The art of combining sounds in a manner agreeable to the ear. This combination may be either simultaneous or successive: in the first case, it constitutes harmony; in the last, melody. But though the same sounds, or intervals of sound, which give pleasure when heard in succession, will not always produce the same effect in harmony; yet the principles which constitute the simpler and more perfect kinds of harmony, are almost, if not entirely, the same with those of melody. By perfect harmony, we do not here mean that plenitude, those complex modifications of harmonic sound, which are admired in practice; but that harmony which is called perfect by theorists and artists; that harmony which results from the coalescence of simultaneous sounds produced by vibrations in the proportions of thirds, fifths, and octaves, or their duplicates.

The principles upon which these various combinations of sound are founded, and by which they are regulated, constitute a science, which is not only extensive but profound, when we would investigate the principles from whence these happy modifications of sound result, and by which they are determined; or when we would explore the sensations, whether mental or corporeal, with which they affect us. The ancient definitions of music are not proportioned in their extent to our present ideas of that art; but M. Rousseau betrays a temerity highly inconsistent with the philosophical character, when from thence he infers, that their ideas were vague and undetermined. Every soul susceptible of refinement and delicacy in taste or sentiment, must be conscious that there is a music in action as well as in sound; and that the ideas of beauty and decorum, of harmony and symmetry, are, if we may use the expression, equally constituent of visible as of audible music. Those illustrious minds, whose comprehensive prospects in every science where taste and propriety prevail took in nature at a single glance, would behold with contempt and ridicule those narrow and microscopic views of which alone their successors in philosophy have discovered themselves capacious. With these definitions, however, we are less concerned, as they bear no proportion to the ideas which are now entertained of music. Nor can we follow M. Rousseau, from whatever venerable sources his authority may be derived, in adopting his Egyptian etymology for the word music. The established derivation from Musa could only be questioned by a paradoxical genius. That music had been practised in Egypt before it was known as an art in Greece, is indeed a fact which cannot be questioned; but it does not thence follow that the Greeks had borrowed the name as well as the art from Egypt. If the art of music be so natural to man that vocal melody is practised wherever articulate sounds are used, there can be little reason for deducing the idea of music from the whistling of winds through the reeds that grew on the river Nile. And indeed, when we reflect with how easy a transition we may pass from the accents of speaking to diatonic sounds; when we observe how early children adapt the language of their amusements to measure and melody, however rude; when we consider how early and universally these practices take place—there is no avoiding the conclusion, that the idea of music is connoted to man, and implied in the original principles of his constitution. We have already said, that the principles on which it is founded, and the rules by which it is conducted, constitute a science. The same maxims when applied to practice form an art; hence its first and most capital division is into speculative and practical music.

Speculative music is, if we may be permitted to use the expression, the knowledge of the nature and use of those materials which compose it, or, in other words, of all the different relations between the high and low, between the harsh and the sweet, between the swift and the slow, between the strong and the weak, of which sounds are susceptible; relations which, comprehending all the possible combinations of music and sound, seem likewise to comprehend all the causes of the impressions which their succession can make upon the ear and upon the soul.

Practical music is the art of applying and reducing to practice those principles which result from the theory of agreeable sounds, whether simultaneous or successive; or, in other words, to conduct and arrange sounds according to the proportions resulting from consonance, from duration and succession, in such a manner as to produce upon the ear the effect which the composer intends. This is the art which we call composition*. With respect to the actual production of sounds by voices or instruments, which is called execution, this department is merely mechanical and operative; which, only presupposing the powers of founding the intervals true, of exactly proportioning their degrees of duration, of elevating or depressing sounds according to those gradations which are prescribed by the tone, and to the value required by the time, demands no other knowledge but a familiar acquaintance with the characters used in music, and a habit of expressing them with promptitude and facility.

Speculative music is likewise divided into two departments; viz. the knowledge of the proportions of sounds or their intervals, and that of their relative durations; that is to say, of measure and of time.

The first is what among the ancients seems to have been called harmonical music. It shows in what the nature of air or melody consists; and discovers what is consonant or discordant, agreeable or disagreeable, in the modulation. It discovers, in a word, the effects which sounds produce on the ear by their nature, by their force, and by their intervals; which is equally applicable to their consonance and their succession.

The second has been called rhythmical, because it treats of sounds with regard to their time and quantity. It contains the explication of their continuance, of their proportions, of their measures, whether long or short, quick or slow, of the different modes of succession and the parts into which they are divided, that to these the succession of sounds may be conformed.

Practical music is likewise divided into two departments, which correspond to the two preceding.

That which answers to harmonical music, and which the ancients called melopee, teaches the rules for combining and varying the intervals, whether consonant or dissonant, in an agreeable and harmonious manner.

The second, which answers to the rhythmical music, and which they called rhythmopoea, contains the rules for applying the different modes of time, for understanding the feet by which verses were scanned, and the diversities of measure; in a word, for the practice of the rhythmus.

Music is at present divided more simply into melody and harmony; for since the introduction of harmony, the proportion between the length and shortness of sounds, or even that between the distance of returning cadences, are of less consequence amongst us. For it often happens in modern languages, that the verses assume their measures from the musical air, and almost entirely lose the smallest share of proportion and quantity which in themselves they possess.

By melody the successions of sound are regulated in such a manner as to produce pleasing airs. See MELODY.

Harmony consists in uniting to each of the sounds, in a regular succession, two or more different sounds, which simultaneously striking the ear soothe it by their concurrence. See HARMONY.

Music, according to Rousseau, may be, and perhaps likewise ought to be, divided into the physical and the imitative. The first is limited to the mere mechanism of sounds, and reaches no farther than the external senses, without carrying its impressions to the heart, and can produce nothing but corporeal sensations more or less agreeable. Such is the music of songs, of hymns, of all the airs which only consist in combinations of melodious sounds, and in general all music which is merely harmonious.

It may, however, be questioned, whether every sound, even to the most simple, is not either by nature or by early and confirmed association, imitative. If we may trust our own feelings, there is no such thing in nature as music which gives mechanical pleasure alone. For if so, it must give such pleasure as we receive from tastes, from odours, or from other grateful titillations; but we absolutely deny that there are any musical sensations or pleasures, in the smallest degree analogous to these. Let any piece of music be resolved into its elementary parts and their proportions, it will then easily appear from this analysis, that sense is no more than the vehicle of such perceptions, and that mind alone can be susceptible of them. It may indeed happen, from the number of the performers and the complication of the harmony, that meaning and sentiment may be lost in the multiplicity of sounds; but this, though it may be harmony, loses the name of music.

The second department of this division, by lively and accentuated inflections, and by sounds which may be said to speak, expresses all the passions, paints every possible picture, reflects every object, subjects the whole of nature to its skilful imitations, and impresses even on the heart and soul of man sentiments proper to affect them in the most sensible manner. This, continues nues he, which is the genuine lyric and theatrical music, was what gave double charms and energy to ancient poetry; this is what, in our days, we exert ourselves in applying to the drama, and what our fingers execute on the stage. It is in this music alone, and not in harmonies or the refection of nature, that we must expect to find accounts of those prodigious effects which it formerly produced.

But, with M. Rousseau's permission, all music which is not in some degree characterized by these pathetic and imitative powers, deserves no better name than that of a musical jargon, and can only be effectuated by such a complication and intricacy of harmony, as may confound, but cannot entertain the audience. This character, therefore, ought to be added as essential to the definition of music; and it must be attributed to our neglect of this alone, whilst our whole attention is bestowed on harmony and execution, that the best performances of our artists and composers are heard with little's indifference and obduracy, nor ever can conciliate any admirers, but such as are induced, by pedantry and affectation, to pretend what they do not feel. Still may the curse of indifference and inattention pursue and harrow up the souls of every composer or performer, who pretends to regale our ears with this musical legerdemain, till the grin of scorn, or the hiss of infamy, teach them to correct this depravity of taste, and entertain us with the voice of nature!

Whilst moral effects are sought in the natural effects of sound alone, the scrutiny will be vain, and disputes will be maintained without being understood: but sounds as representatives of objects, whether by nature or association, introduce new scenes to the fancy and new feelings to the heart; not from their mechanical powers, but from the connection established by the Author of our frame between sounds and the object which either by natural resemblance or unavoidable association they are made to represent.

It would seem that music was one of those arts which were first discovered; and that vocal was prior to instrumental music, if in the earliest ages there was any music which could be said to be purely instrumental. For it is more than probable, that music was originally formed to be the vehicle of poetry; and of consequence, though the voice might be supported and accompanied by instruments, yet music was never intended for instruments alone.

We are told by ancient authors, that all the laws, whether human or divine, exhortations to virtue, the knowledge of the characters and actions of gods and heroes, the lives and achievements of illustrious men, were written in verse, and sung publicly by a quire to the sound of instruments; and it appears from the Scriptures, that such from the earliest times was the custom among the Israelites. Nor was it possible to find means more efficacious for impressing on the mind of man the principles of morals, and inspiring the love of virtue. Perhaps, however, this was not the result of a premeditated plan; but inspired by sublime sentiments and elevation of thought, which in accents that were suited and proportioned to their celestial nature endeavoured to find a language worthy of themselves and expressive of their grandeur.

It merits attention, that the ancients were duly sensible of the value and importance of this divine art, not only as a symbol of that universal order and symmetry which prevails through the whole frame of material and intelligent nature, but as productive of the most momentous effects both in moral and political life. Plato and Aristotle, who disagreed almost in every other maxim of politics, are unanimous in their approbation of music, as an efficacious instrument in the formation of the public character and in conducting the state; and it was the general opinion, that whilst the gymnastic exercises rendered the constitution robust and hardy, music humanized the character, and softened those habits of roughness and ferocity by which men might otherwise have degenerated into savages. The gradations by which voices were exerted and tuned, by which the invention of one instrument succeeded to another, or by which the principles of music were collected and methodized in such a manner as to give it the form of an art and the dignity of a science, are topics so fruitful of conjecture and so void of certainty, that we must leave them to employ minds more speculative and inventions more prolific than ours, or transfer them to the History of music as a more proper place for such disquisitions. For the amusement of the curious, Rousseau in his Musical Dictionary, Plates C and N, has transferred some fragments of Grecian, Persian, American, Chinese, and Swiss music, with which performers may entertain themselves at leisure. When they have tried the pieces, it is imagined they will be less languidly fond than that author of ascribing the power of music to its affinity with the national accents where it is composed. This may doubtless have its influence; but there are other causes more permanent and less arbitrary to which it owes its most powerful and universal charms.

