Wilhelm Meister met with Mignon when she was only ten years of age, and in the employ of a show-man, who treated her with great severity. Meister redeemed her from her master, and afforded her his protection. She ever after called him 'father,' 'protector,' and became violently attached to him," a passion which was not returned. She always entertained a mysterious longing for Italy, and her wish to repair to that country with Meister inspired her song. We will only add, that her protector having entered into a matrimonial engagement, Mignon, on hearing of the circumstance, dropped down, and instantly expired.

The following is the original German :—

Das Glückliche Land.

1.

Kennst du das Land wo die Zitronen blühn,—
Im dunkeln Laub die gold Orangen glühn,-
Ein sanfter Wind vom blauen Himmel weht,-
Die Myrthe still und hoch der Lorbeer steht?

Kennst du es wohl? Dahin! dahin! Mücht' ich, mit dir, O mein Gelichter, ziehn!

2.

Kennst du das Haus auf Säulen ruht sein Dach,-
Es glänst der Saal, es schimmert das Gemach,-
Und Marmorbilder stehn und sehn mich an,
Was hat man dir die armes kind gethan?

Kennst du es wohl? Dahin! dahin! Möcht' ich mit dir, O mein beschützer, ziehn! 3.

Kennst du den Berg und seinen Wolkensteg,-
Das Moulthier sucht in Nebel seinen weg,—
In höhlen wohnt der Drachen alte Brut,-
Es stürzt der Fels, und über ihn der Fluth?

Kennst du ihn wohl? Dahin! dahin! Geht unser weg, O Vater lass, uns zieh'n.

THOMAS WEELKES,

Organist of Winchester, and afterwards of Chichester, was author of madrigals to three, four, five, and six voices, printed in 1597. He also published, in 1598, Ballats and Madrigals to Five Voices, with one to Six Voices; and in 1600, Madrigals of Six Parts, apt for the Viols and Voices. He likewise composed services and anthems. There is extant also a work entitled " Ayeres, or Phantasticke Spirits, for Three voices, made and newly published by Thomas Weelkes, Gentleman of his Majesty's Chapell, Bachelor of Musicke, and Organist of the Cathedral Church of Chichester, Lond. 1608." This collection contains a song for six voices, entitled, "A Remembrance of my Friend, M. Thomas Morley." (Hawkins, iii. 362.)

Sometimes a single note I swell,

That softly sweet at distance dies;
Then wake the magic of my shell,

When choral voices round me rise:
The trembling youth, charm'd by my strain,
Calls up the crew, who silent bend
O'er the high deck, but list in vain :—-
My song is hush'd, my wonders end.

The poetry by Mrs. Radcliffe.

ANN RADCLIFFE,

the universally-known author of The Mysteries of Udolpho, The Italians, The Romance of the Forest, &c., was born in London in 1764. Her maiden name was Ward, and she married Wm. Radcliffe, Esq., an Oxford graduate, who studied for the bar, but becoming proprietor of the English Chronicle, devoted himself to the editing of that paper. Mrs. Radcliffe died in 1823. The music is by C. KELLER, a composer and master of reputation in Germany, though we are not in possession of any particulars relating to him. The air to which we have adapted the above words, begins Der holden Blumen bunter Schimmer.' The author calls it a rondo, and directs it to be performed in Tempo di Bolero.

ALGERINE MUSIC.

THE Letters from the South, in the last few numbers of The New Monthly Magazine, avowedly from the pen of one of the best poets of this Augustan age, Campbell, have been very generally read, and as generally admired for the information they convey on matters with which we are very little acquainted, and for the lively, unaffected style in which they are written. The author viewed every thing with the eye of a poet, and describes what he saw with the pen of one; while, without wishing to appear profound, his remarks often betray the depth of his reflections and the philosophic spirit which animated him in his inquiries.

Much pleased with all he has said on the subject of that ancient abomination-the seat of reckless, systematized piracy— now become a French colony, we nevertheless have as a matter of course directed our attention chiefly to what he has said on the music of the Algerines, or more properly speaking, perhaps, on the music of the Arabs.

