The second is a pretty, but not very new ballad, in E. For the commencing bars of the third, a song, M. Eisenhofer has undisguisedly borrowed the beginning of the Sicilian Mariner’s Hymn. This is in two movements; the first an andantino; the second, allegretto, in the Swiss style, and very common: the fourth boasts one novel feature, in the shape of what the composer calls a trio. The principal movement is in F major; the second (the trio, though for a single voice) in F minor, and the first is repeated. The fifth of the set, the time of which changes frequently, is overflowing with gaiety, both melody and accompaniment, and is the cleverest of the whole, though too long, the author seeming to think that certain passages—his favourites, no doubt—could not be too often repeated. The last in the book is a duet for two sopranos, very simple, easy, flowing, and the most popularly written of any in the collection. Thus the set begins and ends well; and when we have stated that the English words are correctly adapted, taking the difficulty of the task into consideration, we shall have said as much in favour of the present work as honest criticism will justify.
Mr. Brewer’s Songs, six in number, afford strong presumptive evidence that he understands music better than language,—that his knowledge of composition exceeds his skill in reading. And this, we lament to say, is a case of very common occurrence in the musical world, arising from an obvious cause, which we are unwilling to name; one that will not cease to operate till an efficient academy of music be established—an academy, or something of the kind, which shall make the general improvement of the intellect of students an object of equal importance to that of the art they are intended to practise. When this is brought about, (if it ever can be accomplished,) false emphasis, erroneous accentuation, and puerile conceits, will be as rare as undisguised consecutive fifths and unresolved discords; and composers will be looked upon in a far different light from that in which they are now viewed by the well-educated portion of society.
The first of these songs is an undeniable proof of what we advance: the music, with an exception which we shall presently mention, is clever—the emphasis abominable. ‘I watch for thee, when parting Day,’ is the composer’s manner of treating this line, thus throwing the emphasis on exactly the wrong words. Then after the word ‘day’ is a rest, though the author (Mrs. Cornwell Baron Wilson) has made it perfectly clear that no pause can be at all intended. And so throughout the whole song. In the sixth and two following bars of page 3 are octaves between the accompaniment and base, which are equally opposed to rule and good taste. If the composer intended to strengthen his base, he should have written these notes below, not above: as they stand, they form part of the accompaniment to the base, and are not allowable. But for such drawbacks, the song would have been entitled to great praise[78].
The second is extremely well set, the melody animated and pleasing, and there are points in the accompaniment (bars 5 to 8, page 7) which show more vigour than is usual in compositions of this kind. The third is very full of feeling, and charming altogether, musically considered; but here, unhappily, the words—their emphasis and connexion—have not been understood. In the fourth much is attempted, and little achieved. It is a very long song written to very few words,—to the following lines:—
The lark has her gay song begun,
She leaves her grassy nest—
which Kirke White assuredly never intended to end here, for he could not have thought it worth his while to record a bare fact of so exceedingly unimportant a kind. But the composer has given no less than five pages to the brief narrative, which include a brilliant accompaniment for the flute; this part, we surmise, being intended as an imitation of one of the lark’s best bravuras. The fifth affords a compensation for the preceding; it is melodious, expressive, and free from fault. The last, ‘a Fairy Song,’ is well imagined, lively, and agreeable; but here we find long notes given to short syllables, to connecting words, and lines joined that ought to be separated by some kind of pause,—errors which, though they are, as we well know, thought trivial by many composers, very forcibly strike the most sensible people, and often lead them to doubt whether music is worth the time and trouble which its cultivation costs.
PIANO-FORTE.
FIRST CONCERTO, with Orchestral Accompaniments, as performed by the Author at the Public Concert of the Royal Academy of Music, 1833; composed by W. STERNDALE BENNET. (Cramer, Addison, and Beale.)