in the month of August, set out for Milan, where, during the solemnities of the marriage, the opera and the serenade were performed alternately. In 1772,* he composed for the election of the new archbishop of Salzburg, the cantata 367 entitled // sogno di Scipione ; and at Milan, where he passed the winter of the year follow- ingj he wrote Lucio Silla, a serious opera^ which had twenty-six successive representations. In the spring of 1178, Mozart returned to Salz- burg, and during some excursions which he made in the course of this year to Vienna and Munich, he produced various compositions of merit, as. La Finta Giardiniera, an opera buffa, two grand masses for the elector of Ba- varia's chapel, &c. In 1775, the archduke Maximilian spent some- time at Salzburg, and it was on this occasion that Mozart composed the cantata entitled II Re Pastore. The early part of the life of Mozart is the most extraordinary : the details of it may in- terest the philosopher, as well as the artist. We shall be more concise in our account of the remainder of his too short career. 368 CHAPTER III. Arrived at the a^e of nineteen^ Mozart might flatter himself that lie had attained the summit of his art, since of this he was re- peatedly assured, wherever he went ; — from London to Naples. As far as retjarded the advancement of his fortune, he was at liberty to choose among all the capitals of Europe. Experience had taught him that he might every where reckon on* general admiration. His father thought that Paris would suit him best, and accordingly, in the month of Sep- tember, 1777, he set out for that capital, accompanied by his mother only. It would have been, unquestionably, very advantageous to him to have settled there, but the French music, of that time, did not accord with his taste; and the preference shewn for vocal performances would have given him little opportunity of employing himself in the instrumental department. He 369 had also the misfortune to lose his mother in the year after his arrival. From that time, Paris became insupportable to him. After having composed a symphony for the Concert spirituely and a few other pieces^ he hastened to rejoin his father in the beginning of 1779. In the month of November, of the year following, he repaired to Vienna, whither he had been summoned by his soyereign, the archbishop of Salzburg. He was then in his twenty-fourth year. The habits of Vienna were very agreeable to him, and the beauty of its fair inhabitants, it appears, still more so. There he fixed himself, and nothing could ever prevail upon him afterwards to leave it. The empire of the passions hav- ing commenced in this being, so exqui- sitely sensible to his art, he soon became the favourite composer of his age, and gave the first example of a remarkable child becoming a great man.* * Mozart composed the music of the opera of Ideme- neus under the most favourable circumstances. The 2b 370 To give a particular analysis of each of i\Io/art's works would be too loiij^^ and too ditlicuU ; an amateur ought to know them all. Most of his operas were composed at Vienna, and had the greatest success, but noue of them was a greater favourite than the Zauber Flote, which was performed one hundred times in less than a year. elector of Bavaiia, who liad alw;iY> sliewu liim distin- guished favour, reqiie'sto:trat>rdinary rapidity ; the execution of his left hand, especially, was greatly admired. As early as the year 1785, Haydn said to Mozart's father, who was then at Vienna: '' I declare to you, before God, and on my honour, that I regard your son as the greatest composer I ever heard of.'' Such was Mozart in music. To those acquainted with human nature, it will not appear surprising, that a man, whose talents in this department were the object of g6nera,l tidmiration, should rrot appear to equal ad- vantajre in the other situations of life. Mozart possessed no advantages of person, though his parents were noted for their beauty. Cabanis remarks, that " Sensibility may be compared to a fluid, the total quantity of which is determined ; and which, whenever it flows more abundantly in any one channel, is proportionally diminished in the others." 'Mozart never reached his natural growth. During his whole life, his health was delicate. He was thin and pale : and though the form of his face was unusual, there was nothing 375 striking in his physiognomy, but its extreme variableness. The expression of his counte- nance changed every moment, but indicated nothing more than the pleasure or pain which he experienced at the instant. He was re- markable for a habit, which is usually the attendant of stupidity. His body was per- petually in motion ; he was either playing with his hands, or beating the ground with his foot. There was nothing extraordinary in his other habits, except his extreme fond- ness for the game of billiards. He had a table in his house, on which he played every day by himself^ when he had not any one to play with. His hands were so habituated to the piano, that he was rather clumsy in every thing beside. At table, he never carved, or if he attempted to do so, it was with much awkwardness, and difficulty. His wife usually undertook that office. The same man, who, from his earliest age, had shewn the greatest expansion of mind in what related to his art, in other respects re- mained always a child. He never knew how properly to conduct himself. The manage- 2b4 376 ment of domestic aft'airs, the proper use of money, the judicious selection of his plea- sures, and temperance in the enjoyment of them, were never virtues to his taste. The gratification of the moment was always upper- most with him. His mind was so absorbed by a crowd of ideas, which rendered him inca- pable of all serious reflection, that, during- his whole life, he stood in need of a guardian to take care of his temporal affairs. His father was well aware of his weakness in this respect, and it was on this account that he persuaded his wife to follow him to Paris, in 1777, his engagements not allowing him to leave Salz- burg himself. But this man, so absent, so devoted to trifling amusements, appeared a being of a superior order as soon as he sat down to a piano-forte. His mind then took wing, and his whole attention was directed to the sole object for which nature designed him, the harmony of sounds. The most numerous orchestra did not prevent him from observing the slightest false note, and he immediately pointed out, with surprising precision, by 377 what instrument the fault had been com- mittedj and the note which should have been made. When Mozart went to Berlin, he arrived late on the evening. Scarcely had he alighted^, than he asked the waiter of the inn, whether there was any opera that evening. " Yes, the Entfuhrung aus dern Serail"-^" That is charming !" He immediately set out for the theatre, and placed himself at the entrance of the pit, that he might listen without being observed. But, sometimes, he was so pleased with the execution of certain passages, and at others, so dissatisfied with the manner, or the time, in which they were performed, or with the embellishments added by the actors, that, continually expressing either his plea- sure, or disapprobation, he insensibly got up to the bar of the orchestra. The manager had taken the liberty of making some altera- tions in one of the airs. When they came to it, Mozart, unable to restrain himself any longer, called out, almost aloud, to the or- chestra, in what way it ought to be played. Every body turned to look at the man in a SIS great coat, who was making- all this noise. Some persons recognised Mozart, and, in an instant, the musicians and actors were in- formed that he was in the theatre. Some of them, and amongst the number a very good female singer, were so agitated at the in- telligence, that they refused to come again upon the stage. The manager informed Mo- zart of the embarrassment he was in. He immediately went behind the scenes, and succeeded, by the compliments which he paid to the actors, in prevailing upon them to go on with the piece. Music was hjs constant employment, and bis most gratified recreation. Never, even in his earliest childhood, was persuasion re- quired to engage him to go to his piano. On ,tbe contrary, it was necessary to take care that he did not injure his health by his application. He was particularly fond of playing in the night. If he sat down to the instrument at nine o'clock in the even- ing, he never left it before midnight, and even then it was necessary to force him away from it, for he would have continued to modu- 379 late, and play voluntaries, the whole night. In his general habits he was the gentlest of men, but the least noise during the perform- ance of music offended him violently. He was far above that affected or mis-placed mo- desty, which prevents many performers from playing till they have been repeatedly en- treated. The nobility of Vienna often re- proached him with playing, with equal inte- rest, before any persons that took pleasure in hearing him. ,^80 CHAPTER IV. An amateur^ in a town through which Mozart passed in one of his journies, assem- bled a lartre party of his friends, to give them an opportunity of hearing this celebrated mu- sician. Mozart came, agreeably to his en- gagement, said very little, and sat down to the piano-forte. Thinking that none but connoisseurs were present, he began a slow movement, the harmony of which was sweet, but extremely simple, intending by it to pre- pare his auditors for the sentiment which he designed to introduce afterwards. The com- pany thought all this very common-place. The style soon became more lively ; they thought it pretty enough. It became severe, and solemn, of a striking, elevated, and more difficult harmony. Some of the ladies began to think it quite tiresome, and to whisper a lew criticisms to one another : soon, half the party were talking. The master of the house 6 381 was upon thorns, and Mozart himself, at last perceived how little his audience were affected by the music. He did not abandon the prin- cipal idea with which he commenced, but he developed it with all the fire of which he was capable ; still he was not attended to. With- out leaving off playing, he began to remon- strate rather sharply with his audience, but as he fortunately expressed himself in Italian, scarcely any body understood him. They be- came however more quiet. When his anger was a little abated, he could not himself forbear laughing at his impetuosity. He gave a more common turn to his ideas, and concluded with playing a well known air, of which he gave ten or twelve charming variations. The whole room was delighted, and very few of the com- pany were at all aware of what had passed. Mozart, however, soon took leave, inviting the master of the house, and a few connois- seurs, to spend the evening with him at his inn. He detained them to supper, and upon their intimating a wish to hear him play, he sat down to the instrument, where, to 382 their great astonishment, he forgot himself till after midnight. An old harpsichord tuner came to put some strings to his travelling piano-forte. " Well, my good old fellow", says Mozart to him, " what do I owe you ? I leave to- morrow." The poor man, regarding him as a sort of deity, replied, stammering and con- founded, '' Imperial Majesty 1 Mr. the maitre de chapelle of his imperial majesty ! . . . I cannot ... It is true that I have waited upon you several times You shall give me a crown." — "A crown !" replied Mozart, '^'^a wor- thy fellow, like you, ought not to be put out of his way for a crown ;" and he gave him some ducats. The honest man, as he with- drew, continued to repeat, with low bows, " Ah ! Imperial Majesty !" Of his operas, he esteemed most highly the Idomeneus, and Don Juan. He was not fond of talking of his own works ; or if he mentioned tliem, it was in few words. Of Don Juan he said one day, " This opera was Hot composed for the public of Vienna, it is 383 better suited to Prague ; but, to say the truthj I wrote it only ifor myself, and my friends." The time which he most willingly em- ployed in composition, was the morning, from six or seven o'clock till ten, when he got up. After this, he did no more for the rest of the day, unless he had to finish a piece that was- wanted. He always w^orked very irregularly. When an idea struck him, he was not to be drawn from' it. If he was taken fi'om the piano-forte, he continued to compose in the midst of his friends, and passed whole nights with his pen in his hand. At other times, he had such a disinclination to work, that he could not complete a piece till the mo- ment of its performance. It 6hce happened, that he put off some music which he had en- gaged to furnish for a court concert, so long, that he had not time to write out the part which he was to perform himself. The em- peror Joseph, who was peeping every where, happening to cast his eyes on the sheet which Mozart seemed to be playing from, 6 384 was surprised to see nothing but empty lines> and said to him : " Where's your part ?" — " Here/' replied Mozart, putting his hand to his forehead. The same circumstance nearly occurred with respect to the overture of Don Juan. It is generally esteemed the best of his over- tures ; yet it was only composed the night previous to the first representation, after the general rehearsal had taken place. About eleven o'clock in the evening, when he re- tired to his apartment, he desired his wife to make him some punch, and to stay with him, in order to keep him awake. She accord- ingly began to tell him fairy tales, and odd stories, which made him laugh till the tears came. The punch, however, made him so drowsy, that he could go on only while his wife was talking, and dropped asleep as soon as she ceased. The efforts which he made to keep himself awake, the continual alter- nation of sleep and watching, so fatigued him, that his wife persuaded him to take some rest, promising to awake him in an 385 hour's time. He slept so profoimdlyj that she suffered him to repose for two hours. At five o'clock in the morning she awoke him. He had appointed the music-copiers to come at seven, and by the time they arrived, the overture was finished. They had scarcely time to write out the copies necessary for the orchestra, and the musicians were obliged to play it without a rehearsal. Some persons pretend that they can, discover in this over- ture the passages where Mozart dropped asleep, and those where he suddenly awoke again. Don Juan had no great success at Vienna, at first. A short time after the first repre- sentation, it was talked of in a large party, at which most of the connoisseurs of the ca- pital and amongst others Haydn, were pre- sent. Mozart was not there. Every body agreed that it was a very meritorious per- formance, brilliant in imagination, and rich in genius ; but every one had also some fault to find with it. All had spoken, except the modest Haydn. His opinion was asked. '' I 386 am not/' said he_, with his accustomed cau- tioiij " a proper judge of the dispute : all that I know is, that Mozart is the greatest composer now existing." The subject was then changed. Mozart, on liis part^ had also a great re- gard for Haydn. He has dedicated to him a set of quartetts, which may be classed with the best productions of the kind. A pro- fessor of Vienna, who was not without merit, though far inferior to Haydn, took a mali- cious pleasure in searching the compositions of the latter, for all the little inaccuracies which might have crept into them. He often came to shew Mozart symphonies, or quar- tetts, of Haydn's, \\hich he had put into score, and in which he had, by this means, discovered some inadvertencies of style. Mozart always endeavoured to change the subject of con- versation : at last, unable any longer to re- strain himself, '' Sir," said he to him, sharply, " if you and 1 were both melted down toge- ther, we should not furnish materials for one Haydn." 