M. De Laborde, in his voluminous Essai sur la Musique, says, that among the Turks and Arabs, people of any distinction think it beneath them to learn music and dancing; hence the slow progress made by them in arts which have arrived at such a degree of perfection in Europe. However, not all the singers and musicians of the east are in a state of ignorance on these subjects.

The sailors are commonly the best musicians of Arabia, continues the same historian, but their songs are as dull as uniform. They always compare their mistresses to the cucumbers of Damas, and their large black eyes to the eyes of the gazelle, while they are equally eloquent in praise of their yellow hands and red nails. All their airs are sung alternately; that is, one sings a couplet, the others then repeat the same words and air, three, four or even five notes lower; and when they have not a tambourine to beat the measure, they give it by clapping their hands.

Nearly all their airs are simple and grave; they require the performers to articulate so distinctly, that every word is thoroughly understood, a practice which we in Europe should do well to

imitate.

While on a continental tour of pleasure, a mere accident led Mr. Campbell to visit the northern shores of Africa; and his residence at Algiers was rendered so agreeable by the marked attentions he received from the French officers stationed there, that, prolonging his stay far beyond the time he originally intended to remain, he passed more than twelve months in the new settlement of our neighbours. By a curious coincidence, his friend the Chevalier Neükomm was led to the same place, and there found the English poet. The two soon combined their talents: Mr. Campbell wrote an ode, M. Neükomm set it to music, and it was performed in the house of Mr. St. John, the English consul residing at Algiers, much to the delight of many French officers, and some of the principal Turks and native inhabitants, who were invited to hear the joint production of the English and German visitors.

We now proceed to extract Mr. Campbell's account, and specimens of the music-whether it be called Algerine or Arabwhich he heard during his stay on the coast of Barbary.

'To start a livelier subject than tombs and epitaphs-I have transcribed for you a few Algerine melodies. I expressed to you a mean opinion of the native music, and if you heard it fiddled and flageoleted by the minstrels here, I think you would not blame me for fastidiousness. They certainly execute their tunes like executioners. At the same time, I imagine I have undervalued the intrinsic merit of their music, from the wretchedness of its performers; for incomparably better judges than myself tell me, that many of the native airs are expressive and pleasing. Madame de Verger says so, and such is the opinion also of my inspired and valued friend, the Chevalier Neukomm, whom I have met at Algiers. Of all happy incidents, that which I least expected in Africa was to meet this great man-the nephew of Haydn, worthy of his uncle-the composer whose touches on the organ are poetry and religion put into sound. He has crossed the Mediterranean merely to visit his friends the De Vergers. Colonel De Verger called on me the other day, bringing the Neukomm with him; I need not tell you how I greeted him-we talked about Algerine music, and he told me that he found something in it which he liked for being natural and characteristic. I said, " You surprise me, Chevalier; then I suppose you can admire even our Highland bagpipes?" " Nay," said Neukomm, "don't despise your native pibrochs; they have in them the stirrings of rude but strong nature. When you traverse a Highland glen you must not expect the breath of roses, but must be contented with the smell of heath: in like manner, even Highland music has its rude, wild charms."

'Well, upon reflection, his words seemed to confirm me in the opinion that the greatest artists are the ablest discoverers of merit, be it ever so rude and faint, in works of art. Our poets, Scott and Gray, could discover genius in barbarous ballads that had eluded the obtuseness of common critics. Our sculptor Flaxman walked among the uncouth statuary of old English cathedrals, where defects of drawing and proportion are obvious to the eyes of a child. A surface critic would have derided those monuments; but Flaxman's eye penetrated beyond their shape into their spirit-he divined what the sculptor had meant, and discovered tender and sublime expression. I send you a few native airs. The words are not even an attempt at poetry-but mere nonsense verses to point out the measure.

Allegretto.

4

Joy to

day!

banish

Since my return to England, I gave the above airs to a friend who is a thorough master both of the science and history of music; he has set them to European accompaniments. Though Madame de Verger had the goodness to transcribe these tunes for me, I never had the good fortune to hear her sing or play them, and could judge of them only as they were performed on the wretched native instruments. But when my friend A- had set a bass to them, and played them on the piano-forte, I could at once discern that they are not without beauty. They remind me of Scotch tunes, though not of those of the first order.

