at best, but a sort of hurried pleasure;-nothing fastens on his recollection.

1. BALLAD, "Dear vale, whose green retreats," with an Accompaniment for the Piano-Forte, composed by THOMAS ATTWOOD. (Published by the Royal Harmonic Institution, 246, Regent Street.)

2. BALLAD, "Whene'er she bade me cease to plead," The words written by ERASMUS MADOX, Esq., composed and published by the same.

3. BALLAD," Mutual love," the Poetry by the same, composed and published by the same.

4. BALLAD, "How oft where cooling zephyrs play," composed and published by the same.

5. SONG, "The Beacon," with an accompaniment for the Piano-Forte, by J. Mc. MURDIE, Mus. Bac. Oxon. (Clementi and Co.)

6. BALLAD," County Guy," the words from Quentin Durward, the warble inscribed and recommended to Miss Stephens (the lady of the lute) by a Lark, whose song has been collected by TOMMASO ROVEDINO, by whom has been added an Accompaniment for the Harp and Flute. (Birchall and Co. New Bond Street.)

7. SONG," County Guy," from Quentin Durward, composed by WILLIAM ROOKE, Pianiste to the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane. (J. Power, 34, Strand.)

8. RECIT. and AIR, "The moment of victory." as sung by Mr. Braham, at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, written by E. Knight, Esq., composed by WILLIAM ROOKE. (J. Power, 34, Strand.)

9.

"Love wakes and weeps," SERENADE in the novel of the Pirate, set to music by H. J. BANISTER. (Royal Harmonic Institution, Regent Street.)

The movement in triple time is not so striking as the first, but it is, nevertheless, very sweet.-Mr. Elliott has fallen into an error, however, in the commencement, not uncommon indeed, but certainly one that ought to be more carefully avoided, he has left the alto part with an unfinished sentence, so that if the words are read The first of Mr. Attwood's Ballads is an elegant and exwithout reference to the other parts, they will run thus-pressive melody, full of tenderness, and of that genuine “While Pan and fair Syrinx-the graces are banish'd." The rest of the air is exceedingly elegant, and the return to the original subject as judicious in the composer, as it must be gratifying to the auditor.

Mr. Mc. Murdie's glee possesses much merit, though it cannot lay claim to any great originality. There is nothing peculiarly striking on the first movement, but the conception is judicious, and the execution correct. The allegro moderato in the major key, begins very pleasingly, and there is a novel character in the next movement in D minor particularly in the subject. The expressivo, page 7, is elegant, and the change to the minor, upon the words "darksome melancholy," exceedingly well managed; but the descent in the alto, fourth bar, page s, from E natural to B natural, against A flat in the tenor, and D flat in the bass, without any preparation, could not, but with extreme difficulty, be hit by the most experienced singer.

The last movement is decidedly the best, as having more of vocal character throughout.

Upon the whole, this is a well constructed composition, but the different subjects interrupt each other too quickly, and destroy the impression that would otherwise be made by the continuation of some striking point of melody or imitation; there is no time given for the attention to repose upon the particular strain that may have at first attracted it, and though the hearer may be pleased, it is,

taste which characterizes this gentleman's compositions. The accompaniment is judicious, aiding instead of rivaling the singer, and the words are most correctly set, not one doubtful accent occurring to distress an ear attuned either to poetical or musical prosody.

The second," when e'er she bade me," has not yielded us the same pleasure that we derived from the first; its subject and cadences are rather common, and the frequent repetition of the words takes from it the principal feature of a ballad.

No. 3, is smooth and pretty, though we cannot say so much in praise of the poetry, which is not very inspiring, certainly.

The fourth of these ballads is superior to the second and third, and will be generally admired, being composed in a popular style, and with a rhythm so decidedly marked, that the melody will impress itself on every

ear.

Mr. Mc. Murdie's song, The Beacon, is a charming composition, and does him great credit. That he read the poetry of it with a discriminating eye before he set it to music, is evident from the accuracy with which the sentiments are expressed, and the unexceptionable correctness of his accentuation. The use of the term larghetto melanconico had better be avoided in the future impressions of this song; first because the stanza at the head of which it is placed, is expressive of hope, and,

secondly, because it is not quite correct in point of language.