387 A painter^ who was desirous of flattering Cimarosa^ said to him once, that he consi- dered him superior to Mozart. '' I, Sir/' re- plied he smartly ; '' what would you say to a person who should assure you that you were superior to Raphael ?" 2c% 388 CHAPTER V Mozart judged his own works with impar- tiality, and often, with a severity, which he woiihl not easily have allowed in another person. The em jeror Joseph II. was fond of Mozart, and had appointed him his maitre de chapello ; but this prince pretended to be a dilcitante. His travels in Italy had given him a partiality for the music of that coun- try, and the Italians who were at his court did not fail to keep up this preference, which, I must confess, appears to me to be well founded. These men spoke of Mozart's first essays with more jealousy than fairness, and the einperor, who scarcely ever judged for him- self^ was easily carried away by their deci- sions. One day, after hearing the rehearsal of a comic opera (die Entfuhrung aus dem 389 SeraiL) which he had himself demanded of Mozart, he said to the composer : '' My dear Mozart, that is too fine for my ears ; there are too many notes there/' — '' I ask your ma- jesty's pardon," replied Mozart, dryly; '' there are just as many notes as there should be." The emperor said nothing, and appeared rather embarrassed by the reply ; but when the opera was performed, he bestowed on it the greatest encomiums. Mozart was himself less satisfied with this piece afterwards, and made many corrections and retrenchments in it. He said, in playing on the piano-forte one of the airs which had been most applauded ; " This is very well for the parlour, but it is too verbose for the theatre. At the time I composed this opera, I took delight in what I was doing, and thought nothing too long.'* Mozart was not at all selfish ; on the con- trary, liberality formed the principal feature of his character. He often gave without dis- crimination, and, still more frequently, ex- pended his money without discretion. 2c3 390 During one of his visits to Berlin, the king, Frederic William, offered him an appoint- ment of 3,000 crowns a year, if he would remain at his court, and take upon him the direction of his orchestra. Mozart made no other reply than '' Shall I leave my good em- peror?" Yet, at that time, Mozart had no fixed establishment at Vienna. One of his friends blaming him afterwards for not having accepted the king of Prussia's proposals, he replied : " I am fond of Vienna, the emperor treats me kindly, and 1 care Little about money." Some vexatious intrigues, which were ex- cited against him at court, occasioned him, nevertheless, to request his dismissal ; but a word from the emperor, who was partial to the composer, and especially to his music, immediately changed his resolution. He had not art enough to take advantage of this favourable moment, to demand a fixed sa- lary ; but the emperor himself, at length, thought of regulating his establishment. Un- fortunately, he consulted on the subject a. 391 man who was not a friend to Mozart. He proposed to give him 800 florins (about 100/.) and this sum was never increased. He re- ceived it as private composer to the empe- ror, but he never did any thins^ in this ca- pacity. He was once required, in conse- quence of one of the general government- orders, frequent at Vienna, to deliver in a statement of the amount of his salary. He wrote, in a sealed note, as follows : '' Too much for what I have done: too little for what I could have done." The music-sellers, the managers of the theatres, and others, daily took advantage of his well-known disinterestedness. He never received any thing for the greater part of his compositions for the piano. He wrote them to oblige persons of his acquaintance, who expressed a wish to possess something in his own writing for their private use. In these cases he was obliged to conform to the de- gree of proficiency which those persons had attained ; and this explains why many of his compositions for the harpsichord appear un- 2c4 392 worthy of him. Artaria, a music-seller^ at Vienna^ and others of his brethren^ found means to procure copies of these pieces, and published them without the permission of the author ; or, at any rate, without making him any pecuniary acknowledgment. 393 LETTER VI. One day^ the manager of a theatre^ whose affairs were in a bad state^ and who was al- most reduced to despair^, came to Mozart, and made known his situation to him, adding, " You are the only man in the world who can relieve me from my embarrassment." — '' \," replied Mozart, '' how can that be ?" — " By composing for me an opera to suit the taste of the description of people who attend my theatre. To a certain point you may consult that of the connoisseurs, and your own glory ; but have a particular regard to that class of persons who are not judges of good music. I will take care that you shall have the poem shortly, and that the decorations shall be handsome ; in a word, that every thing shall be agreeable to the present mode." Mozart, touched by the poor fellow's entreaties, pro- mised to undertake the business for him. '' What remuneration do you require ?" asked .191 the manao'er. '' Why, it seems that you have nothing to give me," said Mozart, " but that you may extricate yourself from your embar- rassments, and that, at the same time, I may not altogether lose my labour, we will ar- range the matter thus : — You shall have the score, and give me what you please for it, on condition that you will not allow any copies to be taken. If the opera succeeds, 1 will dispose of it in another quarter." The ma- nager, enchanted with this generosity, was profuse in his promises. Mozart immediately set about the music, and composed it agree- ably to the instructions given him. The opera was performed ; the house was always filled ; it was talked of all over Germany, and was performed, a short time afterwards, on five or six dift'erent theatres, none of which had obtained their copies from the distressed manager. On other occasions, he met only with ingra- titude from those to whom he had rendered service, but nothing could extinguish his com- passion for the unfortunate. Whenever any distressed artists, who were strangers to Vi- 395 enna^ applied to him, in passing through the cit), iie oHered them the use of his house and table, introduced them to the acquaint- ance of those persons whom he thought most likely to be of use to them, and seldom let them depart without writing for them concertos, of which he did not even keep a copy, in order that being the only persons to play them^ they might exhibit themselves to more ad- vantage. Mozart often gave concerts at his house on Sundays. A Polish count, who was in- troduced on one of these occasions, wa& delighted, as well as the rest of the company, with a piece of music for five instruments, which was performed for the first time. He expressed to Mozart how much he had been gratified by it, and requested that, when he was at leisure, he would compose for him a trio for the Hute. Mozart promised to do so, on condition that it should be at his own time. The count, on his return home, sent the composer 100 gold demi-sovereigns, (about lOOZ.) with a very polite note, in which he thanked him for the pleasure he had 2 396 enjoyed. Mozart sent him the orio^inal score of the piece for five instruments, which had appeared to please him. The count left Vi- enna. A year afterwards he called again upon Mozartj and enquired about his trio. " Sir," replied the composer, " I have never felt myself in a disposition to write any thin«^ that I should esteem worthy of your accept- ance." — '*^ Probably," replied the count, ''you will not feel more disposed to return me the lOOdemi-sovereigns, which I paid you before- hand for the piece." Mozart, indignant, im- mediately returned him his sovereigns; but the count said nothing about the original score of the piece for five instruments ; and it was soon afterwards published by Artaria, as a quatuor for the harpsichord, with an ac- companiment for the violin, alto, and vio- loncello. It has been remarked, that Mozart very readily acquired new habits. The health of his wife, whom he always passionately loved, was very delicate. During a long illness which she had, he always met those who came to see her, with his finger on his lips. 397 as an intimation to them not to make a noise. His wife recovered^ but^ for a long time afterwards, he always went to meet those who came to visit him with his finger on his lips, and speaking in a subdued tone of voice. In the course of this illness, he occasion- ally took a ride on horseback, early in the morning, but, before he went, he was always careful to lay a paper near his wife, in the form of a physician's prescription. The fol- lowing is a copy of one of these : " Good morning, my love, I hope you have slept well, and that nothing has disturbed you : be careful not to take cold, or to hurt yourself in stooping : do not vex yourself with the ser- vants : avoid every thing that would be un- pleasant to you, till I return : take good care of yourself : I shall return at nine o'clock." Constance Weber was an excellent com- panion for Mozart, and often gave him use- ful advice. She bore him two children, whom he tenderly loved. His income was consi- derable, but his immoderate love of pleasure. 398 and the disoi'der of his aftkirs^ prevented him from bequeathing' any thin*^ to his family, except the celebrity of his narne^ and the at; tention of the public. After the death of this great composer, the inhabitants of Vienna testified to his children, their gratitude for the pleasure Tvliich their father had so often af- forded them. During the last years of Mozart's life, his health, which had always been delicate, de- clined rapidly. Like all persons of imagin- ation, he was timidly apprehensive of future evils, and the idea that he had not long to live, often distressed him. At these times, he worked with such rapidity, and unremitting- attention, that he sometimes forgot every thinff that did not relate to his art. Fre- quently, in the height of his enthusiasm, his strength failed him, he fainted, and was obliged to be carried to his bed. Every one saw that he was ruining his health by this immoderate application. His wife, and his friends, did all they could to divert him. Out of complaisance, he accompanied them 399 in the walks and visits to which they took him, but his thoughts were always absent. He was only occasionally roused from this silent and habitual melancholy, by the pre- sentiment of his approaching- end, an idea which always awakened in him fresh terror. His insanity was similar to that of Tasso, and to that which rendered Rousseau so happy in the valley of Charmettes, by leading him^ through the fear of approaching death, to the only true philosophy, the enjoyment of the present moment and the forgetting of sorrow. Perhaps, without that high state of nervous sensibility which borders orv insanity, there is no superior genius in the arts which require tenderness of feeling. His wife, uneasy at these singular habits, invited to the house those persons whom he was most fond of seeing, and who pretended to surprise him, at times when^ after many hours' application, he ought naturally to have thought of resting. Their visits pleased him, but he did not lay aside his pen ; they talked, and endeavoured to engage him in the con- 400 versation, but he took no interest in it ; they addressed themselves particularly to him, he uttered a few inconsequential words, and went on with his writing. This extreme application, it may be ob- served, sometimes accompanies genius, but is by no means a proof of it. Who can read Thomas's emphatic collection of superlatives ? Yet this writer was so absorbed in his medi- tations on the means of being eloquent, that once, at Montmorency, when his footman brought him the horse on which he usually rode out, he offered the animal a pinch of snuff. Raphael Mengs also, in the present age, was remarkable for absence, yet he is only a painter of the third order; while Guido, who was always at the gaming table, and who, towards the conclusion of his life, painted as many as three pictures in a day, to pay the debts of the night, has left behind him works, the least valuable of which is more pleasing than the best of Mengs, or of Carlo Ma- ratti, both of them men of great applica- tion. 401 A lady once said to me, " Mr. tells me that I shall reign for ever in his heart, — that I shall be sole mistress of it. Assu- redly I believe him^ but what signifies it, if his heart itself does not please me ?" Of what use is the application of a man without genius } Mozart has been, in the eighteeuth century, perhaps the most striking example of the union of the two. Benda, the author of Ariadne in the isle of Naxos, has also longf fits of absence. 2d 40? CHAPTER VII. It was in this state of mind that he com- posed the dauber Fldte, the Clemenza di Tito, the Requiem, and some other pieces of less celebrity. It was while he was writing the music of the first of these operas^ that he was seized with the fainting fits we have men- tioned. He was very partial to the Zauber FlotC;, though he was not quite satisfied with some parts of it, to which the public had taken a fancy^ and which were incessantly applauded. This opera was performed many times, but the weak state in which Mozart then was, did not permit him to direct the orchestra, except during nine or ten of the first representations. When he was no longer able to attend the theatre, he used to place his watch by his side, and seemed to follow the orchestra in his thoughts. " Now the first act is over/' he would say — ■" now they are singing such an air," &c ; then, the idea would 2 403 strike him afresh, that he must soon bid adieu to all this for ever. The effect of this fatal tendency of mind was accelerated by a very singular circum- stance. I beg leave to be permitted to relate it in detail, because we are indebted to it for the famous Requiem, which is justly con- sidered one of Mozart's best productions.