The music now most generally celebrated and practiced is that of the Italians, or their successful imitators. The English, from the invasion of the Saxons, to that more late though lucid era in which they imbibed the art and copied the manner of the Italians, had a music which neither pleased the soul nor charmed the ear. The primitive music of the French deserves no higher panegyric. Of all the barbarous nations, the Scots and Irish seem to have perfected the most affecting original music. The first consists of a melody characterized by tenderness: it melts the soul to a pleasing pensive languor. The other is the native expression of grief and melancholy. Taffoni informs us, that in his time a prince from Scotland had imported into Italy a lamentable kind of music from his own country; and that he himself had composed pieces in the same spirit. From this expressive though laconic description, we learn that the character of our national music was even then established; yet so gross is our ignorance and credulity, that we ascribe the best and most impassioned airs which are extant among us to David Rizzio; as if an Italian lutanist, who had lived for a short time in Scotland, could, at once, as it were by inspiration, have imbibed a spirit and composed in a manner so different from his own. It is yet more surprising that Geminiani should have entertained and published the same prejudice, upon the miserable authority of popular tradition alone; for the fact is authenticated by no better credentials. The primitive music of the Scots may be divided into the martial, the pastoral, and the festive. The first consists either either in marches, which were played before the chieftains, in imitation of the battles which they fought, or in lamentations for the catastrophes of war and the extinction of families. These wild effusions of natural melody preserve several of the rules preferable for composition. The strains, though rude and untutored, are frequently terrible or mournful in a very high degree. The port or march is sometimes in common, sometimes in treble time; regular in its measures, and exact in the distance between its returning cadences; most frequently, though not always, loud and brisk. The pi-broch, or imitation of battles, is wild, and abrupt in its transitions from interval to interval and from key to key; various and destitute in its movements; frequently irregular in the return of its cadences; and in short, through the whole, seems inspired with such fury and enthusiasm, that the hearer is irresistibly infected with all the rage of precipitate courage, notwithstanding the rudeness of the accents by which it is kindled. To this the pastoral forms a striking contrast. Its accents are plaintive, yet soothing; its harmony generally flat; its modulations natural and agreeable; its rhythm simple and regular; its returning cadences at equal distance; its transitions from one concinnous interval to another, at least for the most part; its movements flow, and may be either in common or treble time. It scarcely admits of any other harmony than that of a simple bass. A greater number of parts would cover the air, and destroy the melody. To this we shall add what has been said upon the same subject by Dr Franklin. Writing to Lord K———, he proceeds thus:

"Give me leave, on this occasion, to extend a little the sense of your position, 'That melody and harmony are separately agreeable, and in union delightful;' and to give it as my opinion, that the reason why the Scotch tunes have lived so long, and will probably live for ever (if they escape being stifled in modern affected ornament), is merely this, that they are really compositions of melody and harmony united, or rather that their melody is harmony. I mean, the simple tunes sung by a single voice. As this will appear paradoxical, I must explain my meaning. In common acceptation, indeed, only an agreeable succession of sounds is called melody; and only the coexistence of agreeable sounds harmony. But since the memory is capable of retaining for some moments a perfect idea of the pitch of a past sound, so as to compare it with the pitch of a succeeding sound, and judge truly of their agreement or disagreement, there may and does arise from thence a sense of a harmony between the present and past sounds, equally pleasing with that between two present sounds." Now the construction of the old Scotch tunes is this, that almost every succeeding emphatic note is a third, a fifth, an octave, or in short some note that is in concord with the preceding note. Thirds are chiefly used, which are very pleasing concords. I use the word emphatical, to distinguish those notes which have a stress laid on them in fingering the tune, from the lighter connecting notes that serve merely, like grammar-articles in common speech, to tack the whole together.

"That we have a most perfect idea of a sound just past, I might appeal to all acquainted with music, who know how easy it is to repeat a sound in the same pitch with one just heard. In tuning an instrument, a good ear can as easily determine that two strings are in unison by sounding them separately, as by sounding them together; their disagreement is also as easily, I believe I may say more easily and better distinguished when sounded separately; for when sounded together, though you know by the beating that one is higher than the other, you cannot tell which it is. I have ascribed to memory the ability of comparing the pitch of a present tone with that of one past. But if there should be, as possibly there may be, something in the ear similar to what we find in the eye, that ability would not be entirely owing to memory. Possibly the vibrations given to the auditory nerves by a particular sound may actually continue for some time after the cause of these vibrations is past, and the agreement or disagreement of a subsequent sound become by comparison with them more discernible. For the impression made on the visual nerves by a luminous object will continue for 20 or 30 seconds."

After some experiments to prove the permanency of visible impressions, he continues thus:

"Farther, when we consider by whom these ancient tunes were composed, and how they were first performed, we shall see that such harmonical succession of sounds was natural, and even necessary in their construction. They were composed by the minstrels of those days, to be played on the harp accompanied by the voice. The harp was strung with wire, which gives a sound of long continuance; and had no contrivance like that of the modern harpsichord, by which the sound of the preceding note can be stopt the moment a succeeding note begins. To avoid actual discord, it was therefore necessary that the succeeding emphatic note should be a chord with the preceding, as their sounds must exist at the same time. Hence arose that beauty in those tunes that has so long pleased, and will please forever, though men scarce know why. That they were originally composed for the harp, and of the most simple kind, I mean a harp without any half-notes but those in the natural scale, and with no more than two octaves of strings, from C to C, I conjecture from another circumstance; which is, that not one of these tunes really ancient, has a single artificial half-note in it; and that in tunes where it is most convenient for the voice to use the middle notes of the harp, and place the key in F, there the B, which if used should be a B flat, is always omitted, by passing over it with a third. The connoisseurs in modern music will say I have no taste; but I cannot help adding, that I believe our ancestors, in having a good song, distinctly articulated, sung to one of those tunes, and accompanied by the harp, felt more real pleasure than is communicated by the generality of modern operas, exclusive of that arising from the scenery and dancing. Most tunes of late composition, not having this natural harmony united with their melody, have recourse to the artificial harmony of a bass, and other accompanying parts. This support, in my opinion, the old tunes do not need, and are rather confused than aided by it. Whoever has heard James Oswald play them on his violincello, will be less inclined to dispute this with me. I have more than once seen tears of pleasure in the eyes of his auditors; and yet I think, even his playing those tunes would would please more if he gave them less modern ornament."

As these observations are for the most part true, and always ingenious, we need no other apology for quoting them at length. It is only proper to remark, that the transition in Scots music by consonant intervals, does not seem, as Dr Franklin imagines, to arise from the nature of the instruments upon which they played. It is more than probable, that the ancient British harp was not strung with wire, but with the same materials as the Welsh harps at present. These strings have not the same permanency of tone as metal; so that the sound of a preceding emphatic note must have expired before the subsequent accented note could be introduced. Besides, they who are acquainted with the manoeuvre of the Irish harp, know well that there is a method of discontinuing sounds no less easy and effectual than upon the harpsichord. When the performer finds it proper to interrupt a note, he has no more to do but return his finger gently upon the string immediately struck, which effectually stops its vibration.

That species of Scots music which we have distinguished by the name of fiddle seems now limited to reels and country-dances. These may be either in common or treble time. They most frequently consist of two strains: each of these contains eight or twelve bars. They are truly rhythmical; but the mirth which they excite seems rather to be inspired by the vivacity of the movement, than either by the force or variety of the melody. They possess a manoeuvre and expression peculiar to themselves, which it is impossible to describe, and which can only be exhibited by good performers.

Having thus far pursued the general idea of music, we shall, after the history, give a more particular detail of the science.

**HISTORY OF MUSIC.**

Music is capable of so infinite a variety, so greatly does the most simple differ from the most complex, and so multiplied are the degrees between these two extremes, that in no age could the incidents respecting that fascinating art have been few or uninteresting. But, that accounts of these incidents should have been handed down to us, scanty and imperfect, is no matter of surprise, when we recollect that the history of music is the history only of sounds, of which writing is a very inadequate medium; and that men would long employ themselves in the pleasing exercise of cultivating music before they possessed either the ability or the inclination to record their exertions.

No accurate traces, therefore, of the actual state of music, in the earlier ages of the world, can be discerned. Our ideas on the subject have no foundation firmer than conjecture and analogy.

It is probable, that among all barbarous nations some degree of similarity is discernible in the style of their music. Neither will much difference appear during the first dawns of civilization. But in the more advanced periods of society, when the powers of the human mind are permitted without obstacle to exert their native activity and tendency to invention, and are at the same time affected by the infinite variety of circumstances and situations which before had no existence, and which in one case accelerate, and in another retard; then that similarity, once so indistinguishable, gives place to the endless diversity of which the subject is capable.

The practice of music being universal in all ages and all nations, it would be absurd to attribute the invention of the art to any one man. It must have suffered a regular progression, through infancy, childhood, and youth, before it could arrive at maturity. The first attempts must have been rude and artless. Perhaps the first flute was a reed of the lake.

No nation has been able to produce proofs of antiquity so indisputable as the Egyptians. It would be vain, therefore, to attempt tracing music higher than the history of Egypt.

By comparing the accounts of Diodorus Siculus and of Plato, there is reason to suppose, that in very ancient times the study of music in Egypt was confined to the priesthood, who used it only on religious and solemn occasions; that, as well as sculpture, it was circumscribed by law; that it was esteemed sacred, and forbidden to be employed on light or common occasions; and that innovation in it was prohibited: But what the style or relative excellence of this very ancient music was, there are no traces by which we can form an accurate judgment. After the reigns of the Pharaohs, the Egyptians fell by turns under the dominion of the Ethiopians, the Persians, the Greeks, and the Romans. By such revolutions, the manners and amusements of the people, as well as their form of government, must have been changed. In the age of the Ptolemies, the musical games and contests instituted by those monarchs were of Greek origin, and the musicians who performed were chiefly Greek.

The most ancient monuments of human art and industry, at present extant at Rome, are the obelisks brought thither from Egypt, two of which are said to have been erected by Sesostris at Heliopolis, about 400 years before the siege of Troy. These were by the order of Augustus brought to Rome after the conquest of Egypt. One of them called *guglia rossa*, or the broken pillar, which during the sacking of the city in 1527 was thrown down and broken, still lies in the Campus Martius. On it is seen the figure of a musi-An Egyptian instrument of two strings, and with a neck. It resembles much the calafrone still used in the kingdom of Naples.

This curious relic of antiquity is mentioned, because it affords better evidence than, on the subject of ancient music, is usually to be met with, that the Egyptians, at so very early a period of their history, had advanced to a considerable degree of excellence in the cultivation of the arts. By means of its neck, this instrument was capable, with only two strings, of producing a great number of notes. These two strings, if tuned fourths to each other, would furnish that series of sounds called by the ancients *heptachord*, which which consists of a conjunct tetrachord as B, C, D, E; E, F, G, A; if tuned fifths, they would produce an octave, or two disjunct tetrachords. The calafione is tuned in this last manner. The annals of no nation other than Egypt, for many ages after the period of the obelisk at Heliopolis, exhibit the vestige of any contrivance to shorten strings during performance by a neck or finger-board. Father Montfaucon observes, that after examining 500 ancient lyres, harps, and citharas, he could discover no such thing.

Egypt indeed seems to have been the source of human intelligence, and the favorite residence of genius and invention. From that celebrated country did the Greeks derive their knowledge of the first elements of those arts and sciences in which they afterwards so eminently excelled. From Greece again did the Romans borrow their attainments in the same pursuits. And from the records of those different nations have the moderns been enabled to accomplish so wonderful an improvement in literature.

The Hermes or Mercury of the Egyptians, surnamed Trifmegistus, or thrice illustrious, who was, according to Sir Isaac Newton, the secretary of Osiris, is celebrated as the inventor of music. It has already been observed, that no person ought strictly to be called the inventor of an art which seems to be natural to, and coeval with, the human species; but the Egyptian Mercury is without doubt entitled to the praise of having made striking improvements in music, as well as of having advanced in various respects the civilization of the people, whose government was chiefly committed to his charge. The account given by Apollodorus of the manner in which he accidentally invented the lyre, is at once entertaining and probable. "The Nile (says Apollodorus), after having overflowed the whole country of Egypt, when it returned within its natural bounds, left on the shore a great number of dead animals of various kinds, and among the rest a tortoise; the flesh of which being dried and wafted by the sun, nothing remained within the shell but nerves and cartilages, and these being braced and contracted by the drying heat became sonorous. Mercury, walking along the banks of the Nile, happened to strike his foot against this shell; and was so pleased with the sound produced, that the idea of a lyre started into his imagination. He constructed the instrument in the form of a tortoise, and strung it with the dried sinews of dead animals."

How beautiful to conceive the energetic powers of the human mind in the early ages of the world, exploring the yet undiscovered capabilities of nature, and directed to the inexhaustible store by the finger of God in the form of accident!