No. 6, is one of the many efforts to put notes to the ballad in Quentin Durward. We have given the title of it at length, on account of its good-humour, and may securely add, that Mr. Rovedino, in setting these words, has succeeded as well as any, and better than most, of those who have preceded him in the attempt. He has written it in the key of A minor, and given a plaintive effect to it, very properly, in our opinion: but he has been betrayed into the error that others have fallen into, and introduced an imitation of the lark's notes, apparently over-looking the sense of the lines,

The lark his lay

Who trill'd all day,

Sits hush'd his partner nigh.

No. 7, is another musical essay upon the subject mentioned in the foregoing paragraph, and is in no way remarkable.

No. 8, is a piece addressed to the galleries. We suspect that it contains some errors of the engraver, but there are others in it for which the composer must be answerable. The words are so displaced in setting, and thereby are so entirely devoid of meaning, that it is impossible to say whether or not justice has been done them. But we cannot help observing generally, and with regret, how fast poetical nonsense is gaining ground at our national theatres.

The song from The Pirate, No. 9 of the above list, is not without merit, as a melody, but the composer has been regardless of the poet's metre, and in one instance has sacrificed his sense. The following passage, appears, in this song:

Quotidienne, and other French journals; another long chapter on Madame Pasta's voice; another on the politics and parties of the French theatres; a fourth on the management and economy of theatres in general; a fifth on the construction and decoration of the same; a sixth on the music of the Germans, English, and Scotch, &c. &c., subjects highly important, no doubt, to illustrate the talents and character of Rossini! We had sketched out a list of the paradoxes, contradictions, and whimsical opinions upon music, with which the work abounds, for the edification of our readers. However, upon revising our materials, they appear undeserving of serious notice, and would rather tend to weary the reader's patience, than to gratify his curiosity. In the translation, or rather selection from the work announced above, these absurdities have been judiciously omitted, and, therefore, we shall content ourselves with such extracts from it as will serve to render the memoir of Rossini in our first volume more complete.

Rossini made his debût at Venice. The Impresario (Director) of the Theatre San-Mosè, not content with gaining, for a trifling consideration, the talents of a rising genius, who was patronised by the ladies in particular, treat him cavalierly with impunity. Rossini at once gave thought, that as the young composer was poor, he might a proof of that originality of character by which he has always been distinguished.

In quality of composer, Rossini's power over the orchestra was absolute, and he could oblige them to execute whatever he composed. In the new opera, therefore, of La Scala di Seta, which he composed for the insolent impressario, he brought tocombinations in which, it may well be supposed, a head like his gether an assemblage of all the extravagances and whimsical is sufficiently fertile. For instance, in the allegro of the overture, the violins were made to break off at the end of every bar, in order to give a rap with the bow upon the tin shades of the candlesticks. It would be difficult to imagine the astonishment and indignation of an immense concourse of people assembled from every quarter of Venice, and even from the Terra Firma, to hear the new opera of the young maestro. This public, who during the greater part of the afternoon, had besieged the doors, who had been forced to wait whole hours in the passages, and at last to endure the "tug of war" at the opening of the doors, thought themselves personally insulted, and hissed with all the vengeance of an enraged Italian public. Rossini, not in the least moved by all this uproar, coolly asked the trembling impressario with a

had it not occurred twice we should have imputed it to the smile, what he had gained by treating him so cavalierly? He carelessness of the engraver.

ANALYSIS OF NEW BOOKS.

then quitted the theatre, and started at once for Milan, where his friends had procured him an engagement. However, a month after, he made his peace with the humbled manager, and returning to Venice, produced his Tancredi

No adequate idea can be formed of the success which this delightful opera obtained at Venice, the city which, of all others, is considered as most critical in its judgments, and whose opi

Vie de Rossini, par M. De Stendhal, 2 vols. 8vo. Paris. nions, as to the merits of a composition, are supposed to hold

1824.

