duction, that will give the character of the particular style of music to which he considers it to belong. The state of musical composition among us, at the present day, is a subject on which much misunderstanding has prevailed. Nothing is more common than to hear people very loud in dispraising all modern, and extolling all antient, music, who would be utterly unable to relish, or even to tolerate, a piece in the real antient style. Solidity is certainly not the characteristic of modern music: but is it more that of modern literature? Or can we wonder that, when the demand for novelty is so great, the efforts to answer that demand should be so numerous; or that, when novelty alone is so sure, as it now is, of creating an interest, we find it most frequently unaccompanied by any quality of more sterling value? Besides, when we compare the modern with the antient music, we are apt to take the one in the mass, while we possess the other in a state of great refinement. We forget the rheams of former days which have long been devoted to oblivion, and think only of the selection which the taste of succeeding years has deemed worthy of being handed down to us. Unfair as this may appear, such is the sort of comparison generally made: but, in truth, this art never flourished more than in the days which have not yet passed away. Whatever may be the merits of Corelli and Handel, (and we are disposed to admit them to be very transcendant,) we can scarcely consent to place those masters higher than many of the great composers who have lived, or who still live, in our own days. Haydn, Mozart, Storace, Cook, and Arnold, are but lately gone; and Beethoven, Winter, Atwood, and (though last not least) the author whose work has given occasion to these remarks, yet remain to prove that musical science and taste are far from extinct *. In mentioning these names, we must not be understood as making any comparison injurious to others. The list might be largely increased: but we are willing to take those only whose works may be said to pretend to a higher character. The oratorio of the Mount of Olives, the work of Beethoven, recently produced in this country, appears to us to combine more excellences of different kinds than any other piece of the same nature which we ever heard performed. The subject of it, indeed, violates some of the sober feelings commonly entertained by us: but, in spite of that objection, the richness and variety of the music will always place it among the *We do not forget that Callcot is also a living composer; and we would willingly bestow our mite of praise on his truly original and delightful works:- but it is painful to reflect on his excellencies, in the melancholy state of eclipse in which they are understood now to be placed. most most admired specimens in the highest branch of the art. Dr. Crotch, too, has been scarcely less successful in his noble oratorio of Palestine.-Music, indeed, has of late run into a great variety of styles. The operas and the oratorios of Handel were very similar to each other; so much that, we believe, several of the pieces were occasionally interchanged by him; and, in particular, the fine air of "Lord! remember David," is well known to have been originally adapted to the profane words of a song in an Italian opera. That great master was certainly no very accurate distinguisher of styles: a character of uniformity pervades all his works; and it is related of him that he was in the habit of keeping pieces ready made, and adapting and introducing them as occasion required. In the lighter styles of music, suited to the theatre and the chamber, we cannot doubt the superiority of the modern school. Not, indeed, that we can much compliment the modern English school in these particular departments. Our theatres are obliged perpetually to recur to the works of Arne* and his contemporaries; and our concerts are largely indebted to Purcell, Pepusch, Harrington, &c.: but it is chiefly to the Italian school that we are to look for excellence of these kinds.. There, indeed, a style of music has grown up which, in our opinion, is superior to any thing of which the antient school can boast. The operas of Mozart, Cimarosa, Winter, Paër, Guglielmi, and Ferrari, carry the art and science of music to its greatest possible height, and exhibit it with its greatest possible varieties. In their works, every thing seems so naturally conceived, that we are apt to imagine some real connection between the music and the sense, till the existence of any such connection is disproved by their using the same airs for different words, and producing the same natural effect in all. In the composition of music for the chamber, the Cramers, Clementi, Asioli, Shield, Webbe, Danby, and Callcot, (most of them English artists,) with several of those foreigners who have been previously named, are pre-eminent. The revolutions which have taken place in the progress of this art are worthy of attention. In the earliest age of composition, we find it strict in science, and simple but not very interesting in style; of this age we have little to quote but the chant of the Christian churches. The art, like most others, was entirely in the hands of the monks. In the next stage, we find conceits of various descriptions prevailing in music; this was the age of Madrigals, Rounds, Canons, &c.; and it was also that of Acrostics, and those other conceits for which the Italian *Arne was the entire composer of Artaxerxes, Comus, &c. and the principal composer of the Maid of the Mill, Love in a Village, &c. school school of poetry was then so censurable. Many of these are exquisitely beautiful: but it is well known that their difficulty is such that they are seldom well performed; and in the generality of them the art and labour are so obvious as to cause a disagreeable rather than a pleasant effect. Out of this evil, however, the next stage produced strict and free fugues, imitations, and other pieces of that kind, in which the natural and the artificial effect are more agreeably combined than in most other sorts of composition. Throughout the whole, simplicity of effect has continued gradually to gain ground. In England, the music of Purcell, perhaps, led the way; Corelli and the other Italian masters of his age followed. Something of air and accompani ment was then practised, and, at the next step, we meet with the great point of union of all styles in Handel and his contemporaries. Of the works of Handel, indeed, some are more remarkable for scientific composition and ingenious contrivance than for simplicity of effect: but the observation will not hold as a general rule. He was fond of imitative accompaniment, of which his "Acis and Galatea" affords the finest specimen throughout. The taste of succeeding masters has been more sparing of this style. Among those masters, the name of Mozart will ever stand as one of the most