'My friend says, in a note to me, "You must have misunderstood what Madame de Verger said about the rhythm. Bad execution might obscure it to your ear, but it could not to hers. No. 4, however, is a little faulty, strictly speaking, in rhythm."

"The Arabians," my friend adds, "never had harmony in their music. They doubled their instruments and voices, and sang and played in octaves; but of that which constitutes the charm of modern composition, they seem to have been as ignorant as the Greeks.

"There is a remarkable resemblance between the Arabian and modern scales, and this is still more striking on examining the three Arabic characters by which each interval of the scale is marked. These intervals the Arabs called dourr mofassal, i. e. pearls separated."'

A COMPOSER'S REMARKS ON MUSIC.

IN the Musical Library, four compositions by JACKSON of Exeter have already appeared, and two others, at least, will follow. Originality and grace are his attributes: there is in his works a total absence of those phrases,-cant phrases, they may be called,-which, though fashionable and admired at the time, soon became vulgar and distasteful. He wrote not only for his own age, but for future ages. He is already admitted into the list of classical English composers, and will hereafter, when the venerable garb of antiquity is thrown over him, be better known and more esteemed than at the present period; though even now, all real judges of musical excellence justly appreciate his best productions.

William Jackson was decried by his professional contemporaries, for he was superior to most of them in genius, and infinitely beyond them in education, and in those attainments which become a gentleman. He was a critic too, and wrote as well as said pungent things. We have been told by those who knew him. well, that he was occasionally very indiscreet, and, without provocation, expressed himself in language neither justified by the laws of good manners, nor easily forgotten. This we mention, not for the purpose of reviving what is now almost forgotten, but to account for the cold language in which musical people, generally, speak of him and his works, and for the comparative neglect with which even the best of them are treated.

The mind of Jackson was of large calibre; it was powerful and active; he thought for himself, and commonly thought right. His Thirty Letters on various Subjects, and his Four Ages, together with Essays on various Subjects, display the extent of his knowledge, the correctness of his judgment, and the originality of his conceptions. From those volumes music is not wholly excluded, though it occupies only a small portion of them. But what he has written on the subject is so much to the point, his criticism is so just, and he has expressed his opinions in such easy, appropriate language, that we feel it a duty to make further known the principles which he has indirectly endeavoured to inculcate; reserving to ourselves the right to differ from the author in what he has advanced concerning the influence of music in exciting passion.

Of the Thirty Letters three are on the art he professed. These we now reprint from the third edition of his work, a work become exceedingly scarce, and give a title to each in accordance with the subject on which the author treats. And in our next, or an early Number, propose to insert the three Essays relating to music, from The Four Ages.

ON MUSICAL EXPRESSION.

TRUE, my friend, musicians do commit strange absurdities by way of expression, but fanciful people make them commit others which they never thought of.

The most common mistake of composers is to express words and not ideas. This is generally the case with Purcel, and frequently the case with Handel. I believe there is not a single piece existing of the former, if it has a word to be played upon, but will prove my assertion; and the latter, if the impetuosity of the musical subject will give him leave, will at any time quit it for a pun. There is no trap so likely to catch composers as the words high and low, down and up. "By G-," as Quin says, "they must bite." In what raptures was Purcel when he set "They that go down to the sea in ships." How lucky a circumstance, that there was a singer at that time, who could go down

The 3d edition of the Thirty Letters was published in one vol. 8vo. in 1795; The Four Ages appeared in the same form, in 1798.

wished to do in beauty, I know not; but this is certain, that these pieces are so crowded with parts, and so awkwardly barbarous, as to render the performance of them impossible-so natural is it, even in the infancy of art, to mistake difficulty for beauty.