Memoirs of Rossini, with a Portrait. 1 vol. 8vo. ham, Old Bond-Street.

the greatest weight. Suffice it to say, that the presence of Napoleon himself, who honoured the Venetians with a visit, was Hook-unable to call off their attention from Rossini. All was cn

thusiasm ; tutto furore, to use the terms of that expressive lannu-guage, which seems to have been created for the use of the arts. From the gondolier to the patrician, every body was repeating Mi rivedrai ti revedro. In the very courts of law, the judges were obliged to impose silence on the auditory, who were ceaselessly humining Ti revedro. Of this we have been credibly informed by many persons who were witnesses of the singular fact.

THE present is a book-making age; but among the merous examples of this prolific art that daily come within our knowledge, we know of no instance more glaring than the present. The life of Rossini occupies about two hundred pages out of the 630 pages, of which the two French volumes are composed. But how, it may be asked, has The history of this scena is curious. Rossini, in the first inthe author contrived to fill up this mighty vacuum? The stance, had composed a grand air for the entrance of Tancred, but it did not please the Signora Malanote, and she refused to question will be more satisfactorily answered by a re-sing it. What was still more mortifying, she did not make known ference to the table of contents, where we find a long this unwillingness till the very evening before the first represenchapter upon the conflicting opinions of the Miroir, the tation of the piece. Malanote was a first rate singer; she was

66

aspect of a desert. All the passions, all the solicitudes, all the
life of a whole population is concentrated in the theatre.
The overture commences; so intense is the attention, that the
mendous uproar ensues. It is either applauded to the clouds, or
hissed, or rather howled at, without mercy. It is not in Italy, as
it is in other countries, where the first representation is seldom
decisive, and where either vanity or timidity prevents each man
from intruding his individual opinion, lest it should be found in
discordance with the opinion of the majority; in an Italian
theatre, they shout, they scream, they stamp, they belabour the
backs of the seats with their canes, with all the violence of per-
sons possessed. It is thus that they force upon others the judg
ment which they have formed, and strive to prove that it is the
only sound one; for, strange to say, there is no intolerance equal
to that of the eminently sensitive. When you see a man mode-
rate and reasonable in what regards the arts, begin to talk to
him of history, politics, or political economy; such a man will
make a distinguished magistrate, a good physician, a sound law-
yer, an excellent academician: in a word, whatever you will,
except an enthusiast in music or painting. At the close of each
air, the same terrific uproar ensues; the bellowings of an angry
sea could give but a faint idea of its fury.

in the flower of youth and beauty, and the gallantry of the young composer was obliged to give way to this no unusual sally of caprice. At first his despair was extreme: If, after the occurrence in my last opera," exclaimed Rossini, "the first en-buzzing of a fly could be heard. On its conclusion, the most tretrance of Tancred should be hissed, tutta l'opera va a terra." The poor young man returned pensive to his lodgings. An idea comes into his head, he seizes his pen, and scribbles down some few lines; it is the famous Tu che accendi,-that which, of all airs in the world, has perhaps been sung the oftenest, and in the greatest number of places. The story goes at Venice, that the first idea of this delicious cantilena, so expressive of the joy of revisiting one's native shore after long years of absence, is taken from a Greek litany, which Rossini had heard some days before chanted at vespers, in a church on one of the islets of the Laguna, near Venice. At Venice, it is called the aria dei rizi (air of rice); the reason is this:-In Lombardy, every dinner, from that of the gran signore to that of the piccolo maestro, invariably begins with a plate of rice; and as they do not like their rice overdone, it is an invariable rule for the cook to come a few minutes before dinner is served up, with the important question-bisogna mettere i rizi?-(shall the rice be put down?) At the moment Rossini came home, in a state of desperation, his servant put the usual question to him; the rice was put on the fire, and before it was ready, Rossini had finished his celebrated Di tanti palpiti."