* * This great work is a solemn mass in D minor for the burial of the dead, hung round with the funereal pomp and imagery which the forebodings of the author inspired. At its opening, the ear is accosted by the mournful notes of the Corni di hassetto, minghng with the bassoons in a strain of bewailing harmony, which streams with impres- sive effect amidst the short sorrowful notes of the accom- panying orchestra. , The Dies irae follows in a movement full of terror and dismay. The Tuha mirum, is opened by the sonorous tromboni, to awaken the sleeping dead. Every one ac- quainted with the powers of this instrument acknowledges the superiority of its tones for the expression of this sub- lime idea. Rex tremendae Majestalis, is a magnificent display of regal grandeur, of which none but a Mozart would have dared to sketch the outline. It is followed by the beau- tiful movement Recordare, which supplicates m the softest inflexions. The persuasive tone of the Corni di bassetto is again introduced with unexampled effect. 2d 2 404 One day, when he was plnnged in a pro- found reverie, he heard a carriage stop at his door. A stranger was announced, who requested to speak to him. A person was in- troduced, handsomely dressed, of dignified, and impressive manners. " I have been com- missioned. Sir, by a man of considerable im- portance, to call upon you." — '' Who is he }" interrupted Mozart. — " He does not wish to be known" — '' Well, what does he want ?" — '*^He has just lost a person whom he tenderly loved, and whose memory will be eternally dear to him. He is desirous of annually com- memorating this mournful event by a solemn service, for which he requests you to compose a Requiem." Mozart was forcibly struck by this discourse, by the grave manner in which It is too evident where the pen of our author was arrested; and this wonderful performance is very ab- surdly finished by repeating some of the early parts of the work to words of a very contrary import. Tht Lux aterna, is a suject worthy of the pen of Beethoven, and it is to be hoped he will yet finish this magnificent work, in a style worthy of its great projector. G. 405 it was uttered, and by the air of mystery in which the whole was involved. He ensraffed to write the Requiem. The stranger conti- nuedj '' Employ all your genius on this work ; it is destined for a connoisseur." — '' So much the better/' — '' What time do you require?" — " A month." — " Very well : in a month's time I shall return. — What price do you set oa your work ?" — '' A hundred ducats." The stranger counted them on the table, and dis- appeared. Mozart remained lost in thought for some time ; he then suddenly called for pen, ink, and paper, and, in spite of his wife's entrea- ties, began to write. This rage for composi- tion continued several days ; he wrote day and night, with an ardour which seemed con- tinually to increase ; but his constitution, al- ready in a state of great debility, was unable to support this enthusiasm : one morning, he fell senseless, and was obliged to suspend his work. Two or three days after, when his wife souirht to divert his mind from the gloomy presages which occupied it, he said to her abruptly : '' It is certain that I am 2d 3 406 writing this Requiem for myself; it will serve for my funeral service." Nothing could re^ move this impression from his mind. As he went on, he felt his strength dimi- nish from day to day, and the score advanced slowly. The month which he had fixed, being expired, the stranger again made his appearance. " 1 have found it impossible," said IMozart, '' to keep my word" — '' Do not give yourself any uneasiness," replied the stranger ; " what further time do yon require ?" — " Another month. The work has inte- rested me more than I expected, and I have extended it much beyond what I at first de- signed." — " In that case, it is but just to increase the premium ; here are fifty ducats more." — '^Sir," said Mozart, with increasing astonishment, ''who, then, are you.?" — "That is nothing to the pjirpose ; in a month's time I shall return." Mozart immediately called one of his ser- vants, and ordered him to follow this extra- ordinary personage, and find out who he was ; but the man failed for want of skill, and returned without being able to trace him. 407 Poor Mozart was then persuaded that he was no ordinary being : that he had a con- nection with the other world, and was sent to announce to him his approaching end. He applied himself with the more ardour to his Requiem, which he regarded as the most dura- ble monument of his genius. While thus em- ployedj he was seized with the most alarm- ing fainting fits, but the work was at length completed before the expiration of the month. At the time appointed, the stranger returned, but Mozart was no more. His career was as brilliant as it was short. He died before he had completed his thirty- sixth year ; but in this short space of time he has. acquired a name which will never perish, so long as feeling hearts are to be found. 2 D 4 40S Monticello, August 29, 1814. My dear Friend, It appears that the only works of Mozart known at Paris, are Figaro, Don Juan, and Cost fan tutte, which have been performed at the Odeon. The first reflection which offers itself on Figaro, is that the sensibility of the musician, has led him to convert into serious passions, the transient inclinations which, in the piece of Beaumarchais, amuse the agreeable inha- bitants of the chateau of Aguas-Frescas. In the latter, count Almaviva has a fancy for Susanna — nothing more ; and is far from feeling the passion which breathes in the air, Vedr6 mentr'io sospiro Felice uu seryo mio f 409 And in the duet Crudel ! perche finora 1 we certainly do not recognise the man who says, in act iii^ scene 4:, of the French play^ " How is it that I am so taken with this whim ? I have been on the point of abandoning it twenty times over. — Strange effect of irresolu- tion ! if I was determined to have her, I should be a thousand times less desirous of her." How was it possible for the musician to give this idea^ which, nevertheless, is very natural? How can a man fee witty in music ? We feel, in the comedy, that the inclination of Rosina for the little page might become serious. But the state of her feelings, her reflections on the scanty portion of felicity allotted us by fate, all that agitation of mind which precedes the greater passions, is infi- nitely more developed by Mozart, than by the French author. We have scarcely terms to express this state of mind, which is perhaps better to be described by music, than by words. 410 The airs sung by the countess, therefore^ represent an entirely new character : and the same may be said of that of BartholOj so well marked in the grand air : La Vendetta ! la Vendetta ! The jealousy of Figaro^ in the air, Se vuol ballar, signer Contino, is far removed from the frivolity of the French Figaro. In this sense, it may be said that Mozart has disfigured the piece as much as possible. I am not sure that music could be made to represent French gallantry and trifling, in all the characters through four whole acts ; — it requires decided passions — joy, or sorrow. A smart repartee produces no effect upon the feelings, suggests no subject for meditation. When Cherubino leaps out of the window, '' The rage for leaping may be catching," says Figaro ; " remember the sheep of Panurge." This is delightful ; but if you dwell on it for a moment, the charm disappears.* * The allusion is to a story in Rabelais in which the author ridicules the servility of the courtiers. Panurge, 411 I should like to see the '' Noces de Figaro/' set to music by Fioravanti. In Mozart, the true expression of the French piece is no- where to be found, except it be in the duet Se a caso raadania, between Susanna and Figaro ; and even here lie is too much in earnest when he says : Udir brarao il resto. Lastly, to complete the transformation, Mozart concludes the Folle Journee with the finest church chant that it is possible to hear; — that which follows the word " Perdono/' in the last finale. He has entirely changed the picture of Beaumarchais. The wit of the original is preserved only in the situations ; all the cha- racters are altered to the tender and impas- sioned. The page is only just sketched in king of the Isle of Lanterns, has a flock of sheep, which,on seeing him dance, begin all to do the same, pai' cour- toisie* T. 412 the French piece ; his whole soul is displayed in the airs^ Noil so piu cosa sou, Voi che sapete cosa e amore ; and in the duet with the countess, at the con- clusion, when they meet in the dark walks of the garden, near the grove of chesnut- trees. The opera of Mozart is a sublime combi- nation of spirit, and melancholy, of which we have no other example. The delineation of sad and tender sentiments is liable to be- come tiresome : but here, the brilliant wit of the French author, which appears in all the situations, effectually prevents the only defect which was in danjjer of occurring. To be in the spirit of the original, the music should have been written conjointly by Cimarosa and Paesiello, Cimarosa only could have imparted to Figaro the brilliant gaiety and confidence which belongs to him. Nothing can be more completely in this character than the air, Mentr 'io era un frascheton* Sono stato il piii felice ; 413 which it must be confessed is feebly given in the only gay air of Mozart's piece : Non piii andrai farfallone amoroso. The melody of this air is even rather common- place ; it is the expression which it gradually assumes that constitutes its whole charm. As for Paesiello, we need only bring to mind the quintetto in the Barbiere di Siviglia, where he says to Basil, Andate a letto, to be convinced that he was exactly fitted to depict situations purely comic, and in which there is no warmth of sentiment. As a work of pure tenderness and melan- choly, entirely free from all unsuitable ad- mixture of the majestic and tragical, nothing in the world can be compared to the Nozze di Figaro. I have pleasure in imagining this opera to be performed by one of the Monbelli as the Countess, Bassi as Figaro, Davidde or Nozzari as Count Almaviva, Madame Ga- forini as Susanna, the other Monbelli as the Little Page, and Pellegrini as Doctor Bartholo. 2 414 If you were acquainted with these delight- ful voices, you would share the pleasure of this idea with me; but, in music, we can only talk to people of their recollections. I mi«'ht, with a multiplicity of words, su(» ceed in giving you an idea of the Aurora of Guido, in the Rospigliosi palace, though you should never have seen it ; but I should be tedious as a writer of poetical prose, if I were to give you the same detailed account of the Idomeneus, or the Clemenza di Tito, as I have done of Figaro. It may be said, with truth, and without being chargeable with those delusive exag- gerations to which one is perpetually liable, in speaking of a man like Mozart, that, ab- solutely, nothing is comparable to the Ido- meneus. I do not fear to say, contrary to the opinion of all Italy, that to me, the first serious opera extant, is not the Horatii, but the Idomeneus, or the Clemenza di Tito. Majesty, in music, soon becomes tiresome. The art is incompetent fully to give the spirit of Horatius, when he says, Albano tu sei, io non ti conosco pii^ ; 415 and the patriotic feeling which is displayed in the whole of that character^ while tender- ness alone animates those of the Clemenza. What can be more affecting than Titus say- ing to his friendj Confidati airamico : io ti proraetto Che Augusto nol saprk 1 His generous forgiveness at the conclusion, where he says^ Sesto, non piii : tornianio Di nuovo amici, brings tears into the eyes of the most har- dened traitorSj as I have myself witnessed at Kbnigsberg, after the terrible retreat from Moscow. On our re-entering the civilized worldj we found the Clemenza di Tito very well got up, in that city, where the Russians had the politeness to give us twenty days rest, of which, in truth, we stood greatly in need. To form any idea of the dauber Fldte, it is absolutely necessary to have seen it. The story, which is like the wandering of a deli* rious imagination, harmonizes divinely with 416 the genius of the musician. I am convinced that if Mozart had been a writer, his peu would have been employed in depicting scenes like that where the ue*jro, Mouostatos, conies in the silence of the night, by the light of the moon, to steal a kiss from the lips of the sleeping princess. Chance has produced what the lovers of music never met with, except in Rousseau's Devin du Village. We may say of the Zauher Flote, that the same man wrote both the words and the music. The romantic imaguiation of Don Juan, in which Moliere has drawn so many interest- ing scenes, from the murder of the father of Donna Anna, to the invitation and terrible reply of the speaking statue, is altogether suited to the talent of Mozart. He shines in the awful accompaniment to the reply of the statue — a composition per- fectly free from all inflation or bombast — it is the style of Shakespeare in music. The fear of Leporello, when he excuses himself from speaking to the commander, is painted with true comic spirit : — a thing un- 41'r ufeuai with Mozart, On the other hand, men of feeling carry away a thousand melancholy recollections from this opera. Even at Paris, who does not remember the passage. Ah ! rimembranza aniara ! II padre mio dov' e 1 Don Juan did not succeed at Rome; — perhaps, because the orchestra was unable to execute this very difficult music ; but I doubt not that it will one day be a favourite there. The subject of Cosi fan tutte, was formed for Cimarosa, and is altogether unsuitable to Mozart, who could never trifle with love, a passion that was always the happiness, or the torment, of his life. He has only given the tender part of the characters, and has entirely omitted the drollery of the satirical old sea-captain. He has sometimes escaped by the aid of his sublime science in harmony, as in the trio at the conclusion. Tutte fan cosi. Mozart, philosophically contemplated, is still more astonishing, than when regarded as the author of sublime compositions. Never was 418 the soul of a man of genius exhibited so naked, if we may be allowed the expression. The corporeal part had as little share as possible in that extraordinary union called Mozart. To this day the Italians designate him by the appellation of " quel mostro d'ingegno/' — that prodigy of genius. LETTER ON THE GENIUS OF METASTASIO, Vartse, October 24, 1812. My Friend^ The g^enerality of men have little regard for gracefulness. Vulgar minds esteem only what they fear. Hence arises the universal passion for military glory, and the partiality for tragedy at the theatre. In literature, such persons are most pleased with what appears difficult; and it is the general prevalence of this taste, which has prevented Metastasio from obtaining a reputation more correspondent with his merit. At the Museum, every body understands the Martyrdom of St. Peter by Titian, few feel the St. Jerome of Correggio : 2e2 420 they require to be taught that this beauty, so graceful, is beauty. On this subject, women, who are less habitually swayed by interested considerations, are much better judges than men. The object of music is to give pleasure ; and Metastasio was the poet of music. His natural tenderness of feeling led him to avoid whatever would have given the slightest pain to the spectator. He has abstained from describing poignant distress, even of senti- ment merely. His pieces never terminate tragically ; never do they exhibit the gloomy realities of life, or those chilling suspicions, which infuse their poison into the most tender passions. He was sensible that if the music of his operas was good, it would agreeably divert the mind of the spectator, by leading him to think of what he most loves. He, therefore, continually repeats whatever is necessary to be known of his characters, in order to un- derstand what they are singing. He seems to say to the spectator, " Enjoy yourself, I will not even give you the trouble of attend* 421 in^. Do not concern yourself about the plot of the piece ; forget the theatre altogether. Make yourself happy in your box; give yourself up to the tender sentiment which my hero expresses." His characters retain scarcely any thing of the dull reality of life. He has created a set of beings possessed of a spirit^ and genius^ which men of the most fortunate constitution of mind experience only in some fortunate moments ; — St. Preux en- tering the chamber of Julia.