This is trifling with the words and neglecting the sentiment; but the fault is much increased when a word is expressed in contradiction to the sentiment. A most flagrant instance of this is in Boyce's Solomon, in the song of "Arise, my Fair One, come away." The hero of the piece is inviting his mistress to come to him, and to tempt her the more, in describing the beauty of the spring, he tells her that

Stern winter's gone, with all its train

Of chilling frosts and dropping rain,

But it is come, in the music-the unlucky words of winter, frost, and rain, made the composer set the lover a shivering, when he was full of the feelings of the "genial ray!"

But sometimes expression of the sentiment is blameable, if such expression is improper for the general effect of the piece. Religious solemnity should not appear at the theatre, nor theatrical levity at the church. In the Stabat Mater of Pergolesi, and in the Messiah of Handel, there is an expression of whipping attempted, which, if it be understood at all, conveys either a ludicrous or profane idea, according to the disposition of the hearer. Permit me to suspend my remarks a moment, just to observe, that there is sometimes mention made in plays, of Providence, God, and other subjects, which are as incompatible with a place of public entertainment, as the common sentiments of plays are with the church. If we are disgusted at a theatrical preacher, we are not less offended when an actor heightens all these ill-placed sentiments-forcing them upon your notice by an affectation of a deep sense of religion, and most solemnly preaching the sermon which the poet so improperly wrote.

All these, and many more, are faults which musicians really commit; but a connoisseur will make them guilty of others, by way of compliment, which the composers never dreamt of. The introduction of the Coronation Anthem, "Zadok the Priest," is an arpeggio, which Handel probably took from his own performance at the harpsichord; but a great judge says, it is to express the murmurs of the people assembled in the abbey. "All we like sheep are gone astray," in the Messiah, is considered as most excellently expressing the breaking out of sheep from a field. But out of pity to the connoisseurs I will not increase my instances, God forbid I should rob any man of his criticism.

Lest I should encroach upon your premises, I will quit such dangerous ground, and leave you with more celerity than cere

mony.

ON CATCHES.

THE productions of genius require some ages to be brought to perfection. The liberal arts have their infancy, youth, and manhood; and, to carry on the allusion, continue some time in a state of strength, and then verge by degrees to a decline, which at last ends in a total extinction. The English language, poetry and music, exhibit proofs of this observation, as far as they have hitherto gone with the two former I have at present nothing to do, but shall confine what I have to say on this subject to the latter.

What the music of the times preceding Henry VIII. was I confess myself ignorant, nor indeed is the knowledge of it necessary; we may conclude that it was more barbarous than that of the sixteenth century, as the times in which it was used were less enlightened. Some masses, motets, and madrigals are what have reached us, consisting merely in a succession of chords without art or meaning, and perfectly destitute of air.

In Elizabeth's reign appeared some composers, Tallis, Bird, Morley, and Farrant, who improved the barren style of their predecessors: they had more choice in their harmony, and made some little advances in melody. There were some pieces of instrumental music composed at this time which still exist; particularly a book of lessons for the virginals, which was the

I do not recollect any composer that really improved music for the first half of the seventeenth century, except Orlando Gibbons, of whom a service for the church, and two or three anthems remain, the harmony of which is good, and the melody, for the times, pleasing. In the "Gloria Patri" of the Nunc dimittis is the best canon, in my judgment, that was ever made. Gibbons was also a composer for the virginals, but in no respect better than his predecessors. I believe it was about this time that the species of canon called the catch, was produced. The intent of my making this short recapitulation of the former state of music is purely prefatory to what I have to say upon the subject of catches.

This odd species of composition, whenever invented, was brought to its perfection by Purcell. Real music was as yet in its childhood; but the reign of Charles II. carried every kind of vulgar debauchery to its height: the proper æra for the birth of such pieces as, "when quartered, have ever three parts obscenity, and one part music."

The definition of a catch is a piece for three or more voices, one of which leads, and the others follow in the same notes. It must be so contrived, that rests (which are made for that purpose) in the music of one line, be filled up with a word or two from another line; these form a cross-purpose or catch, from whence the name. Now, this piece of wit is not judged perfect, if the result be not the rankest indecency.