The overture captivated every heart. This was a fortunate omen for the composer. The national honour of the Venetians was still alive to the insult that had been offered them by the obligato accompaniment of the tin candlesticks. Rossini was conscious of this, and would not venture to take his place at the piano according to custom, and to the terms of his engagement. He anticipated the storm that awaited him, and had concealed himself under the stage, in the passage leading to the orchestra. After waiting for him in vain, the first violin, finding the moment of performance draw nigh, and that the public began to manifest signs of impatience, determined to commence the opera. This first allegro pleased so much, that during the applause and repeated bravos, Rossini crept from his hiding place, and slipped into his seat at the piano.

Such, at the same time, is the tact of an Italian audience, that they at once distinguish whether the merit of an air belongs to the singer or the composer. The cry is, bravo David! Brava Pesaroni! or the whole theatre resounds with bravo maestro! Rossini then rises from his place at the piano, his countenance wearing an air of great gravity-a thing very unusual with himhe makes three obeisances, which are followed by salvos of applause mingled with a variety of short and panegyrical phrases. This done, they proceed to the next piece.

extol to the skies.

After composing operas for almost all the towns in the north of Italy, Rossini's introduction to the great musical capital of the south is thus described:

Rossini presides at the piano during the three first representations; after which, he receives his SOO or 1000 francs, is invited to a grand parting dinner, given by his friends, that is to say, by the whole town, and he then starts, col veturino, with his portmanteau much fuller of music paper than of other effects, to commence a similar course, in some other town forty miles distant. It is usual with him to write to his mother after the first three representations, and send her and his aged father two-thirds of The following account of Rossini's mode of life, and of the little sum he has received. He sets off with ten or twelve the manners of an Italian theatre, is amusing enough :- sequins in his pocket, the happiest of men, and doubly happy if Rossini visited in succession all the principal towns of Italy, chance should throw some fellow-traveller in his way, whom he remaining from three to four months in each. Wherever he can quiz in good earnest. On one occasion, as he was travelling arrived, he was received with acclamations, and fêted by the col veturino, from Ancona to Reggio, he passed himself off for a dilettanti of the place. The first fifteen or twenty days were master of music, a mortal enemy of Rossini, and filled up the time passed with his friends, dining out, and shrugging up his shoul-by singing the most execrable music imaginable to some of the ders at the nonsense of the libratto given him to set to music. words of his own best airs, to show his superiority to that aniAt length, about three weeks before the first representation, mal Rossini, whom ignorant pretenders to taste had the folly to having acquired a competent knowledge of the voices, he begins to write. He rises late, and passes the day in composing in the midst of the conversation of his new friends, who, with the most provoking politeness, will not quit him a single instant. The day of the first representation is now rapidly approaching, and yet he cannot resist the pressing solicitations of these friends to dine with them a l'ostieria. This, of course, leads to a supper; the sparkling Champagne circulates freely; the hours of morning steal on apace: at length, a compunctious visiting shoots across the mind of the truant maestro'; he rises abruptly; his friends will see him to his own door; they parade the silent streets with "heads unbonetted," shouting some musical impromptu, perhaps a portion of a miserere, to the great scandal and annoyance of the good Catholics in their beds. At length he reaches his home, and shutting himself in his chamber, is at this, to every-day mortals most ungenial, hour, visited by some of the most brilliant of his inspirations. These he hastily scratches down upon odds and ends of paper, and next morning arranges them, or, to use his own phrase, instruments them, amidst the same interruptions of conversation as before. At length the important evening of the first representation arrives. The maestro takes his place at the piano; the theatre overflows; people have flocked from ten leagues distance. The curious form an encampment around the theatre in their calashes; all the inns are filled to excess, where insolence reigns at its height. All occupations have ceased. At the moment of the performance, the town has the