The monaulos, or single flute, called by the Egyptians photinx, was probably one of the most ancient instruments used either by them or any other nation. From various remains of ancient sculpture, it appears to have been shaped like a bull's horn, and was at first, it may be supposed, no other than the horn itself. Before the invention of flutes, as no other instrument except those of percussion were known, music must have been little more than metrical. When the art of refining and lengthening sounds was first discovered, the power of music over mankind, from the agreeable surpise occasioned by soft and extended notes, was probably irresistible. At a time when all the rest of the world was involved in savage ignorance, the Egyptians were possessed of musical instruments capable of much variety and expression.—Of this the astonishing remains of the city Thebes still subsisting afford ample evidence. In a letter from Mr Bruce, ingrossed in Dr Burney's history of Music, there is given a particular description of the Theban harp, an instrument of extensive compass, and exquisite elegance of form. It is bar harp accompanied with a drawing taken from the ruins of an Egyptian ancient sepulchre at Thebes, supposed by Mr Bruce to be that of the father of Sesostris.

On the subject of this harp, Mr Bruce makes the following striking observation. It overturns all the accounts of the earliest state of ancient music and instruments in Egypt, and is altogether, in its form, ornaments, and compass, an incontrovertible proof, stronger than a thousand Greek quotations, that geometry, drawing, mechanics, and music, were at the greatest perfection when this harp was made; and that what we think in Egypt was the invention of arts was only the beginning of the era of their restoration."

Indeed, when the beauty and powers of this harp, along with the very great antiquity of the painting which represents it, are considered, such an opinion as that which Mr Bruce hints at, does not seem to be devoid of probability.

It cannot be doubted that during the reigns of the Ptolemies, who were voluptuous princes, music must have been much cultivated and encouraged. The father of Cleopatra, who was the last of that race of kings, derived his title of auletes, or flute-player, from his excessive attachment to the flute. Like Nero, he used to array himself in the dress of a tibicen, and exhibit his performance in the public musical contests.

Some authors, particularly Am. Marcellinus and M. Pau, refuse to the Egyptians, at any period of their history, any musical genius, or any excellence in the art; but the arguments used to support this opinion seem to be inconclusive, and the evidences of the opposite decision appear to be incontrovertible.

The sacred Scriptures afford almost the only mate-Hebrew trials from which any knowledge of Hebrew music can be drawn. In the rapid sketch, therefore, of ancient music which we mean to exhibit, a very few observations are all which can properly be given to that department of our subject.

Moses, who led the Israelites out of Egypt, was educated by Pharaoh's daughter in all the literature and elegant arts cultivated in that country. It is probable, therefore, that the taste and style of Egyptian music would be infused in some degree into that of the Hebrews. Music appears to have been interwoven through the whole tissue of religious ceremony in Palestine. The priesthood seem to have been musicians hereditarily and by office. The prophets appear to have accompanied their inspired effusions with music; and every prophet, like the present improvisatori of Italy, seems to have been accompanied by a musical instrument.

Music, vocal and instrumental, constituted a great part of the funeral ceremonies of the Jews. The pomp and expense used on these occasions advanced by degrees to an excessive extent. The number of flute-players in the processions amounted sometimes to several hundreds, hundreds, and the attendance of the guests continued frequently for 30 days.*

The Hebrew language abounds with consonants, and has so few vowels, that in the original alphabet they had no characters. It must, therefore, have been harsh and unfavourable to music. Their instruments of music were chiefly those of percussion; so that, both on account of the language and the instruments, the music must have been coarse and noisy. The vast numbers of performers too, whom it was the taste of the Hebrews to collect together, could with such a language and such instruments produce nothing but clamour and jargon. According to Josephus, there were 200,000 musicians at the dedication of Solomon's temple. Such are the circumstances from which only an idea of Hebrew music can be formed; for the Jews, neither ancient nor modern, have ever had any characters peculiar to music; and the melodies used in their religious ceremonies have at all times been entirely traditional.

Cadmus, with the Phoenician colony which he led into Greece, imported at the same time various arts into that country. By the assistance of his Phoenician artificers, that chief discovered gold in Thrace and copper at Thebes. At Thebes that metal is still termed cadmia. Of these materials, and of iron, they formed to themselves armour and instruments of war. These they struck against each other during their dances at sacrifices, by which they first obtained the idea of music. Such is the account given of the origin of that species of music in Greece produced by instruments of percussion. The invention of wind instruments in Greece is attributed to Minerva; and to the Grecian Mercury is assigned, by the poets and historians of that country, the honour of many discoveries probably due to the Egyptian Hermes, particularly the invention of stringed instruments. The lyre of the Egyptian Mercury had only three strings; that of the Grecian seven; the last was perhaps no more than an improvement on the other. When the Greeks deified a prince or hero of their own country, they usually assigned him an Egyptian name, and with the name bestowed on their new divinity all the actions, attributes, and rites of the original.

The Grecian lyre, although said to have been invented by Mercury, was cultivated principally by Apollo, who first played upon it with method, and accompanied it with the voice. The celebrated contest between him and Marfyas is mentioned by various authors; in which, by conjoining the voice with his lyre (a combination never before attempted), his music was declared superior to the flute of Marfyas. The progress of the lyre, according to Diodorus Siculus, the Grecian is the following. "The muses added to the Grecian lyre the string called mefe; Linus that of Iichanos; and Orpheus and Thamyras those strings which are named hypate and parhypate." It has been already mentioned, that the lyre invented by the Egyptian Mercury had but three strings. By putting these circumstances together, we may perhaps acquire some knowledge of the progress of music, or at least of the extension of its scale in the highest antiquity. Mefe, in the Greek music, is the fourth found of the second tetrachord of the great system, and first tetrachord invented by the ancients, answering to our A, on the fifth line in the base. If this sound then was added to the former three, it proves that the most ancient tetrachord was that from E in the base to A; and that the three original strings in the Mercurian and Apollonian lyre were tuned E, F, G, which the Greeks call hypate meson, parhypate meson, and meson diatonicos: The addition, therefore, of mefe to these, completed the first and most ancient tetrachord E, F, G, A. The string Iichanos again being added to these, and answering to our D on the third line in the base, extended the compass downwards, and gave the ancient lyre a regular series of five sounds. The two strings hypate and parhypate, corresponding with our B and C in the base, completed the heptachord or seven sounds b, c, d, e, f, g, a; a compass which received no addition till after the days of Pindar.

It might perhaps be expected, that in a history of Greek music something ought to be said concerning the muses, Apollo, Bacchus, and the other gods and demi-gods, who in the mythology of that country appear to have promoted and improved the art. But such a discussion would be too diffusive, and involve too much foreign matter for the plan we have chosen to adopt. We cannot avoid, however, making a few observations on the poems of Homer, in so far as connected with our subject. It has been imagined, with much appearance of probability, that the occupation of the first poets and musicians of Greece resembled that of the Celtic and German bards and the feasts of the first of Iceland and Scandinavia. They sang their poems in the streets of the cities and in the palaces of princes in Greece. They were treated with high respect, and regarded as inspired persons. Such was the employment of Homer. His poems, so justly celebrated, exhibit the most authentic picture that can be found in the annals of antiquity, although perhaps somewhat highly coloured, of the times of which he wrote and in which he lived. Music is always named throughout the Iliad and Odyssey with rapture; but as in these poems no mention is made of instrumental music unaccompanied with poetry and singing, a considerable share no doubt of the poet's praises is to be attributed to the poetry. The instruments most frequently named are the lyre, the flute, and the syrinx. The trumpet appears not to have been known at the siege of Troy, although it had come to be in use in the days of Homer himself. From the time of Homer till that of Sappho, there is almost a total blank in literature. Only a few fragments remain of the works of those poets and musicians whose names are preserved as having flourished between those periods (A). During the century which elapsed between the days of Sappho and those of Anacreon, no literary productions are preserved entire.

(A) Hesiod lived so near to Homer, that it has been disputed which of them is the most ancient. It is now, we believe, universally admitted, that the palm of antiquity is due to Homer; but we consider them as having both flourished in the same era. From Anacreon to Pindar there is another chain of near a century. Subsequent to this time, the works still extant of the three great tragic poets, Æschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, together with those of Plato, Aristotle, Aristothenes, Euclid, Theocritus, Callimachus, Polybius, and many others, produced all within a space less than 300 years, distinguishing this illustrious and uncommon period as that in which the whole powers of genius seem to have been exerted to illuminate and instruct mankind in future ages. Then it was that eloquence, poetry, music, architecture, history, painting, sculpture, like the spontaneous blossoms of nature, flourished without the appearance of labour or of art.

The poets, as well epic as lyric and elegiac, were all likewise musicians; so strictly connected were music and poetry for many ages. It would afford amusement to collect the biographical anecdotes of these favourites of genius, and to assign to each the respective improvements made by him in music and poetry; but our limits do not admit of so extensive a disquisition; for which, therefore, reference must be made to the editors and commentators of these authors, and to the voluminous histories of music lately published.

The invention of notation and musical characters marked a distinguished era in the progress of music. There are a diversity of accounts respecting the person to whom the honour of that invention is due; but the evidences seem to preponderate in favour of Terpander, a celebrated poet and musician, whose genius music is much indebted. He flourished about the 27th Olympiad, or 671 years before Christ.

Before that valuable discovery, music being entirely traditional, must have depended much on the memory and taste of the performer.

There is an incident mentioned in the accounts handed down to us of the Olympic games, which may serve in some degree to mark the character of music at the time in which it happened. Lucian relates that a young flute-player named Harmonides, at his first public appearance in these games, began a solo with so violent a blast, on purpose to surprise and elevate the audience, that he breathed his last breath into his flute, and died on the spot. When to this anecdote, wonderful to us, and almost incredible, is added that circumstance, that the trumpet-players at these public exhibitions expressed an excess of joy when they found their exertions had neither rent their cheeks nor burst their blood-vessels, some idea may be formed of the noisy and vociferous style of music which then prevailed; and from such facts only can any opinion be obtained of the actual state of ancient music.

In whatever manner the flute was played on, there is no doubt that it was long in Greece an instrument of high favour, and that the flute-players were held in much estimation. The flute used by Ifmenias, a celebrated Theban musician, cost at Corinth three talents, or £81. 5s. If, says Xenophon, a bad flute-player would pass for a good one, he must, like the great flute-players, expend large sums on rich furniture, and appear in public with a great retinue of servants.

The ancients, it appears, were not less extravagant in gratifying the ministers of their pleasures than ourselves. Amebebas, a harper, was paid an Attic talent, or £93. 1s. per day for his performance (B).

It is proper to add, that the celebrated musicians of Greece who performed in public were of both sexes; and that the beautiful Lamia, who was taken captive by Demetrius, in the sea engagement in which he vanquished Ptolemy Soter, and who herself captivated her conqueror, was a public performer, as well as were many other elevated female spirits, who are recorded by ancient authors in terms of admiration, and of whom, did our limits here admit of biography, we would treat with pleasure. The philosophers of Greece, whose capacious minds grasped every other object of human intelligence, were not inattentive to the theory of music, or the philosophy of sound. This department of science became the source of various sects, and of much diversity of opinion.—The founders of the most distinguished sects were Pythagoras and Aristothenes.

Like every other people, the Romans, from their Roman first origin as a nation, were possessed of a species of music which might be distinguished as their own. It appears to have been rude and coarse, and probably was a variation of the music in use among the Etruscans and other tribes around them in Italy; but as soon as they began to open a communication with Greece, from that country, with their arts and philosophy, they borrowed also their music and musical instruments. No account, therefore, of Roman music is to be expected that would not be a repetition of what has been said on the subject of the music of Greece.

