Mr. Frederic H. Cowen's dramatic Oratorio, Ruth, was produced last Thursday at St. James's Hall, and the verdict on the entire work from "bar one" to bar last was emphatically favourable. The Composer has nothing to regret on this score. The workmanship throughout is thoroughly good, and in some instances admirable, though the First Part is not distinguished by any very striking originality.
In the Second Part, which begins appropriately with Harvest or "Half-est time," Mr. Boaz Lloyd gave a very trying scena magnificently. But why does he pronounce "excellent" as "exceelent?" Perhaps he has ascertained on undeniable authority that this is the way Boaz would have pronounced it. À propos of this eminent tenor, on one occasion, not this, there was very nearly being a duel about his identity. An Irish gentleman, turning to his friend, informed him, "That's Sims Reeves," whereupon his better informed companion returned, "He! Lloyd!" which, but for a toimely explanation, begorra, would have led to a challenge!
To resume. The "Dance of Reapers and Gleaners" must have sounded rather out of place in Worcester Cathedral, where Ruth was first produced. In the Chorus of the Reapers and Gleaners, who were not in the least out of breath with their dance—but perhaps these had only been delighted spectators—full justice was done to the finest number in the Oratorio—at least, so it appeared to the humble individual who had the honour of representing you on this occasion. Then in the duet,
Lloyd and Albani
As Boaz and Ruth,
Were perfect, no blarney,
I'm telling the truth.
The applause was enthusiastic: indeed, not only in this instance, but throughout the performance, these two sang magnificently. Boaz must have been a very kind man; at all events, as Boaz and Ruth are invariably heard of together, it is clear that he could never be accused of being Ruthless.
Now, just one question: the Book of Words with musical phrases, is sold in the room, and on the title-page we read that "the words are selected,"—most judiciously too—by Mr. Joseph Bennett, and "the Book of Words" is fitted "with analytical notes by Joseph Bennett,"—though we should have thought that Mr. Cowen's notes were sufficient by themselves. Then we find the analytical Noter saying at the end of Part I., "The assertion may safely be made, that no poetical situation in dramatic Oratorio, has been treated more successfully than the foregoing." Now, suppose this were a book of a new Opera, would it be right and proper for the librettist who had adapted the subject from Shakspeare, for example, to give his opinion on the work of his collaborateur? Wouldn't this be taking an unfair advantage of his position? It doesn't matter in this case, as I perfectly agree with him, but it is the principle, whatever it may be, for which I contend, and sign myself,