The glory of Rossini at length reached Naples, where the astonishment was that there could be any great composer who was not a Neapolitan. The director of the theatre at Naples was M. Barbaja, formerly of Milan, who, from being a waiter at a coffee-house, had, by good luck at play, and, above all, by his lucrative situation of manager of a faro-bank, acquired a fortune of several millions of francs. Trained up to business at Milan, in the midst of French fournisseurs, who, in army contracts, made and dissipated a fortune every six months, he could not fail of acquiring a certain tact which was afterwards very useful to him. He had sufficient address to ingratiate himself into royal favour, and to obtain the post of director of the theatre San Carlo, as well as that of Del Fondo. He had judgment to see, that, from the manner in which the reputation of Rossini was gaining ground, this young composer, good or bad, right or wrong, would become the popular composer of the day. He therefore set off post, to find him out at Bologna. Rossini, accustomed to have to deal with poor devils of impressarios, who were almost always in a state of bankruptcy, was astonished at a visit from a millionaire, who would, probably, find it unworthy of his dignity to haggle about a few dozen sequins. An engage

ment was offered and accepted on the spot. Afterwards, when
arrived at Naples, Rossini signed a scritura for several years.
He engaged to compose two new operas every year, and was
moreover to arrange the music of all the operas M. Barbaja
should think proper to produce, either in San Carlo, or the
secondary theatre of Del Fondo. In consideration of this, he
was to receive 12,000 francs per annum, as well as an interest in
a bank for play, which was farmed out by M. Barbaja, and
which brought in the composer some thirty or forty louis more
yearly.
The musical direction of these two theatres, which Rossini
had undertaken, without giving it a moment's reflection, is an im-
mense task, a Herculean labour; incredible was the quantity of
music he was obliged to transpose and adjust, according to the
compass of the voice of the different donnas, or according to the
interest or caprice of their various patrons and protectors. This
would have been sufficient to overwhelm a man of tender nerves
or sombre habits; Mozart would have sunk under it. The gay
and daring character of Rossini brought him through every ob-
stacle, every snare that the envious laid to entrap him. All he
saw in an enemy was a but for his fun and derision, in which he is a
most perfect adept. Rossini entered with a light heart upon the
heavy duties that had devolved upon him, and like the Figaro of
his own Barbiere, undertook a thousand commissions that
poured in upon him from every side. He got through them all
with a smile, and a ready joke upon all who came in his way.
This drew down upon him a host of enemies, the most sworn
among whom, in the present year, was M. Barbaja himself,
whom he has treated so unceremoniously as to marry his mis-
tress. His engagement at Naples did not conclude till 1822,
and has had a most decided influence upon his talents, his hap-
piness, and the economy of his whole life.

too low; such singing would any where else have been called execrable; but it was not proper to say so at Naples. In spite of this little inconvenience, Signora Colbrand did not the less continue to be the first singer of the theatre San Carlo, and was constantly applauded. Surely this may be reckoned as one of the most flattering triumphs of despotism. If there is one feeling more predominant than another among the Neapolitan people, it doubtless is that of music. Well, during five little years, from 1816 to 1822, this people, all fire, have been mortified in a manner the most galling, and that in the dearest of their pleasures. M. Barbaja was led by his mistress, who protected Rossini; he paid to the monarch, questo che bisognava pagare,* (such is the Neapolitan phrase); he was beloved by this prince, it was necessary to support the part of his mistress. Twenty times have I been at San Carlo, Signora Colbrand began an air; she sung so miserably out of tune, that it was impossible to endure it. I saw my neighbours desert the pit; their nerves were horrified, but they did not say a word. Let it be denied afterthis, that terror is the principle of despotic government, and that this principle can work miracles! to obtain silence from a Neapolitan in his wrath!

The following characteristic anecdote is related of the opera of Edoardo e Cristina, which was produced at Venice in the spring of 1$19.