* Your rational people^ who are not offended by the severity of Tacitus, or Alfieri, — who, scarcely sensible to music at all, do not even suspect the object of this charming art ; who, insensible to the thorns which, in real life, pierce the feeling heart at every moment, or what is VForse, re-plunge it in dull reality ; — these people, I say, have, in Metastasio, called that a want of truth, which is, in re- ality, consummate art. It is as if we should censure the sculptor of the Belvedere Apollo, Nouvelle Heloise. 2e 3 423 for having omitted the muscular details, seen in the Gladiator and other statues^ which represent only men: All that can be said is^ that the pleasure arising; from an opera of Metastasio, cannot be felt in the country situated between the Alps^ the Rhine, and the Pyrenees. I can tkncy an intelligent Frenchman^ well acquainted w ith every sub- ject that usually engages the attention of a man of the world, entering the delightful toggle of the Vatican, adorned by Raphael with those charming arabesques, which are, perhaps, the purest and most divine produc- tions ever inspired by genius and love. Our Frenchnian will be ottended with I he want of probability; these cupids riding on chimaeras, these female heads on lions' bodies, will ap- pear absurd to him. There is nothing likq these to be found in nature, he will say, in a dogmatical tone. It is true ; — and it is equally so that you are not capable of enter- ing into the pleasure, mingled, perhaps, with a little folly, which a man born under a hap- pier sky enjoy«, after a burning day, in taking ices in the evening at the villa of Albano. 423 He is in the company of charming women ; the heat of the day has inclined him to a delicious languor. Reclining on a sofa, he traces on a ceiling, resplendent with the richest colours, the charming forms which Raphael has given to these beings, which, as they resemble nothing that we have seen elsewhere, call up none of those common ideas which disturb the felicity of these rare and delightful moments. I am of opinion also, that the gloominess of the Italian theatres, and their boxes, which resemble saloons, greatly aid the effect of music. How many amiable women are there in France, who understand English, to whom the word love has a charm, which the word amour no longer possesses. The reason is, that the word love has never been pro- nounced before them by beings unworthy of feeling the sentiment. Nothing tarnishes the brilliant purity of love, while the couplets of the vaudeville have for ever spoiled the idea of amour. Those who can enter into these distinctions, will admire the arabesques of Raphael, and 3e4 424 the brilliant and un-terrestrial beings which Metastasio has pourtrayed. He banishes,, as far as possible, every thing which would remind us of the melancholy reality of life. He employs the passions only so far as they are necessary to interest us : nothing is stern, or harsh ; his vei'y dignity is voluptuous. Music, in which he delighted, and for which he always wrote, though so powerful in expressing the passions, is incapable of delineating character. Accordingly, in the verses of Metastasio, the Roman, mid the Persian, touched by the same passion, speak the same language, because they will do so in the music of Cimarosa. In like manner, the virtues of patriotism, devoted friendship, filial love, chivalrous honour, which are all to be found in history, or society, acquire with him an additional charm ; we feel our- selves transported into the land of Mahomet's liouris. These ideal pieces, which in fact ought not to be read, but only heard with music^ the ^^^ ' -'i^LCS of a certain nation have ex- 425 ^milled as tragedies. These wise-acres, like their illustrious Italian predecessor Crescim- beni^ who^ in his " Course of Literature/' has taken the Morgante maggiore, a poem of the lowest buffoonery^ or even something more^ for a serious work ; — these poor gentlemen, . who ought to have followed some more sub- stantial employment, have not even been aware that Metastasio was so far from seek- ing to inspire terror, that he even refrained from depicting what was merely odious. On this account, he ought to be patronized by every government desirous of encouraging a Jaste for pleasure among its subjects. To suppose that things might be managed bet- ter; to find fault with the existing state of affairs — how shocking ! — how unpolite ! — would you render us distrustful, and mise- rable ? The poor critics aforesaid, have been mightily offended at Metastasio's frequent transgression of the rule concerning unity of place. They could not imagine that the Italian poet, so far from being desirous of observing this rule^ had laid down one for 6 426 liimself^ directly contrary, which was, to change the scene as frequently as possible, that the splendour of the decorations, which in Italy are very beautiful, might give new pleasure to the gratified spectator. Metastasio, in transporting us, for our gra- tification, so far from real life, was under the necessity, in order that his characters might be interesting from their resemblance to our- selves, of observing nature scrupulously in the details. In this respect he has rivalled Shakespeare, and Virgil, and far surpassed Racine, and every other poet.* It was, I think, in 1731, that Pergolese went to Rome to write the music of the Olimpiade: which did not succeed. As Rome is, in Italy, the capital of the arts, and the tribunal most competent to sit in judgment on them, this failure greatly distressed him. He returned to Naples, where he composed * The author has here quoted a whole scene from the Olympiad, in support of his assertion, which, as being in- teresting only to the Italian reader, I have omitted, T. 427 some pieces of sacred music. Tn the mean jtime^ his health daily declined ; he had been, for four yearSj afflicted with a spitting of bloody which was insensibly wearing him jawa;y. His friends persuaded him to take a small house at Torre del Greco, a village situ- ated on the sea-shore^ at the foot of Vesu- vius.- It is said, at Naples, that persons la- bouring under complaints of the chest, re- cover, or decline, with peculiar rapidity, in ihat place. Pergolese left the solitary retirement of his cottage once a week, to superintend the performance of the pieces he composed at Naples. He wrote, at Torre del Greco, his famous Stabat Mater, the cantata of Orpheus, and the Salve Regina, which was the last of his works. In the beginning of 1733, his strength being entirely exhausted, he ceased to live, and the gazette which announced his death was the signal of his glory. His operas, so lately neglected, were performed in every theatre of Italy. Rome desired, once more, to see 428 his Olimpiade, which was got up with the greatest magnificence. The greater the in- difference that had been shewn towards this sublime work, during the author's life-time, the more enthusiastically were its beauties ad- mired after his death. In this opera, the chef-d'oeuvre of Italian music for expression, nothing can exceed the scene between Megacles and Aristea. Act. ii. scene 9. Aljin, siam soli, &c. The air Se cerca, se dice, is known by heart all over Italy, and this, perhaps, is the principal reason why the Olim- piade is no longer acted. No manager would venture to give an opera, the principal air of which was already in the recollection of all his audience. In the Olimpiade, music is a language, the expression of which has been added by Per- golese to that of the common language spoken by the characters of Metastasio. But this language of Pergolese, which is capable of conveying the slightest shades of emotion 429 inspired by the passions : — shades which or- dinary language might attempt in vain to de- pict^ loses all its enchantment in a rapid pronunciation. He has, therefore, given the explanation between Megacles and Aristea in simple recitative, and has reserved all the energy of his divine language for the air Se cerca, se dice, which is, perhaps, the most affecting thing he ever wrote. It would have been contrary to the genius of the art to have sung the whole scene. The circumstances which render it a duty in the unhappy Megacles to sacrifice his mistress to his friend, could not well be de- scribed in any kind of air. But though the verses Se cerca, se dice L'araico dov' e 1 L'amico infelice Respond], mori. Ah no! si gran duolo Non darle per me ; Rispondi, ma solo, Piangendo parti. 430 Che abisso di penc ! Lasciare il suo bene, Lasciarlo per sempre, Lasciarlo cosi, * should be declaimed by the first actor in the worlds — with whatever pathos he might pro- nounce them, he could speak them but once. He could paint only one of the thousand ways in which the heart of the unfortunate Me- gacles is torn. Every one has a confused idea of the various and impassioned feelings with which, at the moment of so cruel a separation. O ! should she seek, or ask thee where Thy hapless friend is fled ; Return this answer to the fair : My hapless friend is dead. Yet, ah ! let not such grief torment The tender mourner's breast ; Reply but this : from hence he went. With anguish sore opprest. What deep abyss of woe is mine ! From her I love to part ! And thus for ever to resign The treasure of my heart ! HOOLE. 431 a man would be likely to say to the friend whom lie leaves with a mistress he so passion- ately loves. Ah no ! SI gran duolo Non darle per rae ; Rispondi, ma solo, Piangendo parti. The unhappy lover will pronounce these verses^ at one time, with extreme emotion^ at another, with resignation and courage : now, with a faint hope of better fortune, and again, w ith all the gloom of despair. He will not be able to speak to his friend of the distress in which Aristea will be plung- ed, when she recovers her senses, without thinking of the situation in which he will him- self be placed, in a few moments ; accord^ infflv, the words Ah no ! sj[ gran duolo Non darle per me, are repeated five or six times by Pergolese, and each time with a different expression. It is impossible for human sensibility to surpass the picture which this great composer has 432 given of the situation of Megacles. We feel ihat such a scene could not long be endured. The music would exhaust both the actor and the spectator ; and this, my friend, will ac- count for the extasy with which a well-sung air is applauded in Italy. A fine singer con- fers on them the greatest of benefits ; he gives to a whole theatre a divine pleasure, of which the least negligence, or want of feeling on his part, would have deprived them. Never, perhaps, did one man give greater pleasure to another than Marchesi, in singing the rondo in the Achille in Piro^ of Sarti. Mia speranza ! io pur vorrci. This happiness is not merely imaginary ; it is matter of history. To find its equal, we must go out of real life; we must look into romance : we must represent to ourselves the baron d' £tange, taking St. Preux by the hand, and bestowing on him his daughter.* Thus it appears, that with seven or eight short verses, with which the poet has supplied * Nouvelle Heloise. 433 the musician, after having introduced an in- teresting scene, the latter is able to melt a whole audience. He will express, not only the principal passion of the character, but others, also, of the various emotions with which his heart is agitated in speaking to her whom he loves. Where is the man, who, on parting from the woman he adores, does not say, over and over, adieu, adieu. It is the same word which he repeats, but where is the being so unfortunate as not to know, from experience, that, every time, it is pronounced in a different manner. In these seasons of pain, or felicity, the heart changes every mo- ment. Now it is clear, that common language, which is nothing more than a series of con- ventional signs to express things generally known, has no term to express certain emo- tions, which perhaps not more than twenty persons, in a thousand, have ever experienced. Persons of feeling were therefore unable to communicate, and to describe their impres- sions. Seven or eight men of genius in Italy discovered, about a century ago, this lan- 2f 4J4 guage so much needed. But it has the de- fect of being uuintcUigible to the nine hun- dred and eighty, who have never felt what it describes. These people ^re in the same situation, with regard to Pergolese, as we should be with respect to a savage Miami, who should describe a tree peculiar to Ame- rica, which grows in the vast forests he tra- verses in huntinfr. We hear nothing; but an unintelligible noise, which would soon tire us, were the savage to prolong his nar- ration. To speak still more plainly. It, when we are yawning, we see symptotus of the most lively pleasure in the person who sits by our side, we shall seek to depress this imperti- nent felicity, in which we have no share; and judging of him, very naturally, by ourselves, we shall deny the reality of the thing, and shall endeavour to turn this pretended rap- ture into ridicule. Nothing, therefore, is more absurd, than discussion about music. We either feel it, or we do not, and this is all. Unfortunately for the interests of sincerity, it ha§ become the 435 fashion to be fond of it. That dry old fellow Diiclos,* on settinjj out for Italy^ at the age of sixty^ thinks himself obliged to tell us that he is passionately fond of music. What an idea ! This language^ then^, for which it is so fashionable to have a liking, is naturally very indefinite. It required a poet to guide our imaginations, and Pergolese, and Cimarosa, have had the good fortune to find a Me- tastasio. This language addresses itself di- rectly to the heart, without passing, so to speak, through the understanding ; it pro- duces, at once, pain, or pleasure. It was, therefore, necessary that the poet of music should preserve the