The excessive vanity of Nero with respect to music, displayed in his public contentions for superiority with the most celebrated professors of the art in Greece and Rome, is known to every one conversant in the history of Rome. The solicitude with which that detestable tyrant attended to his voice is curious, and will throw some light on the practices of singers in ancient times. He was in use to lie on his back, with a thin plate of lead on his stomach. He took frequent emetics and cathartics, obtained from all kinds of fruits and such meats as were held to be prejudicial to singing. Apprehensive of injuring his voice, he at length desisted from haranguing the soldiery and the senate; and after his return from Greece established an officer (Phonacius) to regulate his tones in speaking.

Most nations have consented in introducing music into their religious ceremonies. That art was early admitted into the rites of the Egyptians and Hebrews; and that it constituted a considerable part of the Grecian and Roman religious service, appears from the writings of many ancient authors. The same pleasing art soon obtained an introduction into the Christian church, as the Acts of the Apostles discover in many passages. There remain no specimens of the music employed in the worship of the primitive Christians; but probably it was at first the same with that used in the Pagan rites of the Greeks and Romans. The practice

(B) Rofcius gained 500 sesterzia, or £436l. 9s. 2d. sterling. practice of chanting the psalms was introduced into the western churches by St Ambrose, about 350 years after Christ. In the year 600, the method of chanting was improved by St Gregory the Great. The Ambrosian chant contained four modes. In the Gregorian the number was doubled. So early as the age of Constantine the Great, prior to either of the periods last mentioned, when the Christian religion first obtained the countenance of power, instrumental music came to be introduced into the service of the church.

In England, according to Bishop Stillington, music was employed in the church service, first by St Augustine, and afterwards much improved by St Dunstan, who was himself an eminent musician, and who is said to have first furnished the English churches and convents with the organ. The organ, the most majestic of all instruments, seems to have been an improvement of the hydraulicon or water organ of the Greeks.

The first organ seen in France was sent from Constantinople in 757, as a present to King Pepin from the emperor Constantine Copronymus VI. In Italy, Germany, and England, that instrument became frequent during the 10th century.

During the dark ages no work of genius or taste in any department of science seems to have been produced in any part of Europe; and except in Italy, where the cultivation of music was rather more the object of attention, that art was neglected equally with all others. There has always been observed a correspondence in every country between the progress of music and the cultivation of other arts and sciences. In the middle ages, therefore, when the most fertile provinces of Europe were occupied by the Goths, Huns, Vandals, and other barbarous tribes, whose language was as harsh as their manners were savage, little perfection and no improvement of music is to be looked for. Literature, arts, and refinements, were encouraged more early at the courts of the Roman pontiffs than in any other country; and owing to that circumstance it is, that the scale, the counterpoint, the best melodies, the dramas religious and secular, the chief graces and elegancies of modern music, have derived their origin from Italy. In modern times, Italy has been to the rest of Europe what ancient Greece was to Rome. The Italians have aided the civilization of their conquerors, and enlightened the minds of those whose superior prowess had enslaved them.

Having mentioned counterpoint, it would be improper not to make one or two observations on an invention which is supposed to have been the source of great innovation in the practice of music. Counterpoint, or music in parts, seems to be an invention purely modern. The term harmony meant in the language of antiquity what is now understood by melody. Guido, a monk of Arezzo in Tuscany, is, in the general opinion, supposed to have entertained the first idea of counterpoint about the year 1022: an art which, since his time, has experienced gradual and imperceptible improvements, far exceeding the powers or comprehension of any one individual. The term counterpoint, or contra punctum, denotes its own etymology and import. Musical notation was at one time performed by small points; and the present mode is only an improvement of that practice. Counterpoint, therefore, denotes the notation of harmony or music in parts, by points opposite to each other. The improvements of this important acquisition to the art of music kept pace at first with those of the organ; an instrument admirably adapted to harmony. And both the one and the other were till the 13th century employed chiefly in sacred music. It was at this period that sacred music began to be cultivated.

Before the invention of characters for time, music in parts must have consisted entirely of simple counterpoint, or note against note, as is still practised in psalmody. But the happy discovery of a time-table extended infinitely the powers of combined sounds. The ancients had no other resource to denote time and movement in music except two characters (—), equivalent to a long and a short syllable. But time is of such importance in music, that it can impart meaning and energy to the repetition of the same sound. Without it variety of tones has no effect with respect to gravity and acuteness. The invention of the time-table is attributed by almost all the writers on music of the last and present century to John de Muris, who flourished about the year 1330. But in a manuscript of John de Muris himself, bequeathed to the Vatican library by the Queen of Sweden, that honour seems to be yielded to Magister Franco, who appears to have been alive as late as at least 1083. John de Muris, however, who there is some cause to believe was an Englishman, though not the inventor of the cantus mensurabilis, did certainly by his numerous writings greatly improve it. His tract on the Art of Counterpoint is the most clear and useful essay on the subject of which those times can boast.

In the 11th century, during the first crusade, Europe began to emerge from the barbarous stupidity and ignorance which had long overwhelmed it. While its inhabitants were exercising in Asia every species of rapine and pious cruelty, art, ingenuity, and reason, insensibly civilized and softened their minds. Then it was that the poets and songsters, known by the name of Troubadours, who first appeared in Provence, instituted a new profession; which obtained the patronage of the count of Poitou, and many other princes and barons, who had themselves cultivated music and poetry with success. At the courts of their munificent patrons the troubadours were treated with respect. The ladies, whose charms they celebrated, gave them the most generous and flattering reception. The success of some inspired others with hopes, and excited exertions in the exercise of their art; impelling them towards perfection with a rapidity which the united force alone of emulation and emolument could occasion. These founders of modern versification, constructing their songs on plans of their own, classical authority, either through ignorance or design, was entirely disregarded. It does not appear, however, during the cultivation and favour of Provençal literature, that any one troubadour so far outstripped the rest as to become a model of imitation. The progress of taste must ever be impeded by the ignorance and caprice of those who cultivate an art without science or principles.

During almost two centuries after the arrangement of the scale attributed to Guido, and the invention of the time-table ascribed to Franco, no remains of secular music can be discovered, except those of the troubadours or Provencal poets. In the simple tunes of these bards no time indeed is marked, and but little variety of notation appears: It is not difficult, however, to discover in them the germs of the future melodies, as well as the poetry of France and Italy. Had the poetry and music of the troubadours been treated of in an agreeable manner by the writers who have chosen that subject, it would have been discovered to be worthy of attention; the poetry, as interesting to literature; the melody to which it was sung, as curious to the musical historian.

Almost every species of Italian poetry is derived from the Provencals. Air, the most captivating part of secular vocal music, seems to have had the same origin. The most ancient strains that have been spared by time, are such as were set to the songs of the troubadours. The Provencal language began to be in favour with poets about the end of the 13th century. In the 14th it became the general vehicle, not only of poetry, but of prose, to all who were ignorant of Latin. And these were not the laity only. At this period viols, or performers on the vielle or viol, juglars or flute-players, musiciors or players on other instruments, and comedians or comedians, abounded all over Europe. This swarm of poet-musicians, who were formerly comprehended in France under the general title of jongleurs, travelled from province to province, singing their verses at the courts of princes. They were rewarded with clothes, horses, arms, and money. Jongleurs or musicians were employed often to sing the verses of troubadours, who themselves happened to be deficient in voice or ignorant of music. The term troubadour, therefore, implies poetry as well as music. The jongleurs, menestriers, strollers, or minstrels, were frequently musicians, without any pretensions to poetry. These last have been common at all times; but the troubadour or bard has distinguished a particular profession, either in ancient or modern times, only during the early dawns of literature.

In the 13th century the songs were on various subjects; moral, merry, amorous: and at that time melody seems to have been little more than plain song or chanting. The notes were square, and written on four lines only like those of the Roman church in the cliff C, and without any marks for time. The movement and embellishments of the air depended on the abilities of the finger. Since that time, by the cultivation of the voice modern music has been much extended, for it was not till towards the end of St Lewis's reign that the fifth line began to be added to the stave. The finger always accompanied himself with an instrument in unison.

As the lyre is the favourite instrument in Grecian poetry, so the harp held the same place in the estimation of the poets who flourished in the period of which we at present speak. A poet of the 14th century, Machau, wrote a poem on the subject of the harp alone; in which he assigns to each of its 25 strings an allegorical name; calling one liberality, another wealth, &c.

The instrument which frequently accompanied, and indeed disputed the pre-eminence with the harp, was the viol. Till the 16th century this instrument was furnished with frets; after that period it was reduced to four strings; and still under the denomination of violins holds the first place among the treble instruments. The viol was played with a bow, and differed entirely from the vielle, the tones of which were produced by the friction of a wheel: The wheel performed the part of a bow.

British harpers were famous long before the conquest. The bounty of William of Normandy to his joculator or bard is recorded in the Doomsday book. The harp seems to have been the favourite instrument in Britain for many ages, under the British, Saxon, Danish, and Norman kings. The fiddle, however, is mentioned so early as 1200 in the legendary life of St Christopher. The ancient privileges of the minstrels at the fairs of Chester are well known in the history of England.

The extirpation of the bards of Wales by Edward I. is likewise too familiar an incident to be particularly mentioned here. His persecuting spirit, however, seems to have been limited to that principality; for we learn that at the ceremony of knighting his son, a multitude of minstrels attended.

In 1315, during the reign of Edward II. such extensive privileges were claimed by the minstrels, and so many dissolute persons assumed that character, that it became necessary to restrain them by express laws.

The father of our genuine poetry, who in the 14th century enlarged our vocabulary, polished our numbers, and with acquisitions from France and Italy augmented our store of knowledge (Chaucer), entitles one of his poems The History of St Cecilia; and the celebrated patroness of music must no doubt be mentioned in a history of the art. Neither in Chaucer, however, nor in any of the histories or legendary accounts of this saint, does anything appear to authorize the religious veneration paid to her by the votaries of music; nor is it easy to discover whence it has arisen.

As an incident relative to the period of which we speak, it may be mentioned, that, according to Spelman, the appellation of Doctor was not among the degrees granted to graduates in England sooner than the reign of King John, about 1297; although, in Wood's history of Oxford, that degree is said to have been conferred, even in music, in the reign of Henry II. It is known that the title was created on the continent in the 12th century; and as, during the middle ages, music was always ranked among the seven liberal arts, it is likely that the degree was extended to it.

After the invention of printing, an art which has tended to disseminate knowledge with wonderful rapidity among mankind, music, and particularly counterpoint, became an object of high importance. The names of the most eminent composers who flourished in England, from that time to the Reformation, were, Fairfax, William of Newark, Sheryngham, Turges, Banister, Tudor, Taverner, Ty, Johnston, Parsons; to whom may be added John Marbeck, who set the whole English cathedral service to music.

Before this period Scottish music had advanced to a high degree of perfection. James I. was a great musician, composer of airs to his own verses; and may be considered dered as the father of that plaintive melody which in Scotch tunes is so pleasing to a taste not vitiated by modern affectation. Besides the testimony of Fordun and Major, who may be suspected of being under the influence of national prejudice, we have that of Alessandro Tassoni, to the musical skill of that accomplished prince. "Among us moderns (says this foreigner) we may reckon James king of Scotland, who not only composed many sacred pieces of vocal music, but also of himself invented a new kind of music, plaintive and melancholy, different from all others; in which he has been initiated by Carlo Gesualdo prince of Venosa, who in our age has improved music with new and admirable inventions."

Under such a genius in poetry and music as King James I., it cannot be doubted that the national music must have been greatly improved. We have seen that he composed several anthems, or vocal pieces of sacred music, which shows that his knowledge of the science must have been very considerable. It is likewise known, that organs were by him introduced into the cathedrals and abbeys of Scotland, and choir-service brought to such a degree of perfection, as to fall little short of that established in any country of Europe.

By an able and ingenious antiquary * the great era of music, as of poetry, in Scotland, is supposed to have been from the beginning of the reign of James I. down to the end of the reign of James V. During that period flourished Gavin Douglas bishop of Dunkeld, Ballenden archdeacon of Murray, Dunbar, Henryson, Scott, Montgomery, Sir David Lindsay, and many others, whose fine poems have been preserved in Bannatyne's Collection, and of which several have been published by Allan Ramsay in his Evergreen.