66

Rossini, who was at this time desperately in love with Signora Chaumel, or Comelli, as the name was Italianized, could not tear himself away from Naples till within a fortnight previous to the opening of the theatre of Venice. To pacify the impatience of the impressario, he had transmitted to him from time to time a quantity of charming pieces of music. The words, it is true, were somewhat different from those that Always happy, Rossini, towards the close of 1815, made his had been sent him from Venice; but who pays any attention to debut at Naples in the most brilliant manner, with the serious the words of a serious opera. It is always the same thing over opera of Elizabetta, regina d'Inghilterra. But in order to again, felicità, felice ognora, crude stelle, &c.; and at Venice account for the success of the young composer, as well as for the nobody reads a libretto serio, not even, I believe, the impremortifications by which he was surrounded after his arrival at sario who pays for it. At length, only nine days before the first Naples, we must for a moment retrace our steps. The per-representation, Rossini appears. The opera begins; it is apsonage possessing so great an influence at Naples, is a great plauded with transport; but unfortunately there was a Neaposportsman, a great player at foot-ball, an indefatigable horseman; litan merchant in the pit, who sung the motivo of all the new un homme tout physique (a man made up of physical qualities.) pieces, even before the singers began them. His neighbours He possesses but one sentiment, and, it is more than probable that were all amazement. He was asked where he had heard the that sentiment itself is connected with these physical habits, and new music. "New music!" said he, why this is from Erthat is the love of hardy enterprise. As for the rest, he is a being mione and Ricciardo, things we have been applauding at Nawithout a heart either for good or evil; a being totally devoid of ples these six months. I was just going to ask you why you had all moral sensibility of every kind, as it becomes a true sportsman changed the title of the opera. The duet, Ah, nati in ver noi to be. He has been called avaricious; this is an exaggeration, siamo, which is one of the prettiest things, in Ricciardo, Roshe cannot bear to transfer a guinea from one hand to another, sini has changed into the cavatina of your new opera; and what but he will sign as many bonds upon his treasury as you please. is still better, he has not even altered the words." During the King Ferdinand had languished nine years in Sicily, imprisoned as divertisement and the ballet, this fatal piece of news was circuit were in the midst of people who were constantly annoying him lated every where, and the caffees were full of dilentanti, who with the terms parliament, finances, balance of power, and other were seen conning the matter over, and endeavouring, as well outlandish words, which he could not comprehend, and, indeed, as they could, to qualify their admiration. At Milan, such a had no wish so to do. He arrives at Naples, and lo, one of the thing would have roused the national vanity into fury; at Vefinest objects of his beloved city, that which of all others claimed nice it only raised a laugh. Ancillo, a delightful poet, penned the deepest regrets during his long absence, the magnificent theatre of San Carlo, is destroyed by fire in a single night. It upon the spot a sonnet on the unhappiness of Venice, and the is said that the monarch felt the blow more severely then the loss pressario, distracted, and with ruin staring him in the face, runs happiness of Signora Comelli. In the mean time, the poor imof a kingdom, or at least of a dozen battles. In the midst of his to look for Rossini; he finds him: "Well what did I promise despair, a man presents himself before him, who says; Sire, this immense theatre which the flames have devoured, I engage write something for you that should be applauded. This has you?" says the latter with all the sang-froid imaginable, “to to rebuild in nine months, and more beautiful than it was yes-been successful, e tanto basta. Besides, if you had but common terday." M. Barbaja kept his word. On entering the new San Carlo, 12th of January, 1817, the King of Naples for the first time during twelve years, felt himself really a king. From this moment M. Barbaja was the first man in the kingdom. This first man of the kingdom, this director of theatres, and speculator in banks for play, was also the protector of the Signora Colbrand, his first singer, who made a fool of him all day long, and of course had him entirely under her control. Signora Colbrand, now Madame Rossini, was from 1806 to 1815, one of the first singers of Europe. But voices, like other things, are not made to last for ever, and accordingly in 1815, it began to lose its power; or if we may venture to apply to her a term that is applied to vulgar singers, she began to sing false. From 1816 to 1822, Signora Colbrand usually sang a note too high or a note

sense, would you not have perceived by the soiled and worn edges of the copy, that it was only old music, I was sending you from Naples? go to, for an impressario! who ought to be more rogue than fool, and you are only the latter."

In the October of the same year appeared the Donna del Lago, on the theatre San Carlo, at Naples. The folowing is the account given of its first reception.

The public could not separate Rossini from the general discontent that was felt against M. Barbaja and the Signora Colbrand. Impatience at last rose to its height, and made itself

* What it was necessary to pay.