10th (of March). The Halifax Guardian states that ‘the fifty-third performance of the Halifax Quarterly Choral Society took place, in the Old Assembly Room, Talbot Inn, on Tuesday evening last. The music consisted of a selection from The Seasons of Haydn, and the whole of Beethoven’s Mount of Olives. There was a full attendance of performers, vocal and instrumental; the orchestra was led by Mr. White of Leeds, under whose able guidance the above sublime and beautiful compositions were performed with a degree of precision and spirit which is frequently wanting in concerts of much higher pretensions. Miss Milnes, the principal soprano, has not only a beautiful voice, but much execution and a pure taste; and Mr. Carter, the principal tenor, is also entitled to very high praise. The style and expression with which he sang the deeply pathetic recitative and air that open The Mount of Olives, were admirable. The other solo parts were exceedingly well performed; and we only regret that our limits do not allow us, on the present occasion, to do the singers justice. The choruses were given with great correctness, and the ensemble was excellent: the points were taken up with a decision that showed how much at home the singers were in their parts. The effect, in particular, of the grand choral fugue, which concludes The Mount of Olives, was magnificent. It is very gratifying to see this society so spiritedly conducted. It is of such standing that it may be considered in the vigour of manhood. May it be long before it shall betray any of the infirmities of old age!’
19th (of March). It has just been determined, by the most influential gentlemen of Liverpool, to have a grand musical festival in that town early in October. Let us hope that this will encourage other enterprises of the kind and raise the drooping spirits of our orchestral performers, whose time lay unprofitably on their hands during the whole of the last summer and autumn.
April 6th. One of those paragraphs which the dealer in small wares furnishes to the ‘Morning Chronicle,’ tells us, this day, that ‘Poor Giovanni, many years stage manager at the Italian Opera-House, is, we regret to hear, in the work-house. He was, in his position at the theatre, a man of modest, unassuming manners, and a great favourite behind the scenes. It is to be lamented that foreigners, who are so liberally paid by the public for the exertion of their talents in the London theatres, do not institute a fund for the support of their indigent brethren.’ Now true as it may be that Signor di Giovanni has been obliged to seek such a refuge, it was not at all necessary to add a pang to his misery by publishing it to all the world. Had the writer recommended a subscription to be opened for the relief of this unfortunate servant of the fashionable portion of the public, he might have done some good; none could arise from a mere gossiping paragraph. Di Giovanni was not at any time stage-manager; he never arrived at any higher office than that of deputy. Other parts of the article are not less incorrect. As to a fund, it was once begun, and a per centage on the salaries of the performers raised something to commence with. This was never heard of after the retreat of Mr. Waters to Calais.
10th. In an account of the Rev. Robert Hall, by Olinthus Gregory, recently published, is the following anecdote, or, indeed, two-fold anecdote, which adds further testimony to the effect produced by the music in Westminster Abbey at the far-famed Commemoration:—
‘Robert Hall,’ it is stated, ‘was at the Commemoration of Handel in 1784, and present at that extraordinary scene when George III. stood up at one part of the performance with tears in his eyes.’ Nothing ever affected him more strongly; ‘It seemed,’ he said, ‘like a great act of national assent to the fundamental truths of religion.’
It was at one of the grand performances in the same venerable building, a few years after, that Haydn was observed sitting in a corner under a side gallery, weeping like a child, and he declared that he had never before been so powerfully affected by music.