Before the Reformation, as there was but one religion, there was but one kind of sacred music in Europe, plain chant, and the descant built upon it. That music likewise was applied to one language only, the Latin. On that account, the compositions of Italy, France, Spain, Germany, Flanders, and England, kept pace in a great degree with each other in style and excellence. All the arts seem to have been the companions, if not the produce, of successful commerce: they appeared first in Italy, then in the Hanseatic towns, next in the Netherlands; and during the 16th century, when commerce became general in every part of Europe.

In the 16th century music was an indispensable part of polite education: All the princes of Europe were instructed in that art. There is a collection preserved in manuscript called Queen Elizabeth's Virginal Book. If her majesty was able to execute any of the pieces in that book, she must have been a great player; a month's practice would not be sufficient for any matter now in Europe to enable him to play one of them to the end. Tallis, singularly profound in musical composition, and Bird his admirable scholar, were two of the authors of this famous collection.

During the reign of Elizabeth, the genius and learning of the British musicians were not inferior to any on the continent; an observation scarcely applicable at any other period of the history of this country. Sacred music was the principal object to study all over Europe.

The most eminent musical theorists of Italy, who flourished in the 16th century, were, Franchinus Gaffurius, or Gafforio of Lodi, Pietro Aaron of Florence, Lodovico Fogliano, Giov. Spero, Giov. Magri da Terentio Lanfranco, Steffano Uanneo, Anton. 16th cent. Francisco Dono, Luigi Dentice, Nicola Vicentino, and Gioseffo Zarlino, the most general, voluminous, and celebrated theorist of that period, Vincentio Galilei, a Florentine nobleman, and father of the great Galileo Galilei, Maria Artufo of Bologna, Orafeo Tergrini, Pietro Pontio, and Lodovico Zacconi.

The principal Roman authors were, Giovanni Anmuccia, Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina, justly celebrated, Ruggiero Giovanelli, Luca Marenzio, who brought to perfection madrigals, the most cheerful species of secular music.

Of the Venetians, Adrian Willaert is allowed to be at the head.

At the head of the Neapolitans is deservedly placed Rocco Rodio.

At Naples, too, the illustrious dilettante, Don Carlo Gesualdo prince of Venosa, is highly celebrated. He seems, however, to have owed much of his fame to his high rank.

Lombardy might also furnish an ample list of eminent musicians during the 16th century, of whom, however, our limits will not admit of a particular enumeration:

The chief of them were, Costanzo Porta, Gastoldi, Biffi, Cima, Vocchi, and Monteverde.

At Bologna, besides Artusi already mentioned, Andrea Rota of the same city appears to have been an admirable contrapunctist.

Francisco Cortecchia, a celebrated organist and composer, and Alessandro Striggio, a lutenist and voluminous composer, were the most eminent Florentines.

The inhabitants of the extensive empire of Germany have long made music a part of general education. They hold the place, next to Italy, among the most successful cultivators of the art. During the 16th century, their most eminent composers of music and writers on the subject were, Geo. Reichsich, Michael Rofwick, Andreas Ornithorparclus, Paul Hofhaimer, Luspeinius, Henry Loris or Lorit, Faber, Fink, Hoffman, and many others whom it would be tedious to mention; and for a particular account of whose treaties and compositions we must refer to more voluminous histories of music.

In France, during, the 16th century, no art except the art of war made much progress in improvement. Ronfard, Baif, Goudimel, Claud le Jeune, Cauroy, and Maudit, are the chief French musicians of that period.

In Spain, music was early received into the circle of sciences in the universities. The musical professorship at Salamanca was founded and endowed by Alfonso the Wise, king of Castile.

One of the most celebrated of the Spanish musicians was Francis Salinas, who had been blind from his infancy. He was a native of Burgos.

D. Cristoforo Moraes, and Tomaso Lodovico da Vittorio, deserve likewise to be mentioned; and to mention them is all we can attempt; the purpose of which is, to excite more minute inquiry by those who may choose to investigate the subject particularly.

The Netherlands, likewise, during the period of which we have been speaking, produced eminent composers; of whom we may mention Verletot, Gombert, Arka- delt, Berchem, Richefort or Ricciafort, Crequillon Le Cock or Le Coq, Canis, Jacob Clemens Non Papa, Pierre Manchicourt, Bafton, Kerl, Rose, Orlandi di Lafia, and his sons Ferdinand and Rodolph.

In the 17th century, the musical writers and com- posers who acquired fame in England, were, Dr Na- thanael Giles, Thomas Tomkins, and his son of the same name; Elway Bevin, Orlando Gibbons, Dr Wil- liam Child, Adrian Batten, Martin Pieron, William Lawes, Henry Lawes, Dr John Wilson, John Hilton, John Playford, Captain Henry Cook, Pelham Hum- phrey, John Blow, William Turner, Dr Christopher Gibbons, Benjamin Rogers, and Henry Purcell. Of these, Orlando Gibbons, Pelham Humphrey, and Henry Purcell, far excelled the rest.

About the end of the reign of James I., a music lec- ture or professorship was founded in the university of Oxford by Dr William Hychin.

In the reign of Charles I., a charter was granted to the musicians of Westminster, incorporating them, as the king's musicians, into a body politic, with powers to prosecute and fine all who, except themselves, should "attempt to make any benefit or advantage of music in England or Wales?" powers which in the subsequent reign were put in execution.

About the end of the reign of Charles II., a pas- sion seems to have been excited in England for the violin, and for pieces expressly composed for it, in the Italian manner (B). Prior to 1660, there was little other music except masques and madrigals, the two principal divisions of sacred and secular music; but from that time to the present, dramatic music becomes the chief object of attention. The music of the church and of the chamber continued indeed to be cultivated in Italy with diligence, and in a learned and elaborate style, till near the middle of the century; yet a revo- lution in favour of melody and expression was prepar- ing, even in sacred music, by the success of dramatic composition, consisting of recitation and melodies for a single voice. Such melodies began now to be pre- ferred to music of many parts; in which canons, fugues, and full harmony, had been the productions which chiefly employed the master's study and the hearer's attention.

So late as the beginning of the 18th century, ac- cording to Riccoboni, the performers in the operas of Germany, particularly at Hamburg, "were all trade-men or handicrafts. Your shoemaker (says he) was often the first performer on the stage; and you might have bought fruit and sweetmeats of the same girls, whom the night before you had seen in the char- acters of Armida or Semiramis. Soon, however, the German opera arose to a more respectable situation; and even during the 17th century many eminent composers flourished in that country."

The list of great musicians which France produced during the early part of the same century is not nu- merous. Music seems to have been but little culti- vated in that country, till the operas of Lulli, under the powerful patronage of Louis XIV., excited public attention.

The favourite singing-master and composer of France, about the middle of the 17th century, was Michael Lambert. John Baptist Lulli, soon after this time, rose from the rank of a menial servant to fame, opulence, and nobility, by his skill in musical compositions. The celebrated singer La Rochois was taught singing and acting by Lulli.

La Maupin the successor of La Rochois, on ac- count of her extraordinary character and romantic ad- ventures, deserves to be mentioned. She eloped from her husband with a fencing-master, of whom she learnt the small sword. She became an excellent fencer. At Marfeilles she entertained a strange attachment to a young lady, who was seized with a whimsical fondness in return, on account of which the latter was confined in a convent. La Maupin obtained admission into the same convent as a novice. She set fire to the building, and in the confusion carried off her favourite. At Paris when she appeared on the stage in 1693, Dumeni a finger having affronted her, she put on men's clothes, and insisted on his drawing his sword and fighting her. When he refused, she caned him, and took from him his watch and snuff-box as trophies of her victory. At a ball given by Monseigneur brother of Louis XIV., she again put on men's clothes; and having behaved im- pertinently to a lady, three of the lady's friends, suppo- sing La Maupin to be a man, called her out. She killed them all; and returning coolly to the ball, told the story to Monseigneur, who obtained her pardon. She became afterwards mistress to the elector of Bavaria. This prince quitting her for the countess of Arcos, sent her by the count, husband of that lady, a purse of 40,000 livres. She threw it at the count's head, telling him, it was a recompense worthy of such meanness as he displayed. At last, seized with a fit of devotion, she recalled her husband, and spent the remainder of her life in piety. She died in 1707 at the age only of 34.

The English musician whom we last mentioned was Chief com- poser for the church were Clarke, Dr Holden, Dr Creighton, Tucker, Aldrich, Golwin, Weldon, Dr Crofts, Dr Greene, Boyce, and Nares; to whom may be added John Stanley, who attained high proficiency in music, although from two years old totally deprived of sight.

The annals of modern music have hitherto furnished no event so important to the progress of the art as the invention of recitative or dramatic melody; a style of music which resembles the manner of the ancient rhapsodists.

The Orfeo of Politian was the first attempt at mu- sical drama. It was afterwards perfected by Metastas- io. No musical dramas similar to those afterwards known.

(B) The most celebrated violin players of Italy, from the 16th century to the present time, have been Farina, M. Angelo Rossi, Bassani the violin-master of Corelli, the admirable Angelico Corelli himself, Torelli, Alberti, Albenoni, Tezzerini, Vivaldi, Geminiani one of the most distinguished of Corelli's scholars, Tartini, Veracini; Barbella, Locatelli, Ferrari, Martini, Boccherini, and Giardini. known by the names of opera and oratorio, had existence in Italy before the beginning of the 17th century. It was about the 1620s, or a little before that time, that eunuchs were first employed for singing in Italy.

There seem to have been no singing eunuchs in ancient times, unless the galli or archigalli, priests of Cybele, were such. Castration has, however, at all times been practised in eastern countries, for the purpose of furnishing to tyrannic jealous guards of female chastity; but never, so far as modern writers on the subject have discovered, merely to preserve the voice, till about the end of the 16th century.

At Rome, the first public theatre opened for the exhibition of musical dramas, in modern times, was il Torre de Nonna, where in 1671 Giafona was performed. In 1679, the opera of Dou è Amore, set by the famous composer Bernardo Pasquini, was represented at Nilla Sala de Signori Capranica; a theatre which still subsists. In the year 1682, L'Onofria negl' Amore was exhibited; the first dramatic composition of the elegant, profound, and original Alessandro Scarlatti.

The inhabitants of Venice have cultivated and encouraged the musical drama with more zeal and diligence than the rest of Italy, during the end of the last and beginning of the present century; yet the opera was not established in Venice before the year 1637. In that year the first regular drama was performed. It was Andromeda.

In 1683 the opera of Berenice was exhibited at Padua with such astonishing splendour as to merit notice. There were choruses of 100 virgins, 100 soldiers, 100 horsemen in iron armour, 40 cornets of horse, 6 trumpeters on horseback, 6 drummers, 6 ensigns, 6 sackbutts, 6 great flutes, 6 minstrels playing on Turkish instruments, 6 others on octave flutes, 6 pages, 3 sergeants, 6 cymbalists. There were 12 huntmen, 12 grooms, 6 coachmen for the triumph; 6 others for the procession; 2 lions led by two Turks, 2 elephants by two others, Berenice's triumphal car drawn by 4 horses, 6 other cars with prisoners and spoils drawn by 12 horses, 6 coaches. Among the scenes and representations in the first act were, a vast plain with two triumphal arches, another plain with pavilions and tents, and a forest for the chase. In act third, the royal dressing room completely furnished, stables with 100 live horses, portico adorned with tapestry, and a stupendous palace in perspective. At the end of the first act were representations of every kind of chase, wild boar, stag, deer, bears. At the end of the third act, an enormous globe, descending as from the sky, divided itself into other globes suspended in the air, and ornamented with emblematical figures of time, fame, honour, &c.