most perfect clearness in the dialogue ; which Metastasio has accord- ingly done. Music increases the ideal beauty of every character which it touches. Beaumarchais * Duclos wrote on various subjects of history, and the belles lettres, and is mentioned with eulogium by Palissot and La Harpe. He died in 1772. T. 2f2 436 has drawn Cherubini in a charming- manner. Mozart, employing a more powerful lan- guage, has put into his mouth the airs Non so pill cosa son Cosa faccio, and Voi che sapele Che cosa e amore ; and has left the French dramatist far behind. The scenes of Moliere enchant the man of taste, but though this great genius has written many things which music cannot reach, it may be questioned whether he has produced any thing equal, in comic eflect, to Cima- rosa's airs Mentre io era un traschetoue, Sono statp il pii> felice ; and Quattro baj e sei raorelli ; Le orepchie spalancate. Observe, that the comic music of Cimarosa produces its effect in spite of the words, which, three times out of four, are the most absurd possible. They, however, almost al- ways possess a decided character of distress^ 437 or happiness, or ridiculous buffoonery, full of spirit and humour, which is precisely what music requires. It is an art, which will not admit of the sentimental refinement of the amiable Marivaux,* I should bring the whole of the Serva maestra of Per«^olese in illus- tration, if it were known at Paris ; but as I am prevented from referring to that delightful music, let me be permitted to quote one of the most agreeable men that France has pro- duced. When the president de Berville was at Bologna, in 1740, he wrote a letter to a friend at Dijon, containing the following pas- sage, which he certainly never supposed would appear in print : " But one of the first, and most important of his duties (speaking of the car- dinal Lambertini, archbishop of Bologna, afterwards pope Benedict XIV.) is to go three times a week to the opera. It is not * The French say of an affected, sentimental style, ** Cest dn Marivaudage," in allusion to the writer here mentioned. T, 2p3 438 performed in the city ; that would be too vulgar, nobody would go to it ; but being at a village, four leagues from Bologna, it is the fashion to be exact. The beaux and belles, from all the neighbouring towns, re- pair thither, in their berlins and four, as to a rendezvous. It is almost the only opera open in Italy at this season. For a country ex- hibition, it is very tolerable. Not that the chorusses, dances, dialogue, or actors, arc supportable ; but the Italian airs are so beau- tiful, that, after hearing them, one desires no- thing more. There are, moreover, a comic actor and actress, who perform a farce be- tween the acts, with such native humour, that nothing can be imagined equal to it. It is not true that a man may die of laughing, other- wise I should certainly have lost my life in that way, in spite of the vexation I felt at it, for preventing me from hearing, as I wished, the celestial music of this farce. It is com- posed by Pergolese. I bought, on the spot, the original score, which I intend to take with me to France. The ladies are quite at their ease at this entertainment, and converse. 439 or to speak more properly, call to the opposite boxes ; they g'et up, and clap their hands^ cry- ing bravo ! bravo! The gentlemen are more moderate. They content themselves^ when an act has pleased them^, with bawling till the piece recommences. At midnight^ when the opera is over, the audience return home in small parties^ or stay to take supper in some snug retreat." In these delightful compositions, whether tragic or comic, the air, and the singing, commence with the display of the passion. As soon as this appears, the musician takes possession of it : whatever is merely prepara- tory is thrown into recitative. When the part of the actor becomes ani- mated, the recitative has an accompaniment, as in the beautiful recitative in the second act of Pyrrhus, which Crivelli sings : L'ombra d' Achilla Mi par di sentire ; or that of Caroline, in the second act of the Matrimonio segreto : Come tacerlo puoi ? $f4 440 When the actor has fully entered into the passion, the air commences. It is singular, that the poet is allowed to be eloquent and explicit only in the recitatives. As soon as the passion shews itself, the mu- sician demands only a small number of words: he charges himself with the expression. If I were to shew my letter to the agree- able society, which I am going to join this evening, at the Madonna del Monte, every body, my dear Louis, would know the touch- ing airs to which 1 refer. How different is it where you are ! O ! foi lunato.s uimiuin, sua si bona norint ! What fools we are to be always finding fault and vexing ourselves — to busy ourselves about f)olitical matters in which we have no concern. Let the emperor of China hang the philoso- phers : let the constitution of Norway be wise or foolish, what is it to us ? How absurd to take upon us the cares of greatness, and only its cares ! The time which you waste in these vain discussions^ is deducted from the sum of 441 your life ; old age is coming on, and your bright days are fleeting away.* Cosi trapassa, al trapassar di uu giorno, Delia vita mortal il fior, e'l verde : Ne perche faccia indietro April ritorno. Si rinfiora ella mai, ne si rinverde. Tasso. So, swiftly fleeting with the transient day. Passes the flower of mortal life away ! In vain the spring returns, the spring no more Can waning youth to former prime restore, HOOLE. * Ergo, says our philosopher, let us enjoy ourselves with the ladies in the parlour. (See page 485.) Amiamo or quando Esser si puote riamato amando. There are persons who infer from the shortness of life that it ought not to be wasted in frivolous pursuits. T. 442 Dante was endowed by nature with a pro- found cast of thought ; Petrarch^ with an agreeable one. She bestowed on Bojardo^ and Ariosto, imagination ; on Tasso dignity ; but none of theni possessed the clearness and precision of Metastasio ; none arrivedj in their department, at the perfection which Me- tastasio has attained in his. DantCj Petrarch, Ariosto, Tasso, have left their successors some possibility of imita- tion. A few men, of distinguished talents, have occasionally written verses which those great men themselves would not perhaps have disavowed. Several of the sonnets of Bembo approach those of Petrarch. Monti, in his Basvigliana: has some terzine worthy of Dante. Bojardo has found in Agostini, if not his equal in ima- gination, at least a successful imitator of his style. 1 could quote some octaves which, for 6 richness^ and felicity of versification, imme- diately remind us of Ariosto. I know a still greater number, the harmony and majesty of which, would perhaps have deceived Tasso himself But notwithstanding the repeated attempts that have been made for near a century, to produce an aria in the style of Metastasio, Italy has not yet seen two verses that could deceive us for a moment. He is the only one of her poets, who, literally speaking, has been hitherto inimitable. How many replies have been written to the Canzoneita a Nice ! Not one of them will bear reading ; and, in my opinion, there exists nothing comparable to it, in any lan- guage, not even in Anacreon, or Horace. The clearness, the precision, the dignified facility which characterize the style of this great poet, — qualities so indispensible in words that are to be sung — have, moreover, the sin- gular effect of rendering his verses extremely easy to retain in the memory. We remem- ber, without effort, this divine poetry, which, though written with the most scrupulous cor- 444 rectness, bears not the slightest marks of constraint. The Canzonetta a Nice pleases the same feelings as are charmed by the small Mag- dalen of Correo^gio, at Dresden, and which has been so well copied by the burin of Longhi. It is difficult to read the Clemenza di Tito, or the Giuseppe, without tears; and Italy possesses few things more sublime than certain passages in the characters of Cleonice, Deme- trius, Themistocles, and Regulus, I know of nothing in any language that can be compared to the cantatas of Metastasio. One is tempted to quote them all. AKieri has surpassed every other poet in pourtraying the heart of a tyrant, because, if he had been possessed of rather less honesty, I think he would, on the throne, have made a sublime tyrant himself The scenes of his Timoleon are very fine ; — I feel them to be so. The manner is totally different from that of Metastasio, but 1 am of opinion that pos- terity will not consider it superior. We think 445 too much of the style in reading Alfieri. The style, which, like a transparent varnish, ought to cover the colours, to heighten their bril- liancy, but not to change them, usurps, in him, a part of our attention. But who thinks of the style in reading Me- tastasio. We are carried away by it. He is the only foreign writer in whom I have found the charm of La Fontaine. The court of Vienna, for fifty years, did not celebrate a birth-day, or a marriage, without requiring a cantata from Metastasio. What subject can possibly be more dry ! With us, the poet is only expected not to be detestable. Metastasio is divine ; abun- dance springs from the bosom of sterility. Observe, my friend, that the operas of Me- tastasio have charmed not only Italy, but all that is intellectual in every court of Europe, merely by the observation of the following simple, and commodious rules. In every drama six characters are required, all lovers, in order that the musician may have the advantage of contrasts. The three principal actors, namely, the primo soprano, 446 the prima donna, and the tenore, must each sing five airs : an impassioned air (aria pate- tica,J a brilliant air (aria di bravura,) a tran- quil air (aria parlante,) an air of a mixed character ; and, lastly, an air which breathes joy (aria hrilliante.) It is requisite that the drama should be divided into three acts^ and not exceed a certain number of verses ; that each scene should terminate with an air ; that the same personage should not sing two airs in succession, and that two airs of the same character should never follow one another. It is necessary that the first and second acts should conclude with the principal airs of the piece. It is required that, in the second and third acts, the poet should reserve two suitable places, one for a recitalivo obiigalo, follow ed by an air for display (aria di tran- husto;) the other for a grand duei^ which must always be sung by the hero and heroine of the piece. Without attending to these rules^ there can be no music. It is further understood^ that the poet must give frequent opportunities for the scene-painter to display his talents. Experience has shewn that these 447 rules^ apparently so singular, and some of which have been laid down by Metastasio himself, cannot be departed from, without injuring the effect of the opera. Finally, this great lyric poet, in producing so many wonders, was not able to make use of more than a seventh part, or thereabouts, of the words of the Italian language. It con- tains about forty-four thousand, according to a modem lexicographer, who has been at the pains of counting them ; and the language of the opera, admits of not more than six or seven thousand, at most. The following is an extract from a letter which Metastasio wrote to a friend, in his old age. "'It happens, for my sins, that the female characters of the Re Pastore have so pleased his majesty, that he has com- manded me to write another piece of the same description for the approaching month of May. In the state in which my poor head is, at present, through the continual tension of my nerves, it is a terrible task to me to have any thing to do with those jades, the muses. But my work is rendered a thousand 448 times more disagreeable by the restrictions of all sorts, which are imposed on me. In the first place, I am prohibited from all Greek or Roman subjects, because our chaste nymphs cannot endure those indecent costumes. I am obliged to have recourse to oriental history, in order that the women, who perform the characters of men, may be duly wrapped up from head to foot in Asiatic drapery. All con- trasts between vice and virtue are of necessity excluded, because no lady will choose to appear in an odious part. I am restricted to five characters, for this substantial reason, given by a certain governor, — that persons of rank ought not to be lost in a crowd. The duration of the performance, the changes of the scene, the airs, almost the number of the words, are fixed. Tell me if this is not enough to drive the most patient man mad ? You may imagine then its effect on me, who am the high-priest of misfortune in this vale of misery." It is a curious circumstance which shews how much chance has to do with every thing, even with the decisions of that posterity, 6 449 which is so often held up to us in terrorem^ that it has been thought a favour to admit such a man as this^ to the rank of the frigid lover of Laura^ who has produced some fifty sweet sonnets.