Sinfonia, No. 4. BEETHOVEN.
Aria, Signor Zuchelli, ‘Mentre ti lascio.’ MOZART.
Concerto, piano-forte, M. Herz. HERZ.
Scena, Madame Malibran, ‘Non più di fiori.’ Corno di bassetto obligato, M. Willman. MOZART.
Overture, composed expressly for the Philharmonic Society, and first time of performance. F. MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.

ACT II.

Sinfonia in G minor. MOZART.
Aria, Madame Cinti Damoreau, ‘Sento un interna voce,’ (Elisabetta.) ROSSINI.
First Concerto Violin, M. De Beriot. DE BERIOT.
Duetto, Madame Cinti Damoreau and Madame Malibran, ‘Vanne, se alberghi in petto.’ (Andronico.) MERCADANTE.
Overture. (Egmont.) BEETHOVEN.

Leader, Mr. Weichsel.—Conductor, Mr. Bishop.

The symphony in B flat of Beethoven, though less known than two or three of his others, is inferior to none in beauty, and in that kind of originality which does not strike the hearer who is content to enjoy without inquiring into the remoter causes of his pleasure. Both this and Mozart’s in G minor, which it is needless to praise, were performed and received with a warmth of feeling that acts by reciprocation, and is a cause, a main one, of the acknowledged, the vast superiority of the instrumental performances at these concerts. The overture by M. Mendelssohn in C, declares itself the offspring of genius and knowledge. Its rapidity and, what appears, wildness, render an analysis of it impossible, without either frequent hearing or an examination of the work on paper; we therefore venture no further opinion of it than the very general one we now express.

Great curiosity was excited to hear M. Herz, whose name has for some time past been pretty well known in all the music-shops of Europe. To those who consider mechanical dexterity, or that sort of command of the key-board which persevering labour is sure to bestow, the perfection of piano-forte playing,—or, in other words, to such as think what is termed execution the only reasonable aim and desirable end of music,—this gentleman must appear the realization of the beau-ideal of a performer: the neatness with which, without any apparent effort, he does extraordinary feats, is surprising—quite as astonishing as some things accomplished by Paganini on the violin, and equally valuable, in the eyes of those who ground their judgment on anything like sound principle. He crosses his hands, he weaves his fingers, with the cleverness of a juggler; an automaton constructed by Maelzel could hardly surpass him in precision. He invents and masters passages which the greatest musicians never dreamt of, which the best players never did and never will attempt, and is a most successful rival of that self-playing piano-forte which is manufactured and to be purchased somewhere in London within sound of Bow-bell. But with those who think that sentiment or expression,—that taste, that rich harmony, that air ‘che nell’ anima si sente,’ are all or any of them essential to good music, M. Herz has small chance of becoming a favourite. To which party the majority of our readers belong, we only know by conjecture: we lay the case before them in the best way that our ability will permit, and respectfully leave them to guess our opinion. The concerto performed by M. Herz is in C minor, and at least on a par with most of the other compositions by the same author.

M. de Beriot’s concerto, though not as a composition equal to that he played on the sixth night, proved highly gratifying to his audience, for his performance was marked by excellencies in which he has no rival. He was greeted with acclamations.

Not less animated were the applauses that followed the scena of Mozart, ‘Ecco il punto,’ and aria, ‘Non più di fiori,’ in which Madame Malibran displayed a compass of voice, (from A below to A above the treble staff,) a power in delivering this fine recitative, and a correctness of taste in the execution of the air, that, altogether, we never knew equalled. In the duet, which is one of the best things that Mercadante has produced, the two ladies were quite equal in their respective styles, and established a just right to the almost enthusiastic approbation they met with. The aria sung by Signor Zuchelli, a clever composition, is among the Operngesaenge of Mozart, but he was not at home in it: probably he had not had time enough to study it sufficiently. He was nearly overpowered, too, by an unmercifully loud accompaniment, a fault, and a very glaring one, in these concerts, which the directors ought to have corrected. Most of the audience stayed to hear the profound overture to Egmont, which terminated a remarkably fine and universally admired concert.

BENEFIT CONCERTS OF THE SEASON.

MR. VAUGHAN’s,