Early in the last century, machinery and decoration usurped the importance due to poetry and music in such exhibitions.

Few instances occur of musical dramas at Naples till the beginning of the present century. Before the time of the elder Scarlatti, it seems as if Naples had been less fertile in great contrapuntists, and less diligent in the cultivation of dramatic music, than any other state of Italy. Since that time all the rest of Europe has been furnished with composers and performers from that city.

The word opera seems to have been familiar to French English poets from the beginning of the last century, and king opera Stilo recitativo, a recent innovation even in Italy, is mentioned by Ben Jonson so early as 1617. From this time it was used in masques, occasionally in plays, and in cantatas, before a regular drama wholly set to music was attempted. By the united abilities of Quinault and Lulli, the opera in France had arisen to high favour. This circumstance afforded encouragement to several attempts at dramatic music in England by Sir William D'Avenant and others, before the music, language, or performers of Italy were employed on our stage. Pieces, styled dramatic operas, preceded the Italian opera on the stage of England. These were written in English, and exhibited with a profuse decoration of scenery and habits, and with the best singers and dancers that could be procured: Psyche and Circe are entertainments of this kind: The Tempest and Macbeth were acted with the same accompaniments.

During the 17th century, whatever attempts were made in musical drama, the language sung was always English. About the end of that century, however, Italian singing began to be encouraged, and vocal as well as instrumental musicians from that country began to appear in London.

The first musical drama, performed wholly after the Italian manner in recitative for the dialogue or narrative parts, and measured melody for the airs, was Arfinoe Queen of Cyprus, translated from an Italian opera of the same name, written by Stanzani of Bologna. The English version of this opera was set to music by Thomas Clayton, one of the royal band, in the reign of William and Mary. The singers were all English, Messrs Hughes, Leveredge, and Cook; Mrs Tofts, Mrs Crofs, and Mrs Lyndley. The translation of Arfinoe, and the music to which it is set, are execrable; yet such is the charm of novelty, that this miserable performance, deserving neither the name of a drama by its poetry, nor of an opera by its music, sustained 24 representations, and the second year II.

Operas, notwithstanding their deficiencies in poetry, music and performance (no foreign composer or eminent singer having yet arrived), became so formidable to our actors at the theatres, that it appears from the Daily Courant, 14th January 1707, a subscription was opened "for the encouragement of the comedians acting in the Haymarket, and to enable them to keep the diversion of plays under a separate interest from operas."

Mr Addison's opera of Rosamond appeared about this time; but the music set by Clayton is so contemptible, that the merit of the poetry, however great, could not of itself long support the piece. The choice of so mean a composer as Clayton, and Mr Addison's partiality to his abilities, betray a want of musical taste in that elegant author.

The first truly great singer who appeared on the stage of Britain was Cavalier Niccolino Grimaldi, commonly known by the name of Nicolini. He was a Neapolitan; and though a beautiful singer indeed, was still more eminent as an actor. In the Tatler, No. 115, the elegance and propriety of his action are particularly described*. Recently before his appearance, Valentini Urbani, and a female singer called The vol. i. No. 3 R Buronelis, 13. Baroness, arrived. Margarita del'Epini, who afterwards married Dr Pepusch, had been in this country some time before.

The first opera performed wholly in Italian, and by Italian fingers, was Almhide. As at present, so at that time, operas were generally performed twice a week.

The year 1740 is distinguished in the annals of music by the arrival in Britain of George Frederick Handel. Handel had been in the service of the elector of Hanover, and came first to England on a visit of curiosity. The fame of this great musician had penetrated into this country before he himself arrived in it; and Aaron Hill, then in the direction of the Haymarket theatre, instantly applied to him to compose an opera. It was Rinaldo; the admirable music of which he produced entirely in a fortnight. Soon after this period appeared, for the first time as an opera singer, the celebrated Mrs Anastasia Robinson. Mrs Robinson, who was the daughter of a portrait painter, made her first public exhibitions in the concerts at York-buildings; and acquired so much the public favour, that her father was encouraged to take a house in Golden Square, for the purpose of establishing weekly concerts and assemblies, in the manner of Conservazioni, which became the resort of the most polite audiences.

Soon after Mrs Robinson accepted an engagement at the Opera, where her salary is said to have been £100, and her other emoluments equal to that sum. She quitted the stage in consequence of her marriage with the gallant earl of Peterborough, the friend of Pope and Swift. The eminent virtues and accomplishments of this lady, who died at the age of 88, entitled her to be mentioned even in a compend too short for biography.

The conducting the opera having been found to be more expensive than profitable, it was entirely suspended from 1717 till 1720, when a fund of £50,000 for supporting and carrying it on was subscribed by the first personages of the kingdom. The subscribers, of whom King George I. was one for £1000, were formed into a society, and named The Royal Academy of Music. Handel was commissioned to engage the performers: For that purpose he went to Dresden, where Italian operas were at that time performed in the most splendid manner at the court of Augustus elector of Saxony, then king of Poland. Here Handel engaged Senesino-Berenstadt, Bocchi, and the Duranti.

In the 1723, the celebrated Francesca Cuzzoni appeared as a first rate singer; and two years afterwards arrived her distinguished rival Signora Faustina Bordoni.

In a cantabile air, though the notes Cuzzoni added were few, she never lost an opportunity of enriching the cantilena with the most beautiful embellishments. Her shake was perfect. She possessed a creative fancy; and she enjoyed the power of occasionally accelerating and retarding the measure in the most artificial and able manner, by what is in Italy called tempo rubato. Her high notes were unrivalled in clearness and sweetness. Her intonations were so just and so fixed, that it seemed as if she had not the power to sing out of tune.

Faustina Bordoni, wife of the celebrated Saxon composer Halle, invented a new kind of singing, by running divisions, with a neatness and velocity which astonished all who heard her. By taking her breath imperceptibly, she had the art of sustaining a note apparently longer than any other finger. Her beats and trills were strong and rapid; her intonation perfect. Her professional perfections were enhanced by a beautiful face, fine symmetry of figure, and a countenance and gesture on the stage which indicated an entire intelligence and possession of the several parts allotted to her.

These two angelic performers excited so signally the attention of the public, that a party spirit between the abettors of the one and of the other was formed, as violent and as inveterate almost as any of those that had ever occurred relative to matters either theological or political; yet so distinct were their styles of singing, so different their talents, that the praise of the one was no reproach to the other.

In less than seven years, the whole £50,000 subscribed by the Royal Academy, besides the produce of admission to non-subscribers, was expended, and the governor and directors of the society relinquished the idea of continuing their engagements; consequently, at the close of the season 1727, the whole band of fingers dispersed. The next year we find Senesino, Fauflina, Balde, Cuzzoni, Nicolini, Farinelli, and Bocchi, at Venice.

Handel, however, at his own risk, after a suspension of about a twelvemonth, determined to recommence the Opera; and accordingly engaged a band of performers entirely new. These were Signor Bernacchi, Signora Marighi, Signora Strada, Signor Anibale Pio Fabri, his wife, Signora Bertoldi, and John Godfrid Reimichneider.

The sacred musical drama, or oratorio, was invented early in the 14th century. Every nation in Europe of the oratorio, and its introduction in Italy during the last century. They had never been publicly introduced in England, till Handel, stimulated by the rivalry of other adventurers, exhibited in 1732 his oratorios of Esther, and of Acis and Galatea, the last of which he had composed twelve years before for the duke of Chandos's chapel at Cannons. The most formidable opposition which Handel met with in his conduct of the Italian opera was a new theatre for exhibiting these operas, opened by subscription in Lincoln's-inn-Fields, under the conduct of Nicola Porpora, a respectable composer. A difference having occurred between Handel and Senesino; Senesino had for some time deserted the Haymarket, where Handel managed, and was now engaged at the rival theatre of Lincoln's-inn Fields. To supply the place of Senesino, Handel brought over Giovanni Carefini, a singer of the most extensive powers. His voice was at first a powerful and clear soprano: Afterwards it changed into the fullest, finest, deepest counter-tenor that has perhaps ever been heard. Carefini's person was tall, beautiful, and majestic. He rendered every thing he sung interesting by energy, taste, and judicious embellishment. In the execution of difficult divisions from the chest, his manner was articulate and admirable. It was the opinion of Haffe, as well as other eminent professors, that whoever had not heard Carefini, was unacquainted with the most perfect style of singing. The opera under the direction of Porpora was removed to the Haymarket, which Handel had left. Handel occupied the theatre of Lincoln's Inn Fields; but his rivals now acquired a vast advantage of attraction, by the acception of Carlo Broschi detto Farinelli to their part, who at this time arrived. This renowned singer seems to have transcended the limit of all anterior vocal excellence. No vocal performer of the present century has been so unanimously allowed to possess an uncommon power, sweetness, extent, and agility of voice, as Farinelli. Nicolini, Senefino, and Carefini, gratified the eye as much by the dignity, grace, and propriety of their action and deportment, as the ear, by the judicious use of a few notes within the limits of a small compass of voice; but Farinelli, without the assistance of significant gestures or graceful attitudes, enchanted and astonished his hearers, by the force, extent, and mellifluous tones of the mere organ, when he had nothing to execute, articulate, or express. Though during the time of singing he was as motionless as a statue, his voice was so active that no intervals were too close, too wide, or too rapid, for his execution.

Handel having lost a great part of his fortune by the opera, was under the necessity of trying the public gratitude in a benefit, which was not disgraced by the event. The theatre, for the honour of the nation, was so crowded, that he is said to have cleared £1000.

After a fruitless attempt by Heidegger, the coadjutor of Handel in the conduct of the opera, and patron of the King's Theatre in Haymarket, to procure a subscription for continuing it, it was found necessary to give up the undertaking.

It was about this time that the statue of Handel was erected in Vauxhall, at the expense of Mr Tyers, proprietor of those gardens.

The next year (1739) Handel carried on oratorios at the Haymarket, as the opera there was suspended. The earl of Middlesex now undertook the troublesome office of impresario of the Italian opera. He engaged the King's theatre, with a band of singers from the continent almost entirely new. Calluppi was his composer. Handel, almost ruined, retired at this time to Ireland, where he remained a considerable time. In 1744 he again attempted oratorios at the King's theatre, which was then, and till 1746, unoccupied by the opera, on account of the rebellion.

The arrival of Giardini in London this year forms a memorable era in the history of instrumental music of England. His powers on the violin were unequalled. The same year Dr Croza, then manager of the opera, eloped, leaving the performers, and innumerable trades people, his creditors. This incident put an end to operas of all kinds for some time.

This year a comic opera, called *Il Filosofo di Campagna*, composed by Calluppi, was exhibited, which surpassed in musical merit all the comic operas performed in England till the *Bionca Figliuola*. Signora Paganini acquired such fame by the airs allotted to her in that piece, that the crowds at her benefit were beyond example. Caps were lost, gowns torn in pieces, and ladies in full dress, without servants or carriages, were obliged to walk home, amidst the merriment of the spectators on the streets.

At this period the arrival of Giovanni Manzoli marked 1764 and ed a splendid era in the annals of musical drama, by 1765, conferring on serious opera a degree of importance to which it had seldom yet arisen since its establishment in England. Manzoli's voice was the most powerful and voluminous soprano that had been heard since the time of Farinelli: His manner of singing was grand, and full of taste and dignity.

At this time Tenducci, who had been in England some time before, and was now returned much improved, performed in the station of second man to Manzoli.