* Metastasio^ who was born at Rome, in 1698, was distinguished, at the early age of ten years, by his talents as an improvvisatore. A rich lawyer, named Gravina, who amused himself with writing bad tragedies, was taken with the boy. He began with changing his name, from Trapassi, to Metastasio, for the love of Greek, He adopted him, gave him a careful, and, as it happened, an excellent, education, and finally left him a part of his property, f * See the opinion expressed by M. Sismondi as to the general character of Petrarch's sonnets. Litterature du Midi. T. II. p. 408. T. t The circumstances which introduced Metastasio to Gravina's notice, are thus related by Carliui. Gravina was \ Iking near the Campus Martius one summer's evening, in company Avith the abbe Lorenzini, when they heard, at no great distance, a sweet and power- 2g 450 Metastasio was twenty-six years old, when his first opera, the Didone, was performed at Naples in 1724. In the composition of it, he was guided by the advice of the fair Mari- anna Romanina, who executed the part of Dido in a superior style, because she passion- ful voice, modulating verses with the greatest fluency to tlie measure of the canto improvviso. On approaching the shop of Trapassi, whence the grateful melody proceeded, they were surprised to see a lovely boy pouring forth elegant verses on the persons and objects which sur- rounded him, and their admiration was increased by the graceful compliments which he took an opportunity of ad- dressing to themselves. When the youthful poet had concluded, Gravina called him to him, aiul with many encomiums and caresses, offered him a piece of money, which the boy politely declined. He then enquired into his situation, and employment, and being struck with the intelligence of his replies, pro- posed to his parents to educate him as his own child. ConviHced of the sincerity of the offer, and flattered by the brilliant j)rospects which it opened for their son, they consented, and Gravina faithfully, and generously, ful- filled the paternal character which he had thus volun- tarily undertaken. Carltni. Vita di Metastasio. T. 451 ately loved the poet. This attachment ap- pears to have been durable. Metastasio was an intimate friend of Marianna's husband, and lived many years in the family^ recreating himself with fine music^ and studying unre- mittingly the Greek poets. In 1729, the emperor Charles VI., that great and grave musician, who, in his youth, had played so miserable a part in Spain, pro- posed to him to be the poet of the opera at Vienna. He hesitated a little, but at length accepted the offer. He never afterwards left that city, where he lived to an extreme old age, in the midst of a delicate and dignified voluptuousness, with no other occupation than that of express- ing, in beautiful verses, the fine sentiments by which he was animated. Dr. Burney, who saw him in his seventy-second year, thought him, even then, the gayest, and handsomest man of his time. He always de- clined accepting any titles or honours, and lived happy in retirement. No tender sen- timent was wanting' to his sensibility. • 2 G 2 452 This great and happy man died on the 2d of April, 1789, having- been acquainted, in the course of his long career, with all the eminent musicians who have delighted the world. ON THE PRESENT STATE OP MUSIC IN ITALY. Venice, August 29, 1814. You still remember^ then^ my friend, the letters which I wrote to you six years ago, from Vienna, and you wish that I would give you a sketch of the present state of music in Italy. The course of my ideas has much changed during this period. I am now richer, and happier, than I was at Vienna ; and the time which I do not pass in society, is en- tirely devoted to the history of painting. You know how much I was rejoiced, on being restored to an income barely sufficient for my support. It seems that my ambition deceived me, for out of this limited revenue, I find means to buy, every day, some precious little picture, which the great collectors have 3g3 454 overlooked, or rather, of which they have not known the value. I saw, a few days since, at tlie house of a polite sea-captain, on the Riva dei Schiavoni, some charming; little sketches, by Paul Veronese, in the same golden tone of colour which gives such ani- mation to his larger pieces ; and I am already in hope, that I shall be able to procure some similar relics of this great master, whose works are interred, with so many others, in your immense Museum. You think your- selves vastly civilized, but you have acted like barbarians, in taking these fine produc- tions out of Italy. You did not consider, thieves as you are — that you could not carry away the atn»osphere which adds so much to their beauty. You have lessened the pleasures of the civilized world. The picture which now hangs solitary, and almost unob- served, in one of the corners of your gallery, formed, when here, the glory and the con- versation of a whole city. x\t Milan, as soon as you arrived, they began to talk to you of the '' Christ crowned w ith thorns," of Titian. At Bologna, the first enquiry of your valet 455 was, whether you wished to see the St. Cecilia of Raphael: even this valet would know half- a-dozen phrases of connoisseurship relative to that chef d'oeuvre. I am aware that these phrases are tiresome to the amateur, who is desirous of feeling", and judging, for himself He is often dis- gusted with the Italian superlatives ; but these superlatives shew the general feeling of the country, with respect to the fine arts. Tiresome as they may be to me, they per- haps awaken the love of the art in some young mechanic, who will one day be an Annibal Caracci. They are like the marks of respect paid to the marquis Wellington, when he passes through the streets of Lisbon. Assuredly, the shop-boy, who cries e viva^ cannot judge of the military talents, and su- blime prudence, of that extraordinary man ; but what does it signify, these shouts are to him the recompense of his virtues, and will, perhaps, make another Wellington of the young officer who is his aide-de-camp. At Rome, the person best known, and highest in estimation, is Canova, At Paris^ 2g4 456 the people of the quarter know M. the Duke, whose hotel is at the end of the street. Nothing more is necessary^ to shew you that it is in vain that you carry oil' to Paris the Transfiguration, and the Apollo :— that you transfer to canvas, the Descent from the Cross, painted by Daniel de Volterra, in fresco: these works are dead to you ; your fine arts want a public that can feel them. Have your Italian opera, — have your Mu- seum : — it is all very well. You may, per- haps, arrive in these departments, at a decent mediocrity; but you will excel only in comedy, in the lively song, in moral ridicule ; Excudent alii spirantia moliius sera. You have your Moliere, your Colle, your Pannard, your Hamilton, your La Bruyere, your Dancourt, your '' Lettres Persannes." In this delightful department, you will always be the first people in the world. Cultivate it ; place your pride in it ; encourage such writers ; great men of this description are produced by the ground on which you tread. 457 Give a tolerable orchestra to your Theatre Fran9ais ; purchase for it the fine scenery of the theatre de la Scala, at Milan, which is fresh painted every two months, and which you might have for the cost of the canvas. Men of taste from Naples, and from Stock- holm, will meet each other in the place du Carrousel, going to your theatre to see the Tartuffe, or the Mariage de Figaro. We who have travelled, know that these pieces cannot be acted any where but at Paris. In like manner, the pieces of Louis Caracci may be regarded as invisible, except in Lom- bardy. Which of your fashionable ladies has ever looked, without a yawn, at the '' Calling of St. Matthew,^' or at the '' Virgin carried to the Sepulchre," which have rather too much depth of colour. I am convinced that the worst imitations, placed in the same frames, would produce just as much effect on the genteel society of France. Now, at Rome, they will talk for a fortnight of the manner in which the fresco of the convent of San Nilo, painted by Dominichino, is going to be transferred to canvas. At Rome^ 468 it is the great artist who occupies the public attention ; at Paris, it is the successful general^ or the favourite minister, — Marsha! Saxe, or M. de Calonne. I do not say that this is well, or ill ; I merely say that it is so : and the great artist, who is jealous of his repu- tation, and who knows the weakness of the human heart, should live where his merits will be best appreciated, and where, for the same reason, his detects will be most severely criticised. At Rome, Signors A. B. C. D., of whom I know nothing but their charming works, may reside in a garret, without fear of disregard. The consideration of the whole city, from the pope's nephew, to the humblest abbe, will follow them, and they will be far more esteemed for having produced a fine picture, than a happy re- partee. This is the atmosphere required by the artist; for he, like other men, has his moments of despondency. Some of the most interesting conversation I meet with, is that into which I fall, on my arrival in a town, with the coach-maker from whom I hire the carriage in which I go to 2 459 deliver my letters of introduction, I ask him what curiosities are to be seen^ who are the most distinguished of their nobility ? He commences his reply with a few invectives against the tax-gatherers ; but after this tri- bute to his station in society^ he points out to me, very clearly, tlie actual current of public opinion. When I returned to Paris, your charming madame Barilli was still there. Not a word, however, did the master of my handsome hotel, in the rue Cerutti, say to me about her; and as for mademoiselles Mars and Fleury, he scarcely knew their names. Go to Schneider's, at Florence, the least shoe-black will say to you, '' Davidde has been here these three days ; he is to sing with the Mon- belli ; the opera, fera furore, will draw all the world to it ; every body is coming to Florence to hear it." You will be disappointed, my dear Louis, if ever you visit Italy, to find the orchestras so inferior to that of the Odeon ; and perhaps not more than one or two good voices in a company. You will think that I have been 460 telling you travellers' tales. No where will you meet with an assemblag^e like that of Paris, when you had, at the same opera, madame Barilli, mesdames Neri and Festa ; and for men, Crivelli, Tachinardi, and Porto. But do not despair of your evenin<^ ; the singers, whom you will think indifferent, will be electrified by a sensible and enthusiastic audience ; and the fire spreading from the theatre to the boxes, and from the boxes to the theatre, you will hear them sing with an unity, a warmth, a spirit, of which you have not even an idea. You will witness moments of delirium, when both performers, and au- ditors will be lost in the beauty of a finale of Cimarosa. It signifies nothing giving Crivelli thirty thousand francs at Paris ; you must purchase also a public, fitted to hear him, and to cherish the love which he has for his art. He gives a simple and sublime trait; — it passes unnoticed. He gives a com- mon, and easily distinguished, embellishment, and forthwith, every one, delighted to shew that he is a connoisseur, deafens his neighbour, by clapping as if he were mad. But these 461 applauses are without any real warmth; his feelings are unmoved; it is only his judgment which approves. An Italian gives himself up, without fear, to the enjoyment of a fine air, the first time he hears it ; a Frenchman ap- plauds with a sort of anxiety. He is afraid of having approved of what is but indifferent : — it is not till after the third or fourth repre- sentation, when it is fully determined that the air is delicious, that he will dare to cry bravo ! accenting strongly the first syllable, to shew that he understands Italian. Observe how he says to his friend, whom he meets in the green room at a first representation : How divine that is! He affirms with his lips, but with his eye he interrogates. If his friend does not reply with another superlative, he is ready to dethrone his divinity. The mu- sical enthusiasm of Paris admits of no discus- sion ; every thing is either delicieux, or exc' crable. On the other side the Alps, every man is sure of what he feels, and the discus- sions about music are endless. I thought all the great singers of the Odeon cold. Crivelli is no longer the same 462 as he w as at Naples : Tachinardi alone had some perfect passages in the Distruzione di Gerusalemme. This evil is not one of those which money can remedy ; it results from the qualities of the French public. Hear this same Frenchman^ so cautious and fearful for his vanity in speaking of niusic^ express his admiration of a bon mot^ or a happy repartee. With what animation, with what spirit, and nicety of distinction, with what copiousness of detail, does he describe the felicity of it. If you were visionary, you would be tempted to say : This country will produce a Moliere, or a Regnard, but not a Gahippi or an Anfossi. A young Italian prince will be a dilettante. He will write music, good or bad, and will fall desperately in love with some actress. If he appears at the court of his sovereign, his demeanour will be embarrassed and res- pectful. A young French nobleman goes up, even to the royal bed-chamber, with an easy ele- gance of air. You see that he is happy, and in full possession of himself. Carelessly hum- 463 ming some tune, he places himself against the balustrade which separates the king's bed from the rest of the apartment. A black- looking usher comes up, and tells him that he cannot be allowed to lean there, that he profanates the king's balustrade. — '' Ah ! my friend, you are right; I will take care to proclamate your attention," — and he turns upon his heel with a laugh.* I stiil retain, my dear Louis, the opinion I held six years ago, when I wrote to you about the great German symphonist. The cultivation of the instrumental department has ruined music. It is much more common, and much more easy, to play well on the violin, or the piano-forte, than it is to sing ; and hence arises the facility with which instru- mental music corrupts the taste of the lovers of vocal ; as the last fifty years have abun- dantly shewn. * In the French, the usher is made to say profaniser, instead of profaner, and the wit replies by using preconer, instead of preconiser. T. 464 One person only, in Italy, still knows how to manage his voice — that is Monbelli ; and one of the principal causes of the merit of his charming daughters, is doubtless the having had such a master. This, which I shall always maintain to be the only true style of singing, was also fol- lowed by mademoiselle Martinez, the pupil of Metastasio, who having passed his youth, in the beginning of the eighteenth century, at Rome and Naples, with the celebrated Ro7nanina, knew how the human voice should be managed so as to charm every heart. His secret is very simple. — The voice should be good, and should display itself.