festivals are now looked forward to by the lovers of music in England.

In the middle of the last century there was probably no town in Belgium more frequented than the ancient and honourable collegiate town of Louvain. Its university has always had a splendid reputation, and at this day can boast of some of the most learned men in Europe. Its town-hall, a miracle of the thirteenthcentury Gothic, is one of the most remarkable buildings of that age. The oak carving in its churches, especially that of Ste. Gertrude, is of unsurpassed richness, and attests the enormous wealth formerly lavished by the Louvainiers upon their churches. library is the best kept and most interesting in Belgium, and the set of bells in St. Peter's Church, if not the finest, can at least boast of having for many years been presided over by the greatest carillonneur and one of the most truly illustrious composers of the eighteenth century, Matthias van den Gheyn.

The

On the 1st July, 1745, the town of Louvain was astir at an early hour: the worthy citizens might be seen chatting eagerly at their shop doors, and the crowds of visitors who had been pouring into the town the day before were gathering in busy groups in the great square of Louvain, which is bounded on one side by the town-hall, and on the other by the church of St. Peter's. Amongst the crowd might be observed not only many of the most eminent musicians in Belgium, but nobles, connoisseurs, and musical amateurs, who had assembled from all parts of the

country to hear the great competition for the important post of carillonneur to the town of Louvain.

All the principal organists of the place were to compete and amongst them a young man aged twentyfour, the organist of St. Peter's, who was descended from the great family of bell-founders in Belgium, and whose name was already well known throughout the country, Matthias van den Gheyn.

The nobility, the clergy, the magistrates, the burgomasters, in short, the powers civil and ecclesiastical, had assembled in force to give weight to the proceedings. As the hour approached, not only the great square but all the streets leading to it became densely thronged, and no doubt the demand for windows at Louvain, over against St. Peter's tower, was as great as the demand for balconies in the city of London on Lord Mayor's day.

Each competitor was to play at sight the airs which were to be given to him at the time, and the same pieces were to be given to each in turn. To prevent all possible collusion between the jury and the players, no preludes whatever were to be permitted before the performance of the pieces, nor were the judges to know who was playing at any given moment. Lots were to be cast in the strictest secrecy, and the players were to take their seats as the lots fell upon them. The names of the trial pieces have been preserved, and the curiosity of posterity may derive some satisfaction from the perusal of the following list, highly characteristic of the musical taste of that epoch (1745) in Belgium.

"La Folie d'Hispanie," "La Bergerie," "Caprice," and one "" Andante."

M. Loret got through his task very creditably. Next to him came M. Leblancq, who completely broke down in "La Bergerie," being unable to read the music. M. van Driessche came third and gave general satisfaction. M. de Laet was fourth, but he too found the difficulties of "La Bergerie" insuperable, and gave it up in despair. Lastly came Matthias van den Gheyn, but before he had got through his task the judges and the great assembly besides had probably made up their minds; there was no comparison between him and his predecessors. Loret and Van Driessche, both eminent professors, were indeed placed second, and the rest were not worth placing, but beyond all shadow of a doubt the last competitor was the only man worthy to make carillon music for the town and neighbourhood of Louvain, and accordingly Van den Gheyn was duly installed in the honourable post of carillonneur, which he held conjointly with that of organist at the church of St. Peter's. His duties consisted in playing the bells every Sunday for the people, also on all the regular festivals of the Church, on the municipal feast days, besides a variety of special occasions, in short, whenever the town thought fit. He was bound to have his bells in tune, and forbidden to allow any one to take his place as deputy on the great occasions. His salary was small, but there were extra fees awarded him upon great occasions, and on the whole he doubtless found his

post tolerably lucrative, without being by any means a

sinecure.

It is a comfort to think that this great genius was not destined always to spend himself upon the trivially popular airs of the period, such as appear to have been chosen for his ordeal.

The indefatigable efforts of the Chevalier van Elewyck have resulted in the discovery and restoration to the world of more than fifty compositions belonging to this great master, who has indeed had a narrow escape of being lost to posterity. We quite agree with MM. Lemmens and Fétis that some of the “Morceaux Fugués" (now for the first time published, by Schott et Cie., Brussels, and Regent Street, London) are quite equal, as far as they go, to similar compositions by Handel and Bach; at the same time they have a striking individuality and almost wild tenderness and poetry peculiarly their own. As there is no reason why these splendid compositions should any longer be forgotten, we shall make no apology for alluding to some of their prominent characteristics. And, in the first place, let us say that they are wonderful examples of what may be inspired by bells, and of the kind of music which is alone capable of making an effect upon the carillon.

The "Morceaux Fugués," though quite elaborate enough for the piano and organ, were actually played by Van den Gheyn upon the bells. They are bell-like in the extreme, full of the most plaintive melody, and

marked by peculiar effects, which nothing but bells can render adequately. If ever we are to have effective carillon music, these compositions and their general laws must be closely studied. The difficulty of arranging and harmonizing tunes for bells seems to baffle all attempts hitherto made in England. The resonance of the bell renders so much impracticable that upon piano or organ is highly effective. The sounds run into each other and horrid discords result unless the harmonies are skilfully adapted to the peculiarities of bell sound.

In this adaptation Van den Gheyn, as we might suppose, is a master, but such a master as it is quite impossible for any one to conceive who has not closely studied his carillon music. One great secret of bellplaying, overlooked in the setting of all our barrels, is to avoid ever striking even the two notes of a simple third quite simultaneously. Let any one take two small bells, or even two wine-glasses tuned to a third. Let him strike them exactly at the same time, and he will hardly get the sound of a third at all; he will only get a confused medley of vibrations: but let him strike one ever so little before or after the other, and the ear will instantly receive so definite an impression of a third, that however the sounds may mix afterwards, the musical sense will rest satisfied. We are not now concerned with the reasons of this, it is simply a fact; and of course the same rule holds good in a still greater degree with reference to sixths and chords of three or more notes, when struck upon bells