Perhaps this definition may be objected to, and I may be told that there are catches perfectly harmless. It is true that some pieces are called catches that have nothing to offend, and others that may justly pretend to please; but they want what is absolutely necessary for a catch-the break, and cross-purpose.

It may also be said, that the result of the break is not always indecency. I confess there are catches upon other subjects: drunkenness is a favourite one; which, though good, is not so very good as the other: and there may possibly be found one or two upon other topics, which might be heard without disgust; but these are not sufficient to contradict a general rule, or make me retract what I have advanced.

I will next examine their musical merit,-and this, as compositions, must consist either in their harmony or melody, or their effect in performance.

The harmony of a catch is nothing more than the common result of filling up a chord; there is not contrivance enough to make it esteemed as a piece of ingenuity. "What! they are all canons!" So is every tune in the world, if you will set it in three or more parts, and sing these parts in succession, as a catchbut a real canon is not so easily produced; it is one of those difficult trifles which costs an infinite deal of labour, and after all is worth nothing. The excellence in the composition of a catch consists in making the breaks, and filling them up properly. The melody is, for the most part, the unimproved vulgar drawl of the times of ignorance.

Let us next attend to the manner of performance. One voice leads, a second follows, and a third, &c., succeeds, unaccompanied with any instrument to keep them in tune together. The consequence is, that the voices are always sinking; but not equally, for the best singer will keep nearest the pitch, and the others depart farthest from it. If the parts are doubled, which is sometimes the case, all these defects are multiplied. To this, let there be added the imperfect scale of an uncultivated voice, the departing from the real sound by way of humour, the noise of so many people striving to out-sing each other, the confusion of speaking different words at the same time, and all this heightened by the laughing and other accompaniments of the audience-it presents such a scence of savage folly, as would not disgrace the Hottentots indeed, but is not much to the credit of a company of civilized people.

As the catch in a manner owed its existence to a drunken club, of which some musicians were members; upon their dying, it languished for years, and was scarce known except among choirmen, who now and then kept up the spirit of their forefathers. As the age grew more polished, a better style of music appeared.

Corelli gave a new turn to instrumental music, and was successfully followed by Geminiani and Handel: the last excellent in

vocal as well as instrumental music.

There have been refinements and confessed improvements upon all these great men since; and at this time there are much better performers, and certainly more elegant, though perhaps less solid

composers.

Now, if this were speculation only, is it credible that taste should revert to barbarism? Its natural death is to be frittered away in false refinement; and yet, contrary to experience in every other instance, we have gone back a century, and catches flourish in the reign of George III. There is a club composed of some of the first people in the kingdom, who meet professedly to hear this species of composition; they cultivate it and encourage it with premiums. To obtain which, many composers, who ought to be above such nonsense, become candidates, and produce such things

one knows not what to call, Their generation 's so equivocal. Sometimes a piece makes its appearance that was lately found by accident, after a concealment of one hundred and fifty years. When it is approved, and declared too excellent for these degenerate days, the author smiles and owns it. I scarce ever saw one of these things that did not betray itself, within three bars, to be modern. All ancient music has an awkward barbarity in its first conception and structure, which, in these days of refinement, it is almost impossible to imitate, so as to deceive a real judge of the subject.

I profess that I never heard a catch sung, but I felt more ashamed than I can express. I pretend to no more delicacy than that of the age I live in, which is very properly too refined to endure such barbarisms-I was ashamed for myself-for my company-and if a foreigner was present-for my country.

It has just occurred to me that you like catches, and frequently help to sing them-revenge yourself for the liberties I have taken, by compelling me to hear some of these pleasant ditties, when perhaps I may be forced to sing in my own defence.

Adieu, &c.

P. S. If you should have a design to convert me, take me to the catch-club. I confess and honour the superior excellence of its performance, while I lament that so noble a subscription should be lavished for so poor a purpose as keeping alive musical false-wit, when it might so powerfully support and encourage the best style of composition; and rather advance our taste by anticipating the improvement of the coming age, than force it back to times of barbarism, from which it has cost us such pains to emerge *.

THE PASSIONS NOT EXCITED BY MUSIC.