* * This observation h perfectly just. Where nature has supplied the materials, the application of them is easy. The first thing requisite, is to place the voice at the back part of the throat, as is done in pronouncing the vowel A in the word all. This will give that fulness of lone, which constitutes, what the Italians call, a voce di petto, and will,at the same time, bring the vocal organs into the position most proper for acquiring a correct, and rapid execution. A second position may be formed by means of the same vowel 6 465 This is all ; and for this purpose it is re- quisite that the accompaniment should be soft, — pizzicatos on the violin^ and, in general, that the passages executed should be slow. As things now are, a fine voice has no chance except in the recitatives ;* it is here that ma- as pronounced in the word art, and a third, upon the sound of the dipthong ea in the word Earth. When a facility of execution in these three positions has been acquired, the pupil may proceed to the use of words, in the utterance of which he will frequently find it neces- sary to deviate from the pronunciation which good speaking would dictate, in order to preserve a suitable breadth of tone. As consonants have a tendency to shut up the mouth, they should have no more stress laid on them, than is ne- cessary to an intelligible and clear articulation, taking care never to introduce them, till the time of the note which they finish is expired. These few directions are sufficient for what relates to the mechanical part of singing, in which the principal thing required is regular and assiduous practice ; but the higher excellencies of the art, depend on the mental con- stitution of the artist. G. * The sense is not very clear in the original, " Actuelle- ment les belles voix se sauvent dans les recitatifs ;" The author's sentiment appears to be, that the music is in general played so quick, that the recitatives, in which the singer spares himself , are the most beautiful parts, T. 2h 466 dame Catalanij andVelluti, are most beautiful. It was thus that cantatas were sung* eighty years ago. Now, we execute full gallop, a polonaise, followed by a grand air, in which the instruments contend with the voice for mas- tery, or pause only for ad libitum passages, and to give the singer an opportunity to make everlasting nourishes. And this we call an opera ; — and this may amuse for a quarter of an hour ; — and this never drew a single tear. The best female singers that I have heard in Italy, (observe, to save ray credit, that the greatest talents may perhaps never have had the good fortune to exhibit before me ;) the best female singers, I have heard in these latter days, are mademoiselle Eiser, and the two Monbelli. The former has married an agreeable poet, and no longer sings in public ; the latter are the hope of the Italian Poly- hymnia. Imagine the finest style, the utmost sweetness of tone, the most perfect expres- sion; imagine madame Barilli, with a voice still more beautiful, and with all the requi- site warmth of feeling. I believe that the 467 Monbelli sing only in the serious opera ; con- sequently madame Barilli would have an ad- vantage over them as the Fanciulla sventurata of the Nemici generosi^ as the countess Alma- vivo of FigarOj as Donna Anna in Don Juan, &c. You should have heard the little Mon- belli sing the Adriano in Siria at Milan : people were mad after it. Happily for you, they are still very young, and you may yet have an opportunity of hearing the youngest, who takes the male characters. Nothing was wanting to complete the opera, but Velluti, the only good soprano, of a cer- tain kind, that Italy possesses, to my know- ledge, and the younger Davidde. The latter has a charming voice, but he is at present far inferior to the Monbelli. He has a taste for embellishment, which would just suit your Paris concerts, and I am convinced he would soon rival M. Garat in the public favour. As for the little Monbelli, all our connoisseurs would say : '' Is that all .?" In Italy they will probably reach the highest reputation; provided some rich man does not deprive us of them, 2n % 468 Madame Maiifredini would delight you in the Camilla of Paer ; she has a powerful voice. But what principally pleased me in this opera, which I saw at Turin, was the performance of Bassi, who is unquestionably the first comic sint»;er of Italy, at the present day. You should hear him, in this opera, address his master, a youn«f officer who is thinking of passing the night at a gloomy looking castle, in the air. Signer la vita e corta, Andiani, per caritii. He is animated, he understands stage-effect, and is fond of his profession. Added to this, he has a profound knowledge of comedy, and has even composed some agreeable pieces, I have acquired this admiration of him merely from his performance of Ser Marc Antonio, at Milan. He has a good voice, and would be perfect, if he possessed the counter-tenor of your Porto. I do not know where he is at present. But what shall we say ? Upon my rystem, the \oice is destroyed by a cevtain degree of 469 passion in men^ and in women, by a certain degree of personal attraction. If you say that this is one of my odd fancies, I reply, with Cesar de Senneville, a la bonne heure! Be it so.* Nozzari, whom you have seen at Paris, is the fittest person in the world for the part of Paolino, in the Matrimonio segreto. I thought it rather too high for Crivelli. Pellegrini is a magnificent counter-tenor. He should take some lessons from the younger Baptiste, from Thenard, or Potier, or, which would be still better, from the admirable Dugazon, if you are still in possession of that delightful comic singer, whose merit you have not appreciated, grave, and important gentlemen as you are. You are better acquainted than I am with Grassini, Festa, Neri, Sessi, who have been at Paris. You still regret madame Strina- Sacchi, so superior in the part of Caroline, in the Matrimonio segreto^ and whom your * See Picard's Novel, Eugene et Guillaume, T. 2 H 3 470 theatrical amateurs used to call, not with- out justice, the Dumesnil of the theatre Louvois. I was much pleased with madame Carolina Bassi, whom I heard in the handsome new concert-room at Brescia; she is a very ani- mated actress. Madame Melanotti is also of the same character. Vittoria Sessi has a very pretty figure, and a powerful voice. I have never seen madame Camporesi, who must be now at Paris. She is in high esti- mation at Rome. I have no occasion to say any thing of Tachinardi, who is so excellent when he is animated ; the tenor-singer Siboni treads in his steps. Parlamagni and Ranfagni are still what they were when yon saw them, that is, excellent comic singers. De Grecis, and Zamboni, are good actors : the perform- ance of the former in the Pretendenti delusi, which had a great run at Milan three years ago, was perfect. It is our opera of Les Pre- tendus, suitably arranged for the Italian stage, ■with agreeable music by Mosca. The trio. Con respetto e riverenza, 471 with the air for the flute^ at the end, much pleased me. I shall say nothing' of madame Catalani, nor of madame Gaforini. I have not seen the first since her debut at Milan, thirteen years since, and the latter, unfortunately, is mar- ried. Her style was the very perfection of comic singing. You should have seen her in the Dama Soldato, in Ser Marc Antonio, in the Ciahatino. A more lively, gay, animated being will never again arise for the amuse- ment of men of taste. Madame Gaforini was to Lombard y, what madame Barilli was to Paris ; the place of neither can be supplied. From the different character of the people, you will suppose that, in many respects, ma- dame Gaforini must be the opposite of ma- dame Barilli, and you will be right in your conjecture. Three months ago, when a very fine singer was performing at the Conservatorio of Milan, I heard those who sat near me saying : '' Is it not a pity that that admirable buffo C -, should be left to vegetate in a corner of Milan ? Why do they not make him a pro- 2h 4 472 fessor at the Conservatorio, that he may give a little animation to this handsome statue ?'* I forget the statue's name. People who have been at Naples, speak in the highest terms of the buffo Casacieli. I have also heard a great deal of madame Paer, and the tenor singer^ Marzochi. This, my friend, is the substance of what I know about the vocal performers of Italy. I may add to those before-mentioned, madame San- drini, with whom I was much pleased at Dresden. I omit giving an account of the theatres of Vienna ; I should have too much to say about them. Ask the French ofhcers who were there in 1809. I doubt not they will remember the tears they shed at the Croise, a melodrama equal for effect to the best romantic tragedies; as well as the in- extinguishable laughter excited by the ad- mirable performance of the dancer, Rainaldi ; who, I think, played in the ballet of the Vintage. Don Juan, the Matrimonio segreto, the Clemenza de Tito, the Sargines of Paer, Cherubini's Eliska, Lisheth folle par amour, and many other justly-esteemed German 473 works^ were performed in a superior style at the same time. With respect to the composers^ I consider them in general to be carried away by the taste of the times, in a wrong direction ; but, without entering into an unintelligible criti- cism of them, I shall merely relate the facts with which I am acquainted relative to them. Paesiello, and Zingarelli, are not of the present school ; they are the remaining con- temporaries of Piccini and Cimarosa. Valentine Pioravanti, so well known at Paris by his Cantatrici villane^ is a native of Rome, and still young. His comic operas are much admired. The Pazzie a vicenda, which he produced at Florence, in 1791 ; the Furbo and the Fabro Parigino, performed at Turin, in 1797, are his principal works. Simone Mayer, born in Bavaria, but edu- cated in Italy, is perhaps the most esteemed composer of the present day, and, at the same time, one of whom I can say the least. His style seems to me, of all others, the most likely to occasion the total ruin of dramatic 474 music. He resides at Bergamo^ from whence the most advantageous proposals have hi- therto been unable to draw him. He is very industrious. I have seen, at least, twenty of his pieces performed. He is known at Paris by the Finte rivali, a comic opera, in which madame Correa performs. There are some airs in it, but not always of sufficient dignity, and great richness of ac- companiment. His Pazzo per la musica is pretty ; Adelasia and Aleramo, a serious opera, had a great run at Milan. Mayer makes us enjoy the immense progress which instru- mental music has made since the days of Pergolese, and at the same time, causes us to regret the beautiful airs of that period. Ferdinando Paer, of whom I unfortunately have the same opinion as of Mayer, was born at Parma, in 1774. 1 have heard persons of the greatest intelligence in Paris speak with encomium of his genius. He has already writ- ten thirty operas. His Camilla and Sargine, two years ago, were performed at the same time, at Naples, Turin, Vienna, Dresden, and Paris. 475 Pavesi and Mosca^ are much liked in Italy, jand have written numerous comic operas, which contain some pleasing airs, not en- tirely stifled by the orchestra. Both these composers are young. The operas of Farinelli, bom near Padua, are pleasing. He was brought up in the Con- servatorio de' Turchini, at Naples, and has already composed eight or ten operas. The highest expectations are formed of sig- ner Rossini, a young man of twenty-five, who has just made his debut. It must be allowed, jthat his airs are surprisingly graceful, when sung by the lovely Monbelli. The chef-d'oeuvre of this young man, who has a fine person, is the Italiana in Algeri. He seems, already, to re- pent himself a little. I could not discover the least genius, or originality, in the Turco in Italia, which has just been performed at Milan, and has failed. I surely need not repeat that I have pro- bably passed over in silence many names of deserved reputation in Italy, merely because I am not acquainted with them. I have never been in Sicily, and it is a long time 476 since I was at Naples. It is in that fortunate country, that land of fire, that fine voices are produced. I formerly noticed there some customs very different from ours, and in my opinion, more amusing. They do not expose a plagiary, in that country, in a partiphlet : they take the thief in the fact. If the com- poser, whose work is performing, has pilfered an air, or even a few bars only, from another, as soon as the stolen passage commences, shouts of bravo arise from all quarters, ac- companied with the name of the rightful pro- prietor. If Piccini has plundered Sacchini, he will be saluted incessantly with bravo Sac- chini! If it is observed, in the course of the opera, that he has taken a little from every body, they will cry. Well done, bravo, Ga- luppi ! bravo, Traetta ! bravo Guglielmi ! If the same custom prevailed in France, how many of the operas of the Feydeau would be saluted with this sort of bravos. But let us not speak of the living. Every body now knows, that the celebrated air in the Visitandines, Enfant cheri des dames, is Mozart's. 477 Duni would have heard^ bravo^ Hasse ! for the commencement of the air : Ah! la maison maudite! the first fifteen bars of which^ are the firsts also,, of the air, Priva del euro bene. Monsigny would have had a bravo, Pergo- lese ! for the opening of his duet, Venez, tout nous reussit, which is exactly the same with that of the air, Tu sei troppo scelerato, and another for the air, Je ne sais a quoi me ri- soudre. Philidor would have had a bravo, Pergo- lese ! for his air. On me fete, on me cajole, the accompaniment of which may be found in the air. Ad un povero polacco ; bravo, Cocchi ! for the air, // fallait le voir au dinianche, quand il sortait du cabaret, which is nothing else than the air, Donne belle che pigliate, without alter- ation ; bravo, Galuppi ! for the cavatina, Vois le chagrin que me devore. Gretry would also have had a few packets addressed to him. What is mere easy than to make an ex- cursion into Italy, where, in general, the music is not engraved, to take copies of whatever a man may hear, in the hundred theatres open every year, for the performance of music in 478 that country, that is g-ood, or suited to the^ prevailing; taste at Paris ; to connect the dif- ferent passages by a little harmony; and then to show off in France^ as a grand composer. The experiment is attended with no hazard^ for a French score never passes the Alps. What favourites would Mosca's airs, in the Pretendenti dclusi. Con nspetto e rivirenza, and the quatuor^ Da che siam unttij parliam de' nostri affari, have been at the Feydeau ; and who would ever have known them ? * A man wants nothing, but feeling, to be sensible that Italy is the land of excellence in all the arts. There is no occasion to go into the proof of this with you, my friend : but a thousand circumstances seem to favour music more especially. The extreme heat, followed in the evening by a refreshing cool- ness, grateful to every thing that breathes. * We think we have consulted the author's reputation ill omitting here a passage in vindication of an infamous practice, once frequent in Italy, but which tlie universal reprobation of a more humane and enlightened age has nearly abolished. T. 479^ renders the hour at which the theatres opeu, the most agreeable of the day. This hour is almost every where, between nine and ten in the evening, that is to say, four hours, at least, after dinner. You hear the music in a favourable ob- scurity. Excepting on festivals, the theatre de la Scala, at Milan, which is larger than the opera at Paris, is only lighted by the lamps of the balustrade ; in short, you are per- fectly at ease, in dark boxes, which resemble small parlours. I am disposed to think that a certain languor is necessary, thoroughly to enjoy vocal music. It is a fact, that a month's residence at Rome changes the gait of the most lively French- man. He no longer walks with his former sprightliness, he is in a hurry for nothing. In cold climates, exercise is necessary for circu- ation. In warm ones, the supreme felicity is the dimno far niente — the delight of doing nothing. 480 Paris, .... Will you reproach me, in inquinng into the present state of music in France, with speaking only of Paris ? In Italy, one may mention Leghorn, Bologna, Verona, Ancona, Pisa, and twenty other towns, which are not capitals ; but in France, there is no origin- ality in the provinces. Paris, alone, in this great kingdom, can be considered with re- lation to music. An unfortunate spirit of imitation prevails in the provinces, which renders them of no weight in the arts, as in many other things. At Bourdeaux, at Marseilles, at Lyons, you might fancy yourself in the Marais.