Gaetano Guadagni made a great figure at this time. He had been in this country early in life (1748), as Guadagni, a famous man in a burletta troop of singers. His voice was then a full and well-toned counter tenor; but he sung wildly and carelessly. The excellence of his voice, however, attracted the notice of Handel, who assigned him the parts in his oratorios, the Messiah and Samson, which had been originally composed for Mrs Cibber. He quitted London for the first time about 1753. The highest expectations of his abilities were raised by fame before his second arrival, at the time of which we treat. As an actor he seems to have had no equal on any stage in Europe. His figure was uncommonly elegant and noble; his countenance replete with beauty, intelligence, and dignity; his attitudes were full of grace and propriety. Those who remembered his voice when formerly in England were now disappointed: It was comparatively thin and feeble: He had now changed it to a soprano, and extended its compass from six or seven notes to fourteen or fifteen. The music he sung was the most simple imaginable; a few notes with frequent pauses, and opportunities of being liberated from the composer and the band, were all he required. In these effusions, seemingly extemporaneous, he displayed the native power of melody unaided by harmony or even by uniform accompaniment: The pleasure he communicated proceeded principally from his artful manner of diminishing the tones of his voice, like the dying notes of the Æolian harp. Most other singers affect a swell, or mezza voce; but Guadagni, after beginning a note with force, attenuated it so delicately that it possessed all the effect of extreme distance.

During the season 1770 and 1771, Tenducci was the immediate successor of Guadagni. This performer, who appeared in England first only as a singer of the second or third class, was during his residence in Scotland and Ireland so much improved as to be well received as first man, not only on the stage of London, but in all the great theatres of Italy.

It was during this period that dancing seemed first to gain the ascendancy over music by the superior talents of Mademoiselle Heine, whose grace and execution were so perfect as to eclipse all other excellence.

In the first opera performed this season (*Lucio Vero*) appeared Miss Cecilia Davies, known in Italy by the name of L'Inglesina. Miss Davies had the honour of being the first English woman who had ever been thought worthy of singing on any stage in Italy. She even performed with eclat the principal female characters on many of the great theatres of that country. Gabrielli only on the Continent was said to surpass her. Her voice, though not of great volume, was clear and perfectly in tune; her shake was open and distinct, without the fluffiness of the French cadence. The flexibility of her throat rendered her execution equal to the most rapid divisions.

Next season introduced Venanzio Ravignini, a beautiful and animated young man; a composer as well as a singer.—His voice was sweet, clear, flexible; in compass more than two octaves.

The season 1775 and 1776 was rendered memorable by the arrival of the celebrated Caterina Gabrielli, styled early in life La Cucchetina, being the daughter of a cardinal's cook at Rome. She had, however, in her countenance and deportment no indications of low birth. Her manner and appearance depicted dignity and grace. So great was her reputation before her arrival in England for singing and for caprice, that the public, expecting perhaps in both too much, were unwilling to allow her due praise for her performance, and were apt to ascribe everything she did to pride and insolence. Her voice, though exquisite, was not very powerful. Her chief excellence having been the neatness and rapidity of her execution, the surprise of the public must have been much diminished on hearing her after Miss Davies, who sung many of the same songs in the same style, and with a neatness so nearly equal, that common hearers could distinguish no difference. The discriminating critic, however, might have discovered a superior sweetness in the natural tone of Gabrielli's voice, an elegance in the finishing of her musical periods or passages, an accent and precision in her divisions, superior not only to Miss Davies, but to every other singer of her time. In slow movements her pathetic powers, like those in general of performers most renowned for agility, were not exquisitely touching.

About the time of which we have been treating, the proprietors of the Pantheon ventured to engage Aguari at the enormous salary of 100l. per night, for singing two songs only: Lucrezia Aguari was a truly wonderful performer. The lower part of her voice was full, round, and of excellent quality; its compass amazing. She had two octaves of fair natural voice, from A on the fifth line in the bass to A on the sixth line in the treble, and beyond that in alt she had in early youth more than another octave. She has been heard to ascend to B b in altissimo. Her shake was open and perfect; her intonation true; her execution marked and rapid; the style of her singing, in the natural compass of her voice, grand and majestic.

In 1776 arrived Anna Pozzi, as successor to Gabrielli. She possessed a voice clear, sweet, and powerful; but her inexperience, both as an actress and as a singer, produced a contrast very unfavourable to her when compared with so celebrated a performer as Gabrielli. After that time, however, Pozzi, with more study and knowledge, became one of the best and most admired female singers in Italy.

After the departure of Aguari for the second and last time, the managers of the Pantheon engaged Georgi as her successor. Her voice was exquisitely fine, but totally uncultivated. She was thereafter employed as the first woman in the operas of the principal cities of Italy.

During the seasons 1777 and 1778, the principal Roncaglia singers at the opera in London were Francesco Roncaglia and Francesco Danze, afterwards Madame Le Brun.

Roncaglia possessed a sweet toned voice; but of the three great requisites of a complete stage singer, pathos, grace, and execution, which the Italians call cantabile, graziosa, and bravura, he could lay claim only to the second. His voice, a voce de camera, when confined to the graziosa in a room, left nothing to wish for.

Danze had a voice well in tune, a good shake, great execution, prodigious compass, with great knowledge of music; yet the pleasure her performance imparted was not equal to these accomplishments. But her object was not so much pathos and grace, as to surprise by the imitation of the tone and difficulties of instruments.

This year Gasparo Pacchierotti appeared in London, Pacchierotti, whither his high reputation had penetrated long before. The natural tone of his voice was interesting, sweet, and pathetic. His compass downwards was great, with an accent up to B b, and sometimes to C in alt. He possessed an unbounded fancy, and the power not only of executing the most difficult and refined passages, but of inventing embellishment entirely new. Ferdinando Bertoni, a well known composer, came along with Pacchierotti to Britain.

About this time dancing became an important branch Dancing of the amusements of the opera house. Mademoiselle gains the Heinel, M. Vestris le Jeune, Mademoiselle Baccelli, had, attending during some years, delighted the audience at the opera; but on the arrival of M. Vestris l'Ainé, pleasure was exchanged for ecstasy. In the year 1781, Pacchierotti had by this time been frequently heard, that his singing was no impediment to conversation; but while the elder Vestris was on the stage, not a breathing was to be heard. Those lovers of music who talked the loudest while Pacchierotti sang, were in agonies of terror lest the graceful movements of Vestris, le dieu de la danse, should be disturbed by audible approbation. After that time, the most mute and respectful attention was paid to the manly grace of Le Picq, and the light fantastic toe of the younger Vestris; to the Roffis, the Theodores, the Coulons, the Hillingburgs; while the lighted fingers were disturbed, not by the violence of applause, but the clamour of attention.

The year 1784 was rendered a memorable era in the Commemoration of music by the splendid and magnificent manner in which the birth and genius of Handel were celebrated in Westminster Abbey and the Pantheon, by five performances of pieces selected from his own works, and executed by a band of more than 500 voices and instruments, in the presence and under the immediate auspices of their majesties and the first personages of the kingdom. The commemoration of Handel has been since established as an annual musical festival for charitable purposes; in which the number of performers and the perfection of the performances have continued to increase. In 1785 the band, vocal and instrumental, amounted to 616; in 1786 to 741; in 1787 to 806; and in subsequent years to still greater numbers.

Dr Burney published An Account of the Musical Performances in Commemoration of Handel, for the benefit benefit of the Musical Fund. The members and guardians of that fund are now incorporated under the title of Royal Society of Musicians. See HANDEL.

This year Paechierotti and his friend Bertoni left England. About the same time our country was deprived of the eminent composer Sacchini, and Giardini the greatest performer on the violin now in Europe.

As a compensation for these losses, this memorable year is distinguished by the arrival of Madame Mara, whose performance in the commemoration of Handel in Westminster Abbey inspired an audience of 3000 of the first people of the kingdom, not only with pleasure but with ecstasy and rapture.

In 1786 arrived Giovanni Rubinelli. His voice was a true and full contralto from C in the middle of the scale to the octave above. His style was grand; his execution neat and distinct; his taste and embellishments new, elegant, and masterly.

In 1798 a new dance, composed by the celebrated M. Noverre, called Cupid and Psyche, was exhibited along with the opera La Locandiera, which produced an effect so uncommon as to deserve notice. So great was the pleasure it afforded to the spectators, that Noverre was unanimously brought on the stage and crowned with laurel by the principal performers. This, though common in France, was a new mark of approbation in England.

This year arrived Signor Luigi Marchesi, a singer whose talents have been the subject of praise and admiration on every great theatre of Europe. Marchesi's style of singing was not only elegant and refined in an uncommon degree, but often grand and full of dignity, particularly in his recitative and occasional low notes. His variety of embellishment and facility of running extemporaneous divisions were wonderful. Many of his graces were elegant and of his own invention.

The three greatest Italian singers of these times were certainly Paechierotti, Rubinelli, and Marchesi. In discriminating the several excellencies of these great performers, a very respectable judge, Dr Burney, has particularly praised the sweet and touching voice of Paechierotti; his fine shake, his exquisite taste, his great fancy, and his divine expression in pathetic songs:

Of Rubinelli's voice, the fulness, clearness, and majesty, the accuracy of his intonations, his judicious graces: Of Marchesi's voice, the elegance and flexibility, his grandeur in recitative, and his boundless fancy and embellishments.—Having mentioned Dr Burney, we are in justice bound to acknowledge the aid we have derived from his history; a work which we greatly prefer to every other modern production on the subject.

During the latter part of the 18th century many eminent composers flourished on the continent; such as Jomelli, the family of the Bachs, Gluck, Haydn, and many others, whose different styles and excellencies would well deserve to be particularized, would our limits permit. With the same regard to brevity, we can do no more than just mention the late king of Prussia, the late elector of Bavaria, and Prince Lobkowitz, as eminent dilettanti of modern times.

Besides the opera singers whom we have mentioned, our theatres and public gardens have exhibited singers of considerable merit. In 1730 Miss Rafter, afterwards the celebrated Mrs Clive, first appeared on the stage at Drury-lane as a singer. The same year introduced Miss Cecilia Young, afterwards the wife of Dr Arne. Her style of singing was infinitely superior to that of any other English woman of her time.

Our favourite musicians at this time were, Dubourg, Favourite Clegg, Clarke, and Feiling, on the violin; Kyte, musicians, on the hautboy; Jack Feiling on the German flute; Bafton on the common flute; Karba on the bassoon; Valentine Snow on the trumpet; and on the organ, Rosegrave, Green, Robinon, Magnus, Jack James, and the blind Stanley, who seems to have been preferred. The favourite playhouse singer was Salway; and at concerts Mountier of Chichester.

As composers for our national theatre, Pepusch and Galliard seem to have been unrivalled till 1732; when two competitors appeared, who were long in possession of the public favour: We allude to John Frederick Lampe and Thomas Augustus Arne.

In 1736 Mrs Cibber, who had captivated every hearer of sensibility by her native sweetness of voice and powers of expression as a singer, made her first attempt as a tragic actress. The same year Beard became a favourite singer at Covent-garden. At this time Miss Young, afterwards Mrs Arne, and her two sisters Isabella and Esther, were the favourite English female singers.

In 1738 was instituted the fund for the support of decayed musicians and their families.

It was in 1745 that Mr Tyers, proprietor of Vauxhall gardens, first added vocal music to the other entertainments of that place. A short time before Ranelagh had become a place of public amusement.

In 1749 arrived Giardini, whose great taste, hand, and style in playing on the violin, procured him universal admiration. A few years after his arrival he formed a morning academia or concert at his house, composed chiefly of his scholars.

About this time San Martini and Charles Avison were eminent composers.

Of near 150 musical pieces brought on our national theatres within 40 years, 38 of them at least were set by Arne. The style of this composer, if analyzed, would perhaps appear to be neither Italian nor English; but an agreeable mixture of both and of Scotch.

The late earl of Kelly, who died some years ago, deserves particular notice, as possessed of a very eminent degree of musical science, far superior to other dilettanti, and perhaps not inferior to any professor of his time. There was no part of theoretical or practical music in which he was not thoroughly versed: He possessed a strength of hand on the violin, and a genius for composition, with which few professors are gifted.