conspicuous; since, with a strictness not inferior to that of Handel or the older composers, but with a genius more fertile and unrestrained, he has succeeded in producing the utmost novelty and variety of effect, with the closest and most strictly allowed materials. Perhaps, our readers will think that we trespass on their patience by these detailed observations: but they have occurred to us in the course of our perusal and examination of Dr. Crotch's volume, and therefore we have not considered them as irrelevant on this occasion. Viewed as an elementary work, the present is certainly most clearly and ably drawn up. It is comprized in a small compass, yet is sufficiently full to be free from obscurity; it affects no grace of style, though it is clear and perspicuous; and it is far from tedious, though it goes labori ously through the details of its subject. From the review which we have taken of the compositions of the day in England, we think that such a work is calculated to be highly useful. Fancy and genius abound; and all that is necessary is to introduce a little more accuracy of science and correctness of effect. It must not, however, be considered as a familiar treatise on the subject, or one which will be entirely comprehended without a considerable share of attention. The practical knowlege of this art has lately spread very extensively among our female population; and certainly nothing is more agreeable in social life than the cultivation of it. The scientific part of. the the art, however, is little cultivated; and, consequently, one great means of acquiring facility and increased enjoyment in the practical part of it is lost. With a view to this neglect, we think that a publication is still wanting which shall go farther in simplification and be more familiar than this of Dr. Crotch: but such a production must, to a certain degree, be less scientific. For instance, it should take the ordinary notation, (that of the Solfa being too abstracted,) and leave all, that cannot be effected by means of that notation, to the subject of transposition. Even the naming of the intervals might in some measure be disregarded; and the nomenclature of flat ninths, sharp sevenths, and other mathematical niceties, (so difficult in general to be comprehended,) might be abolished. All the rules might simply be given in the natural keys of C for the major and A for the minor, and adapted to the nomenclature of the gammuts in those keys only; and this mode, with proper directions for transposing from these keys into all the others, and for modulation, would produce nearly the same result with greater simplicity. We do not mean to express a wish that Dr. Crotch should devote his time to such a work: but these remarks may meet the eye of some author who may be able so to allot a portion of his leisure, and thus supply a deficiency in the literature of his art. In the mean time, we hope that Dr. Crotch will pursue the subject beyond the mere elements of the science, and direct the attention of students to all that is most worthy of imitation in the works of their predecessors or their contemporaries. We cannot close this article without adding a few words on the mechanical part of the science of music. The striking im provements which have been made in modern times, in the manufacture of musical instruments, will be admitted by every one who is in any degree conversant with the fact*: but this branch of the art seems to be so circumstanced as naturally to defy all attempts at perfection. Dr. Crotch has devoted the last chapter of his work to the subject of Tuning and Temperament; and innumerable other writings on these topics have lately appeared. It is well known that our piano-fortes and organs have, in general, only 12 notes in every octave: butthat, mathematically speaking, there are a great many more. Convenience will not permit the number now in use to be much augmented, though in some instruments the number of finger keys in every octave exceeds 12: but none could pos We have been credibly informed that one very eminent pianoforte-maker has for years past expended a thousand pounds annually in experiments. sibly extend to comprehend all the necessary notes without being absolutely useless to the performer. Attempts have, therefore, been made of late to adapt the usual number and scale of finger-keys to a larger number of notes, by means of shifting pedals: a very simple contrivance for this purpose has been devised by Mr. Loëschman, of Newman Street; and something of the same kind has been invented by the Reverend Mr. Lister. Some of the defects, however, will never be completely removed; and to cure them in part is to have a part more perfect and the remainder more imperfect than in the generality of instruments: so that it is perhaps best, under all circumstances, to rest contented with the means which have been long since adopted for removing or rather compromising the difficulty. This is what is denominated temperament; and it consists in dividing the mathematical discrepances between different notes so that they may approximate to each other: for instance, where an interval would occur between D and Eb in the key of C, and both might be wanted in that or in some key, it is customary to raise the lower and sink the higher of those two notes in a trifling degree, so as to make them serve for each other. The ear scarcely appreciates this management in any case, and therefore no unpleasant effect is produced. Some singers, indeed, complain that the voice is not so tractable in this respect: but it is perhaps not evident that any good foundation exists for the assertion; and it seems probable that the voice is not more accurate than the ear. The objection, however, is made clearly perceptible by the Monochord, to the description of which contrivance Dr. Crotch has allotted a part of this last chapter of his work. That instrument is merely a single string strained to any given degree of tension over two bridges, in the manner of a violin-string. When sounded open, it gives a certain note; when divided into two equal parts by pressure in the middle, it gives the octave of the first; at two thirds, a fifth, and so on. As the scale becomes more refined, the numbers are either not reducible to any fractional denomination, or require very extended denominators; and, to give the whole their tones with perfect accuracy even to the extent to which composition is sometimes practised, 24 notes would be required in every octave, and still it would not be mathematically perfect. Mr. Loëschman, in a perspicuous little pamphlet published by him in explanation of his improved piano-fortes, has stated the exact relative values of the notes in the following numbers: C 3600: C 3445: Db 3364 C x 3297: D 3220: D 3081: Eb 3009: E 2880 Fb 2811 E 2756: F 2691: F 2576: Gb 2515 F x 2465 G 2407: G2304: Ab 2250: REV. Nov. 1814. A 2153: : T |