* When will these cities have resolution to think for themselves, and to hiss what comes from Paris, when it does not please them ? In the present state of society there, they imitate awkwardly the elegance of the capital ; they * The Marais is one of the most ancient quarters ot Paris, inhabited principally by the bourgeoisie. T. 6 481 are studiously simple^ affectedly natural, pom- pously unpretending. From Toulouse, to Lille, the young man of fashion, the nymph who wishes to be agree- able, are above all things desirous of being like the Parisians ; and pedants are to be met with, even in things where pedantry would seem impossible. These people appear not to know whether they like a thing or not; they must know what is thought of it at Paris. I have often heard foreigners remark, and justly, that there is nothing in France, but Paris, or the country. Even a man of sense, if born in the provinces, will in vain attempt to resist the contagion : for a long time, his manners will be less natural than if he had been a native of Paris. Simplicity, *' that straight-forward quality which prevents a man from calculating the effects of his actions,"* * The quotation is from Fenelon, and is scarcely sus- ceptible of translation. " Cette droiture d'une ame qui s'interdit tout retour sur elle, et sur ses actions." T,< 2i 483 is perhaps, of all things, the most uncommon in France. To a person familiar with Paris, there is nothing new to be seen at Marseilles, or at Nantes, but the Loire, and the port, that is to say, physical objects; the moral world is the same. Whereas, fine cities like these, containing 80,000 inhabitants, the natural situation of which is so different, would be very interesting subjects for investiga- tion, if they possessed any originality. The example of Geneva, where strangers stop much longer than at Lyons, though it is not a quarter of the size of the latter, and though the manners of the place are rather pedantic, ought to have its influence on the French city. In Italy, nothing can be more diffe- rent, and, sometimes, more opposite, than towns which are situated within thirty leagues of each other. Madame Gaforini, though such a favourite at Milan, was almost hissed at Turin. In judging of the state of music in France and Italy relatively, we must not make the 483 Comparison between Paris and Rome^ or we shall again be deceived in favour of our dear country. We must consider^ that, in Italy, towns which contain not more than four thousand inhabitants, as Crema, and Como, which I mention out of a hundred others^ have fine theatres, and, occasionally, ex- cellent singers. Last year, people went from Milan to hear the Monbelli at Como; which was as if the Parisians were to go to the theatre at Melun, or Beauvais. The manners of the two countries are altogether different ; you would suppose you were at a thousand leagues distance. In the largest cities of France, you meet with nothing but the shrill singing of the French comic opera. If a piece succeeds at the Feydeau, you are sure to see it acted at Lyons two months afterwards. When will the wealthy inhabitants of a town, containing a population of 100,000 souls, situated at the very entrance of Italy, take it into their heads to send for a composer, and have some music of their own ? 2i 2 48* The climate of Bordeaux, the rapid for- tunes, and novel ideas, arising from com- merce, added to the natural vivacity of the Gascons, ought, one should think, to pro- duce a comedy more lively, and more fer- tile in events, than that of Paris. Not the least appearance of any such thing. The young- Frenchman there, as every where else, studies his La Harpe, and never once thinks of laying down the book, and asking himself: Does this really please me ? What little originality there is in France, is to be met with only in those classes who are too ignorant to imitate ; but the lower ranks, in that country, have no regard for music, and never will the son of a French wheelwright become a Joseph Haydn. The opulent class learn from the journals every morning, what opinions they are to hold upon politics and literature for the rest of the day. Lastly, we may mention, as a cause of the decline of the arts in France, the English attention which our most Intel- 485 ligent and sensible men pay to politics. It is certainly an advantage to live in a free country ; but^ unless a man's pride be ex- tremely irritable, or his sensibility very un- fortunately placed for his enjoyinentj I do iiot see what pleasure he can find in continually busying himself about political matters. The happiness of a man of the world, is very little increased by the way in which power is distributed in the country which he in- habits; it may be injured, but not augmented, by it. I compare the condition of those patriots who are incessantly dvv'eliing on itie adjni- nistration of the laws, and the bil mce of powers, in a state, to that of a mau who should be in continual anxiety about the solidity of the house in which he lives. I would choose, in the first instance, a solid^ and well-built habitation ; but, after all, the house has only been built to live comfortably in; and it seems to me, that a man rnust be of a very unfortunate turn, to be trou'iling himself about the state of his roof^ when he Si 3 486 might enjoy himself with the ladies in the parlour ; Et propter vitam, vivendi perdere causas* Thus, my friend, I have given you, ac- cording to your request, my ideas, perhaps hastily formed, of tlie present state of music in Italy. It is generally considered to be in a state of rapid declension, and I believe it to be so myself. 1 am, however, content to enjoy the declension every evening, but I devote the day to another art. The accotmt which 1 have given you, therefore, is doubtless very incomplete For instance, it has only just occurred to me that Mosca has a brother, who, like himself, is an agreeable composer. I should much rather have talked to you about the admirable copy of the Last Supper of Lionardo da Vinci, which has been made * This French political philosophy reminds one of the Fable of the Fox and Grapes. T. •2 487 by the chevalier Bossi ; — of the fine sketches made by this great painter, and amiable nian^ for the late count Battaglia, relative to the character of the four great Italian poets ; — of the frescos of Appiani, at the royal palace, or the villa built by signer Melzi,* on the lake of Como. This would be much more to my present taste, than to write about the finest modern opera. In music, as, alas ! in many things besides, I am a man of another age. Madame de Sevigne, faithful to her ancient predilections, liked Corneille only ; and said that Racine, and coffee, would go out of fashion. I am, perhaps, equally unjust to signors Mayer, Paer, Farinelli, Mosca, Rossini, who are highly esteemed in Italy. The air, Ti rivedrd mi rivedrai. * Melzi was vice-president of the Italian Republic under Bonaparte. T. 2i4 488 in the Tancred of the latter, who, 1 am told, is very young*, has certainly much pleased me. I am also always gratified with a duet of Farinelli's, beginning. No, non v'iinio, which, in many theatres, is added to the second act of the Matrimonio segreto. I must confess, my dear Louis, that since the time 1 wrote to you from my retreat at Salzburg, I have never been able to account for the little interest shewn in Italy for the works of Pergolese, and the great masters who were contemporary with him. It is almost as singular, as if we should prefer our petty writers of the present day, to Racine and Moliere. I am aware that Pergolese was born before music had attained perfection in all its branches ; the instrumental department has apparently reached its height since his death. But chiaroscuro made immense progress after the time of Raphael, yet he is still considered the first painter in the world. 489 Montesquieu justly observes : " If heaven were to bestow on men the piercing sight of the eagle, who doubts that the rules of architecture would be immediately changed. We should require orders differently com- posed." It is evident that the Italians are changed since the time of Pergolese. The conquest of Italy, which was effected by a series of splendid actions, first roused the people of Lombardy. In the sequel, the exploits of her soldiers in Spain and Russia, her association with the destinies of a great, though unfortunate, empire, — the genius of Alfieri, who opened the eyes of his youthful countrymen to the trifling character of the pursuits on which their ardour was wasted ; every thing has awakened in this fine country, Ch' Appenin parte, e'l mar circonda e I'Alpe, the desire to become a nation. I have heard that, in Spain, the Italian 3 4dO troops, on some occasions, surpassed even the French veterans. Many noble characters have disting-iiished themselves in the ranks of that army. Judging from the conduct of a young field-officer, whom I saw wounded in the neck, at the battle of Moscow, that army possesses officers as remarkable for elevation of mind, as for military merit. I have found them, in general, unaffected in their manners, natural and profound in their way of thinking, and free from all ostentation. This was not the case in 1750. There has, then, taken place, an important change in the inhabitants of Italy. This change has not yet had time to affisct the arts. The provinces of the ancient kingdom of Italy have not yet enjoyed any of those long intervals of repose, which lead nations to seek for a variety in their sensations from the fine arts. I have been well pleased to observe, of late years, in Lombardy, a circumstance which is not equally agreeable to all my country- men. I mean a little aversion for Prance. 491 Alfiefi laid the foundation of this senti- ment;, and it has been strengthened by the twenty or thirty millions which the king- dom of Italy paid every year to the French empire. An ardent young man^, just entering upon his career, and eager to distinguish himself, is checked by the admiration he cannot help feeling to be due to those who have ob- tained the first honours from the hands of victory before him. If the Italians admired us more, they would resemble us less in our brilliant qualities. I should not be greatly surprised, if they were now to become aware that there is no true greatness, in the arts, without originality ; no national greatness, >vithout an English constitution. Perhaps I may yet live to see the Mandragore of Machiavel, the Commedie dell' arte, and the operas of Pergolese, revived in Italy. The Italians will be sensi!)le, sooner or later, that these are what constitisie their glory, and foreigners will esteem tho ,i the more for it. For my own part, I confess I was quite dis- 49$ appointed^ on ^oing one day to the theatre at Venice, to tind them performing Zaire. The whole audience, down to the very cor- poral at the door, were in tears, and the actors possessed considerable merit. But when I want to see Zaire, 1 go to the Theatre Francais, at Paris. I was much more gTatified with seeing', the next day, the Ajo nel imba- razzo, a comedy written by a native of Rome^ and played in superior style by a fat actor, who reminded me, immediately, of ItHaud of Berlin, and of Mole, in the serio-comic parts which he took towards the close of his career. This fat actor appeared to me worthy to be one of the triumvirate. But I sought in vain in Venice for the plays of Gozzi, and the Commedia dell arte ; instead of these, they performed, almost every day, translations from the French theatre. The day before yester- day I escaped from the dullness of the Jealous Wife, to divert myself with Punch, in the piazza di S. Marco. He has really afibrded me more amusement than I have found in any theatre where music is not performed. 493 Punch, and Pantaloon, are natives of Italy, and in spite of all our endeavours, we never excel, but in the department which nature has assio:ned us. INDEX. ACCENT, 359. Acras of Composers, 39. 177. Alficri, 444. Ancient Concert, 192. Artaxcrxes , 30. Assassination of Stradella, 296. Balliot, 359. Bach, 105. BaiJHi, 88. 158. 466. Beethoven, '2. 22. 64. 115. 205. Bernard, 152. Bertoni,:^?0. Bobbin of (Jold Thread, 243. Billingiton, 18. 194. Boschi, 58. Branchu, 155. Borromean Isles, 212. Camporesi, 470. Cabanis, 221. Canova, 285. 455. Capri, 267. Carpani , 264. CaDtatrici,320. Carracci, 128. 155.457. Carissimi, 267. Caravaggio, 128. Catalan!, 278. Cafe de Foi, 76. Chembini, '217. Cunarosa, 120. 171. ISI. 273. 286. Claude Lorraine, 149. 169. 240. Clemen ti, 141. Colour of the Instruments, 255. Cosifan Tutfi, 417. Comparison with Painters, 301. Concert Spiritual, 185. Corelli,21. Corner, 39. CorregKio. 127.253.967, Counterpoint, 48. 201. 273. Creation, 225. 238. 246. Crivelli, 89. 95. 262. 439. 460. Curtz, 44. Dante, 442. Daviride, 459. Devil on Two Sticks, 45. Deli lie, 234. Do; tors d'"grec, 196. Domenechino, 272. 274, 302. 457, Don Juan, 121. 380, Description of Canzonetts, 150, Creadon, 261. Chaos, 247. ■ Leviathan, 258. Wild beasts, 265, Orpheus, 194, Ariadne, 153. INDEX. 496 Description of Sinfonia, 186. — Comic do. 144. Quartett, 63. Beethoven's do. 64. Beethoven Si nf. 115. Masses, 215. • Mount of Olives,205 Mozart's Operas,302. ■ Requiem, 403. English Music, 165. School, ni. Flemish music, 165. Fioravanti, 473. Figaro, 237. 271—304. 408. Four Seasons, 288. Friedburg, 54. Fugue, 13. Gabrielli, 18. Gaforini, 471—482. Garal, 278, Gassman, 21. Garrick, 161. German music, 164. Gherard, 162. Gluck, 105. 120. 126. 162. 180. 239. Guido, 205. 269. 271. Handel, 229. 370. Haydn's Birth-day, 308. Ring) 183. Picture, 195. Harmony, 252. Harmonic Game, 111. Hasse, 142. 175. Hymn at St. Paul's, 8T. Instinctive tones, 221. Introduction to P. E, 55. Inn, liola bella, 71. Jomelli, 113, US- Keys in Music, 98. Keller, 42. Laharp, 163. 205. Leo, 173. Leonardi da Vinci, 95, 204. Lobkowitz, 264. 309. London Captain, 188. . Nobleman, 187. Music-seller, 190. Lulli, 14. 16. 20. Mat. Segreto, 85. 157.241.244.270. Martinez, 52. Martini, 106. 113. 141.371. Marcello, 139. 239. Marches!, 18.432. Masses, 199. 202. 214. Melody, 200. Marata, 139. Mortzin, 54. Milton, 260. Mithridates, 365, Miserere, 356. Murad, 299. Neapolitan School, 171. Nemici Generosi, 270. 272. Niglnirgale, 280. Notation, 51. Operas, Haydn's, 145. 193. , Sarail, 375. 389. Pacr, 474. Paesiello, 95. 125. 182. 216, Paul Veronese, 454. Perez, 175. Pelligrini, 469. 49S INDEX. Pergolesc, 174. 2«5, 486. Philharmonic Society, 35. 192. Piano-Forte, 106. Pitt, Mr. 242, Podestra, 238. Porpora, 39. 173. Power of the Orchestra, 231. Purcel, 166. Quartetts, 62. 111. 306. Raphael, 84. 169. 271. 422. Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 194. Renter, 25. 35, Requiem, 403. Rossini, 475. Rousseau, 37. Sacchini, 176. 182.280. Salomon, 185, 234. Sarti, 125. 181. Scarlatti, 173, Seven Words, 132. Spectator, 275. Sinfonias, 62. 100. 134. 143. , Comic, 143. Siuging, 464. Stradella, 295. Swicteu Von, ?^ 248. 304. Tartini, 96. Talma, 289. Thorny Arcacia, 269. Thoroiish Bass, 248. Titian, 454. Transfiguration, 93. Traetta, 176. 178. Trombone, 15. Violin, 52. 359. Voice, 124. Vienna, 5. Virgil, 170.321. Vigano's Ballet, 249. Werter, 281. VVcbbe, 166. Wcigl, 233. Wellington, Duke, 455. Wind Instruments, 1U3. ZauberFlote, 415. Zingarelli, 232. Phuted by W* Lewis, St. Jobn's-square^ London. .F,S4 3"! ^ti^ii*\;S/* U \^\ ^3 1 !^