It is only a pity that the wag should always mistake his man, and, instead of the right, invariably hit upon the wrong! But for the rest, this is after all of little consequence; for in a genuine Midsummer Night’s Dream it is proper that all things should be at cross purposes, and yet so clearly defined, that in the confusion we may distinguish the forms of the beings composing it. And here the great charm is that this is just the case in this instance. Oh! what a delightful thing is a merry dream! Suddenly the chord of the diminished seventh, that pliant and accommodating harmony, accompanied by rumbling bases, resounds through the busy scene, and one may fancy Quince exclaiming, ‘Bless thee, Bottom, bless thee, thou art translated!’ No matter! it is rather a piece of good fortune for Bottom. Although the scared artisans run off at the sight of his monstrous head, the slumbering Titania, being also under the spell of the magic floweret, on awaking beholds the transformed wight; and oh! how beautiful and intellectual does she find the agreeable beast! how lovingly does she caress him! The sprightly elves are ordered to dance to her long-eared darling, and Pea-blossom to scratch his lovely little head. Theseus now approaches with his queen of the Amazons and train of huntsmen to the sound of the horns and the barking of dogs. Things now begin to assume a clearer aspect; Bottom too is disenchanted, and it seems as if the clowns were playing Pyramus and Thisbe at the wedding. Bottom roars so that the duke says, ‘Let him roar again!’ Lysander has returned to his love; and matters end so much to our satisfaction that one cannot help exclaiming with Bottom, ‘I have had a most rare vision—I have had a dream past the wit of man to say what dream it was. Man is but an ass, if he go about to expound this dream.’ In short, the beauty of the thing is, that in its true sense, the beginning is the end and the end the beginning.
Now let the reader, who in this account may here and there have observed something of a flowery description, first of all read the Midsummer Night’s Dream; then let him take the two-handed arrangement, or the duet, as he pleases, (they are both beautiful and good; but the arrangement for four hands is the better—a circumstance, however, which ought by no means to imply a defect as regards the two-handed arrangement, for the simple reason that two is not four,) and he will be delighted with it and feel the import of the lines,
Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so,
And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.
REVIEW OF NEW MUSIC.
SIX ORIGINAL ENGLISH GLEES, for three and four voices, including the Glee which gained the Prize given by the Manchester Glee-Club, 1832, and those performed at the Concentores Society, composed by H. R. BISHOP. The Poetry by Mrs. HEMANS, JOANNA BAILLIE, J. WILSON, Esq., and Dr. JOHNSON. (Goulding and D’Almaine.)
THE Glee is our national music, is indigenous to these isles, and a beautiful species of composition however viewed; we should therefore be sorry to see it fall into anything like neglect, a danger which some few years ago seemed to be threatened, though now we trust is past, judging from the encouragement it has lately received from many associated bodies, and from its re-introduction to domestic parties, where it appears to be regaining that favour which its own merits, and the facility with which it may now be performed, ought always to command.
Mr. Bishop, though he pursued his professional studies under an Italian master, and has devoted his life chiefly to the theatre, has cultivated what in an English musician may almost be called a natural talent for glee-writing, to which, it is fair to a laudable institution to state, he has probably been partly induced by his connexion with the Concentores Society, a small club, whose sole object is the conservation of this kind of composition, and for the service of which three out of the present collection were produced.
The first glee in this volume, ‘Where shall we make her grave?’ in E