We feel happy in being able to make this announcement, because, from the great loss with which several of the late triennial meetings have been attended—(the receipts not having been equal to the expenditure, and consequently leaving a large sum to be advanced by the stewards, to make good the deficiency)—it was for some time very doubtful whether these musical performances, which have been so long established, and from which, we believe, all other of our provincial musical festivals have emanated, would, or would not, be continued. To prevent, however, the abandonment of these most respectable and useful meetings—(we say useful, because although, as we have before stated, a heavy loss has sometimes fallen on the stewards, yet the ends of the establishment have not been defeated, for the total amount of donations, and the collection made each day of the performance at the doors of the cathedral, amounting, on the average, annually to between 700l. and 800l., is invariably, and without the least deduction towards the expenses, distributed amongst the several claimants—we say, then, in order to keep up these respectable and useful meetings)—and that the objects of the charity may not suffer from their being discontinued, the following distinguished personages have most willingly consented to take upon themselves the office of steward for the ensuing meeting: Lord Foley, Lord Southwell, Sir Offley Wakeman, Bart., Colonel Russell, M.P., Osman Ricardo, Esq., Joseph John Martin, Esq., Elias Isaac, Esq., John Taylor, Esq., the Bishop of Worcester, the Venerable Archdeacon Onslow, Hon. and Rev. James Somers Cocks, Rev. John Davison, Rev. John Peel, and the Rev. Thomas Pearson.
To the foregoing list we have no doubt that other names will yet be added.
The music to be performed in the cathedral will be chosen from the works of Handel, Mozart, Beethoven, Cherubini, and other masters of the greatest celebrity, including selections from the following Oratorios, which may justly be ranked amongst the most highly classical productions, viz.: The Creation (Haydn); Mount Sinai (the Chevalier Neukomm); The Last Judgment (Spohr); the Deluge, a new work, held in the highest estimation in Germany, no part of which has hitherto been performed in this country (Schneider); and, though last not least, Palestine, the masterly production of our countryman Dr. Crotch. This augurs well for the undertaking; and that the music so judiciously selected may lose none of its charms in the performance, the following principal vocalists are engaged: Madame Malibran, Miss Clara Novello, and Mrs. W. Knyvett; Messrs. Braham, Vaughan, W. Knyvett, Ed. Taylor, and Mr. Phillips; with a strong and efficient chorus. Signor Donzelli is also engaged, whose splendid voice will no doubt prove a great acquisition at the evening concerts. Mr. F. Cramer will lead the band, and be supported by Messrs. Moralt, Marshall, Loder, R. Ashley, Lindley, Dragonetti, Nicholson, Cooke, Willman, Mackintosh, Platt, Harper, &c. &c. The repieno performers will be principally selected from the Philharmonic Concert; and to make the arrangements as perfect as possible, M. de Beriot is engaged as concerto player, who, we believe, is allowed, by all good judges, to be the most finished performer on the violin in Europe.
From this brief outline, it appears to no that the conductor (Mr. Clarke) has left nothing undone that is likely to contribute to the success of the meeting; and if novelty, combined with excellence, has lost none of its usual attraction, we predict that the meeting will be fully attended.
THE UTILITY OF MUSIC TO SAILORS.
THOUGH it is well known to every one that seafaring men of all grades are warm admirers of music,—that the song is as welcome to the admiral in his state cabin, as to the foremast-man seated on his chest amidst the lower-deck guns,—that the ‘soft complaining flute’ is constantly in request in the ward-room and cockpit, when less gentle winds than those which give it utterance are not blowing hard,—and that ‘sharp violins proclaim,’ in every part of the ship, except indeed the quarter-deck, Jack’s love for innocent scrapes, as well as mischievous ones;—yet we never knew music recommended, from anything like authority, to mariners as a pursuit, till we took up the Nautical Magazine for May last, wherein we find ‘A Sailor’s advice to his Son,’ a sensible essay, so far as the matter is concerned, in which the art of modulated sounds is mentioned as one that may, with the most beneficial results, be cultivated by the sailor, whatever his degree, for reasons that will be seen in the following extract, which we make with much pleasure, as it affords another proof of the increasing spread of an art to which our work is devoted; though we do not attempt to conceal that some allowances must be made for the style of one whose life has, most likely, been devoted to studies of more importance to him than the very exact value of a word, or the turning of a period.
‘The influence,’ says the sailor, ‘of music in elevating the enjoyments and alleviating the daily disturbances of life, by lulling its cares, its passions, and its follies, into calm repose, is perhaps still more instantaneous. Music alone can open every avenue to the heart, and unfold the various treasures with which a beneficent Creator has furnished the susceptibility of his creatures. The most painful ebullitions of grief are stifled, and charmed into tranquillity by skilful music. To dissipate affliction, to moderate the anguish of severe disappointment, or to adorn the sparkling moment of festivity, music is equally powerful and efficient: it can quell the agitation of despair, and exhilarate with speechless tremor the heart, while it overflows with delight. Music is the language of those regions where happier and better beings reside, and its sympathy with the fine and tender affinities of our own species gives it unlimited sway over the modulation of our feelings. The mother’s lullaby to the darling in her lap breathes music upon us in our infancy; it affects us in various modes in after life—in the midnight serenade, in the festive tabor, in the shrill clarion of war, and in the full toned organ, which sounds a requiem over the departing reliques of mortal existence. Amidst the wildest scenery of nature, music can breathe sentiments of humanity in the breast of the most obdurate savage; and among the infinite gradations of civilized life can call down the monarch from his throne, can console the exile under his expulsion, and can elate the breasts of humble peasantry with jocund celebration of their evening repose. In its simplest form, music requires neither skill nor precautionary steps to find access to the heart—the ploughboy’s carol, the milkmaid’s ballad, the seaman’s ditty, or the recitation of the foreign mountaineer chanted with inartificial melody, produce powerful and pleasing sensations. But to create that intensity of feeling, which solely identifies itself with the accordance of musical composition, the corresponding symphony of which awakens from their secluded cells the sweetest and tenderest affections, elucidates emotions of hope, fear, surprise, terror, and joy,—and as the stream of harmony flows along calls forth involuntary exclamations of delight, wonder, and admiration—demands a much more copious extent of subject and execution. The sublime compositions of Handel, Haydn, Arne, Mozart, and Cimarosa, are of this description.’
THE MADRIGAL SOCIETY.
THIS ancient and excellent Society held its last meeting of the season at Freemasons’ Tavern, on Thursday the 18th of July, when a remarkably full attendance of members, and numerous visiters, showed that such music as is here performed, instead of producing satiety, as is the case with too many modern compositions, becomes more exciting and delightful the longer it is enjoyed. Sir John Rogers, Bart., the highly-talented President, was in the chair; and under the guidance of one possessed of so much knowledge and tact, aided, too, as he was, by such a host of vocal supporters, nothing less than so satisfactory, so brilliant an evening could have been expected.