Charles Frederic Abel was an admirable musician: Abel. His performance on the viol da gamba was in every particular complete and perfect. He had a hand which no difficulties could embarrass; a taste the most refined and delicate; a judgment so correct and certain as never to permit a single note to escape him without meaning. His compositions were easy and elegantly simple. In writing and playing an adagio he was superior to all praise; the most pleasing yet learned modulation, the richest harmony, the most elegant and polished melody, were all expressed with the most exquisite feeling, taste, and science. His manner of playing... playing an adagio soon became the model of imitation for all our young performers on bowed instruments. Bartholomew Cervetto, Cramer, and Crofild, were in this respect to be ranked as of his school. All lovers of music must have lamented that Abel in youth had not attached himself to an instrument more worthy of his genius, taste, and learning, than the viol da gamba, that remnant of the old chief of viols which during the 17th century was a necessary appendage of a nobleman's or gentleman's family throughout Europe, previous to the admission of violins, tenors, and basses, in private houses or public concerts. Since the death of the late elector of Bavaria, (who was next to Abel the best performer on the viol da gamba in Europe), the instrument seems quite laid aside. It was used longer in Germany than elsewhere; but the place of gambist seems now as much suppreseed in the chapels of German princes as that of lutanist. The celebrated performer on the violin, Lolle, came to England in 1785. Such was his caprice, that he was seldom heard; and so eccentric was his style and composition, that by many he was regarded as a madman. He was, however, during his lucid intervals a very great and expressive performer in the serious style.

Mrs Billington, after distinguishing herself in childhood as a neat and expressive performer on the piano-forte, appeared at once in 1786 as a sweet and captivating singer. In emulation of Mara and other great bravura singers, she at first too frequently attempted passages of difficulty; afterward, however, so greatly was the improved, that no song seemed too high or too rapid for her execution. Now, at the distance of 20 years, she retains her high reputation. The natural tone of her voice is so exquisitely sweet, her knowledge of music so considerable, her shake so true, her clothes and embellishments so various, her expressions so grateful, that envy only or apathy could hear her without delight.

The present composers, and performers of the first class, are so well known to the lovers of the art, that it would be needless and improper to mention them particularly.

The Catch-club at the Thatched House, instituted in 1762 by the earl of Eglington, the duke of Queensberry, and others; and the concert of ancient music, suggested by the earl of Sandwich in 1776, have had a beneficial effect in improving the art.

Two female performers have lately appeared of distinguished eminence.

Madame Graffini had exhibited her vocal powers in Paris with extraordinary applause, and arrived in London in 1805, where she excited uncommon admiration. She appeared in Zaira, where the display of her powers not only pleased, but she astonished, when it was considered that the compass of her voice did not exceed eight or ten notes.

The year following Madame Catalani divided the public attention with Graffini.—This eminent performer is a native of Sinigaglia in Italy, where her father was a singer of the comic order.

She was educated in a convent. The virtuous impressions she there received, have continued ever since invariably to influence her conduct.

Her father soon discovered the excellence and the value of her vocal powers, which were first exhibited on the provincial theatres of Italy.—He soon carried her to Spain, where she attained very high celebrity. It was there her husband, M. de Valabregue, first paid his addresses to her; and it was not till after a perseverance of seven months that he at last obtained her consent to unite her fortunes with his. Her hesitation proceeded from the reluctance of her father, at once to be deprived of his daughter, and of the very great emoluments which she brought him. M. de Valabregue had been an officer in the French army under General Moreau.

From Spain Madame Catalani (for she has retained her father's name), proceeded to Portugal, where she accepted an engagement to come to London. She travelled through France, and at Paris appeared at an occasional concert, where her fame was so great, that the usual price of admission was trebled. She particularly attracted the attention of the singular man who now holds the imperial sceptre of the continent of Europe. He ordered her a pension (its value is about 30l. per annum); and it was with much difficulty, and only through the interference of the British ambassador (the earl of Lauderdale) then at Paris, that she was permitted to leave that capital, and proceed on her journey.

In the dramatic music of the opera, this singer is far superior to any performer ever heard in this country. Her merit in Semiramis, in particular, presents almost the idea of perfection. Her voice is equal to the most difficult execution, while her countenance is interesting, her gestures graceful, and her person elegant. It has been reported that she does not sing in tune; but it is an undeniable fact, vouched by the first musicians, that she possesses a most accurate ear. Every vocal performer occasionally emits a false sound in consequence of some temporary organic cause.

Catalani's easy and clear articulation are particularly striking; her tones are full and liquid. Her cadences are appropriate and masterly. She has a practice of rapidly descending in half notes, which has excited admiration chiefly by its entire novelty. The clearness and rapidity displayed by her in chromatic passages excite astonishment; and she combines mellowness with distinctness, a high qualification, which Mara first taught us to appreciate. In the course of summer 1807, Madame Catalani visited the provincial theatres of England, and appeared likewise in Dublin, Edinburgh, and Glasgow. Her total receipts for that year are said to have exceeded 15,000l.

We have been somewhat particular in our account of musical affairs in our own country during the 18th century, as what would be most interesting to general readers, and of which a well-informed gentleman would not wish to be ignorant. The professor and connoisseur will have recourse to disquisitions much more minute than those of which our limits can be supposed to admit. ELEMENTS OF MUSIC,

Theoretical and Practical (c).

PRELIMINARY DISCOURSE.

MUSIC may be considered, either as an art, which has for its object one of the greatest pleasures of which our senses (D) are susceptible; or as a science, by which that art is reduced to principles. This is the double view in which we mean to treat of music in this work.

It has been the case with music as with all the other arts invented by man: some facts were at first discovered by accident; soon afterwards reflection and observation investigated others; and from these facts, properly disposed and united, philosophers were not slow in forming a body of science, which afterwards increased by degrees.

The first theories of music were perhaps as ancient as the earliest age which we know to have been distinguished by philosophy, even as the age of Pythagoras; nor does history leave us any room to doubt, that from the period when that philosopher taught, the ancients cultivated music, both as an art and as a science, with great affluence. But there remains to us much uncertainty concerning the degree of perfection to which they brought it. Almost every question which has been proposed with respect to the music of the ancients has divided the learned; and probably may still continue to divide them, for want of monuments sufficient in their number, and incontestable in their nature, from whence we might be enabled to exhibit testimonies and discoveries instead of suppositions and conjectures. In the preceding history we have stated a few facts respecting the nature of ancient music, and the inventors of the several musical instruments; but it were to be wished, that, in order to elucidate, as much as possible, a point so momentous in the history of the sciences, some person of learning, equally skilled in the Greek language and in music, should exert himself to unite, and the difficulties in the same work the most probable opinions of ancient music, established or propounded by the learned, upon a subject so difficult and curious. This philosophical history of ancient music is a work which might highly embellish the literature of our times.

In the mean time, till an author can be found sufficiently instructed in the arts and in history to undertake such a labour with success, we shall content ourselves with considering the present state of music, and limit our endeavours to the explication of those acquisitions which have accrued to the theory of music in these latter times.

There are two departments in music, melody * and harmony +. Melody is the art of arranging several sounds in succession one to another in a manner agreeable to the ear; harmony is the art of pleasing that organ by the union of several sounds which are heard at once and the same time. Melody has been known and felt through all ages; perhaps the same cannot be affirmed of harmony (E); we know not whether the ancients made any use of it or not, nor at what period it began to be practised.

Not but that the ancients certainly employed in their music

(c) To deliver the elementary principles of music, theoretical and practical, in a manner which may prove at once entertaining and instructive, without protracting this article much beyond the limits prescribed in our plan, appears to us no easy task. We therefore hesitated for some time whether to try our own strength, or to follow some eminent author on the same subject. Of these the last seemed preferable. Amongst these authors, none appeared to us to have written anything to fit for our purpose as M. d'Alembert, whose treatise on music is the most methodical, perspicuous, concise, and elegant dissertation on that subject with which we are acquainted. As it was unknown to most English readers before a former edition of this work, it ought to have all the merit of an original. We have given a translation of it; and in the notes, we have added, from the works of succeeding authors, and from our own observations, such explanations as appeared necessary, to adapt the work to the present day.

(d) In this passage, and in the definitions of melody and harmony, our author seems to have adopted the vulgar error, that the pleasures of music terminate in corporeal sense. He would have pronounced it absurd to affect the same thing of painting. Yet if the former be no more than a mere pleasure of corporeal sense, the latter must likewise be ranked in the same predicament. We acknowledge that corporeal sense is the vehicle of sound; but it is plain from our immediate feelings, that the results of sound arranged according to the principles of melody, or combined and disposed according to the laws of harmony, are the objects of a reflex or internal sense.

For a more satisfactory discussion of this matter, the reader may consult that elegant and judicious treatise on Musical Expression by Mr Avison. In the mean time it may be necessary to add, that, in order to shun the appearance of affectation, we shall use the ordinary terms by which musical sensations, or the mediums by which they are conveyed, are generally denominated.

(e) Though no certainty can be obtained what the ancients understood of harmony, nor in what manner and in what period they practised it; yet it is not without probability, that, both in speculation and practice, they were in possession of what we denominate counterpoint. Without supposing this, there are some passages in the Greek authors which can admit of no satisfactory interpretation. See the Origin and Progress of Language, vol. ii. Besides, Preliminary music those chords which were most perfect and simple; such as the octave, the fifth, and the third; but it seems doubtful whether they knew any of the other consonances or not, or even whether in practice they could deduce the same advantages from the simple chords which were known to them, that have afterwards accrued from experience and combinations.

If that harmony which we now practise owes its origin to the experience and reflection of the moderns, there is the highest probability that the first essays of this art, as of all the others, were feeble, and the progress of its efforts almost imperceptible; and that, in the course of time, improving by small gradations, the successive labours of several geniuses have elevated it to that degree of perfection in which at present we find it.

The first inventor of harmony escapes our investigation, from the same causes which leave us ignorant of those who first invented each particular science; because the original inventors could only advance one step, a succeeding discoverer afterwards made a more sensible improvement, and the first imperfect essays in every kind were lost in the more extensive and striking views to which they led. Thus the arts which we now enjoy, are for the most part far from being due to any particular man, or to any nation exclusively: they are produced by the united and successive endeavours of mankind; they are the results of such continued and united reflections, as have been formed by all men at all periods and in all nations.

It might, however, be wished, that after having ascertained, with as much accuracy as possible, the state of ancient music by the small number of Greek authors which remain to us, the same application were immediately directed to investigate the first incontrovertible traces of harmony which appear in the succeeding ages, and to pursue those traces from period to period. The products of these researches would doubtless be very imperfect, because the books and monuments of the middle ages are by far too few to enlighten that gloomy and barbarous era; yet these discoveries would still be precious to a philosopher, who delights to observe the human mind in the gradual evolution of its powers, and the progress of its attainments.

The first compositions upon the laws of harmony which we know, are of no higher antiquity than two ages prior to our own; and they were followed by many others. But none of these essays was capable of satisfying the mind concerning the principles of harmony: they confined themselves almost entirely to the single occupation of collecting rules, without endeavouring to account for them; neither had their analogies one with another, nor their common source, been perceived; a blind and unenlightened experience was the only compass by which the artist could direct and regulate his course.

Besides, we can discover some vestiges of harmony, however rude and imperfect, in the history of the Gothic ages, and amongst the most barbarous people. This they could not have derived from more cultivated countries, because it appears to be incorporated with their national music. The most rational account, therefore, which can be given, seems to be, that it was conveyed in a mechanical or traditional manner through the Roman provinces from a more remote period of antiquity.

(f) See M. Rameau's letter upon this subject, Merc. de Mai, 1752. Elements