AN AMATEUR’S MUSICAL PARTY AT THE FREEMASONS’ TAVERN.
THE name of an accomplished Devonshire baronet (Sir John Rogers) has frequently appeared in the Harmonicon, during the last two or three years; those, therefore, of its readers who have not the pleasure of his personal acquaintance, are, nevertheless, fully aware of his musical acquirements. But only his more immediate friends and associates, who have heard most if not all of his anthems, madrigals, and glees, can justly appreciate his merit as a composer.
On Saturday the 6th of April, a musical party dined with this distinguished amateur at the Freemasons’ Tavern. Upwards of forty of his private and professional friends were invited, among whom were Lord Saltoun, Mr. Capel, Sir Andrew Bernard, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Gwilt, Mr. Ayrton, Mr. Vaughan, Mr. C. Freeling, Mr. Milne, Mr. W. Linley, Col. Rogers, Mr. Sanford, the Rev. F. Hamilton, Mr. Horsley, Mr. Terrail, Mr. Oliphant, Mr. T. Welsh, Mr. J. B. Sale, Mr. Bellamy, Mr. Leete, Mr. Hawes, Mr. King, Mr. Goss, Mr. J. Jolly, Mr. Pye, Mr. Novello, Mr. Turle, Mr. Horncastle, Mr. Hobbs, Mr. A. Novello, Mr. C. Evans, Mr. M’Murdie, Mr. Nicks, Mr. Bates, Mr. Elliott, Mr. Brownsmith, Mr. Streete, Mr. Walmisley, Mr. Gedye, Mr. Spencer, Mr. Moxley, &c. An excellent dinner was put on the table at half-past five, the worthy host, of course, presiding. When the cloth was withdrawn, a Grace, ‘For these and all his mercies,’ composed by the president, (a canon three in one,) was sung by all the company, and not only pronounced, but felt by every one present, to be an exceedingly clever, effective production, remarkable not merely for technical skill, but also for the elegant simplicity, the vocality of the subject; and melody, so necessary an ingredient in all good compositions, is but rarely to be found in that species denominated canon.
After grace, the last Gresham prize-anthem, for five voices and chorus, composed by Mr. Kellow John Pye of Exeter, was performed, and received with richly-deserved plaudits, which must have proved highly gratifying and encouraging to the author, who was present and gave the time of the several movements. The other pieces sung during the evening, thirteen in number, came—many of them quite fresh—from the pen of the talented baronet.
Our limits do not allow us to enter critically into the merits of each composition; to pass them all in silence would be unjust; and yet it is difficult to say which is best where all show such superiority of genius, knowledge, and taste, and we mention the four following merely as specimens or samples of the whole. 1. A canon, six in two, ‘Lighten our darkness,’ a very masterly production, such as none but a good theorist, possessed of a rich imagination, could have written. 2. ‘When I listen to thy voice,’ an admirable glee for five voices. We had heard this before, at the Hanover Square Rooms, and hope frequently to meet with it. 3. ‘Hears not, my Phillis,’ and 4. ‘Oh! how I long my careless limbs to lay,’ two madrigals, each for six voices, of which we will remark—parodying what Dr. Johnson says of Homer and his translator Pope—if the author of ‘Sweet honey-sucking bees’ were to class his successors, he would assign a very high place to the writer of these madrigals, without requiring any other evidence of genius.
By a reference to the list of visiters it will be seen how many of our principal vocalists were present; and to these were added four of the young choristers of Westminster Abbey: it is, therefore, unnecessary to state, except in justice to them, that the several pieces were executed in the most perfect manner. The performers exerted themselves con amore, and the pleasure they so evidently felt was doubly enjoyed by those who listened to the united excellence of composition and performance.
N.
Our conjecture is that the foregoing comes from the pen of a musician, and we are rejoiced to find a professional man able and willing to proclaim the merit of an amateur composer. It is too much the practice in the present day for musicians par métier to undervalue, to sneer at the compositions of such as do not directly or indirectly gain a livelihood by their productions, it not being considered—or perhaps the fact is endeavoured to be concealed—that those who to a sufficiency of musical science and experience add the fruits of education and cultivation, are much more likely to excel than such as have no knowledge beyond their own art; or, rather, who know their own art but imperfectly; for to understand any art or science well, it is absolutely necessary to have acquired a considerable share of subsidiary knowledge, not only for the sake of bringing that knowledge to bear upon the main object, but also because the mind is invigorated in proportion to the quantity of information it has received. The compositions of the worthy baronet, to whose hospitality as well as talents we are, it is our belief, indebted for the above pleasant communication, show how far an intellect strengthened by real learning, and refined by many accomplishments, soars above minds not so improved. Of the madrigal, ‘Oh! how I long my weary limbs to lay,’ we have no reluctance in saying, that any living professional composer, who would attempt to compete with it, must have more confidence in his own ability than we have in his chance of successful rivalry.