Is there not something very fanciful in the analogy which some people have discovered between the arts? I do not deny the commune quoddam vinculum, but would keep the principle within its proper bounds.

Poetry and painting, I believe, are only allied to music and to each other; but music, besides having the above-named ladies for sisters, has astronomy and geometry for brothers, and grammar for a cousin, at least.

The intervals of an octave have been made to illustrate the

seven primitive rays of light, and the old planetary system. Seven is one of the mystical numbers, it has hidden meanings and connexions which are unknown but to those who are deep in the sciences-though we all know that there are seven wise masters, seven wise mistresses, seven wonders of the Peak, and seven wonders of the world.

Music is also supposed to have a command over the passions. This is a doctrine of great antiquity, and has existed to the present times. Timotheus, in Dryden's ode, inspires Alexander with pity, love, rage, and every other passion to which the human heart is subject.

"What passion cannot music raise or quell?" says Pope; and

The subject of this letter has been much misunderstood. It is considered as a bitter philippic against singing in parts, and musical effusions of mirth in company. The letter itself, warranting no such construction, is the only reply I shall make to this accusation, except remarking, that it is not the mirth of the catch which is reproved, but its vulgarity. Nor do the observations extend to those pieces in parts which are not catches, as has been imagined. Can it be supposed that the author, who has published so many compositions for two, three, and four voices, would endeavour to establish principles to prevent their being performed, and make his own works the object of his satire ?

the same thought has been so often expressed, and is now so generally adopted by all poets and writers on this subject, that it would be a bold attempt to contradict it, were there not an immediate appeal to our experience and feelings, which must be held superior to authority of ever so long prescription.

Thus supported, then, I ask in my turn-" What passion can music raise or quell?" Whoever felt himself affected, otherwise than with pleasure, at those strains which are supposed to inspire grief-rage-joy-or pity? and this, in a degree, equal to the goodness of the composition and performance. The effect of music, in this instance, is just the same as of poetry. We attend —are pleased-delighted-transported-and when the heart can bear no more, " glow, tremble, and weep." All these are but different degrees of pure pleasure. When a poet or musician has produced this last effect, he has attained the utmost in the power of poetry or music.

Tears being a general expression of grief, pain, and piety; and music, when in its perfection, producing them, has occasioned the mistake of its raising the passions of grief, &c. But tears, in fact, are nothing but the mechanical effect of every strong affection of the heart, and produced by all the passions-even joy and rage. It is this effect, and the pleasurable sensation together, which Ossian (ancient or modern as you please) calls "the joy of grief." It is this effect, when produced by some grand image, which Dr. Blair, his critic, styles the "sublime and pathetic." And this will explain why the tyrant shed tears at a tragedy of Euripides, who was insensible to the sufferings of his subjects.

I

I have chosen to illustrate these observations from poetry rather than from music, because it is more generally understood and more easily quoted; but the principle, though powerful in poetry, is certainly strongest in music. Painting does not impress the eye with any sensation of sufficient force to excite this effect. never saw tears shed by any person looking at a picture-from hence it may be justly inferred that the sensations from painting are less strong and tumultuous than those from poetry and music. Adieu, &c.

THE IMPROVED DOUBLE-DRUMS.

In our last volume (pages 88 and 101) we noticed a great improvement made in the double-drum, by which the performer is enabled to tune the instrument by a key acting at once on the whole skin, instead of being applied, as heretofore, to several screws fixed on the rim of the drum; and to alter its pitch almost instantaneously, so as to be capable of meeting any change of key, or mode, during the actual performance of any piece in which the instrument is employed. By this ingenious contrivance many notes are added to the scale of the drum, a greater degree of precision is acquired, and by the simultaneous straining of the head, or vellum, a more uniform tension is produced, and the vibrations are more equal in quality.

The inventor-Mr. Charles Ward-of this new method, the utility of which is undisputed and indisputable, having exhibited his improved drum to the Society of Arts, that active and useful body, on the recommendation of their Committee of Mechanics, voted him their gold Isis medal, as a testimony to the merit of his very important invention."

The following is a copy of the resolution which governed the society in its decision: