Page images
PDF
EPUB

pursue any farther. The Knights, on their return home, promise Queen Hilde to revenge the death of the King, and to deliver her daughter from the ravishers, as soon as the loss of men sustained in the last battle can be supplied by the growing up of the youth. 19. Meantime the enemy arrive with their booty in their own country. Nothing can induce Chautrum to break her faith to Herwig, and give her hand to Hartmuth, who himself disapproves of the harshness of his parents to Chautrun. 20. Gerlinde, Hartmuth's mother, condemns Chautrum to the mean service of washing the clothes of the knights on the sea shore. 21. After a lapse of thirteen years, the Hegelingians arm to execute the revenge which they had sworn. A large army, under the command of Horant, sails to Normandy. 22. Ortwein and Herwig, the brother and bridegroom of Chautrum, re

solve to go on shore as spies. 23. Chautrum learns by a vision that her deliverance is at hand. 24. Chautrum, and her friend Hildeburg, speak on the set-shore to the strangers, without being known, till at length Herwig, having shewn them his bridal ring, recognises his affianced bride by hers. The two knights return to their army, which is still concealed. Chautrum, animated by noble pride, throws all the clothes into the sea. For this Gerlinde orders that she shall be punished with rods. But, confiding in the certainty of her deliverance, and to escape the painful punishment, she promises to give her hand to Hartmuth. 25. Early in the morning the army is put in motion, in profound silence. King Ludwig perceives the standards in the twilight, 26. and Hartmuth names to his father the Princes, whose standards he recognises; he arms himself with all speed. Battle. 27. Herwig kills Ludwig; Hartmuth is separated from the rest of his army. An assassin, hired by Gerlinde, has already lifted his sword against Chartrum, when Hartmuth, who is combating with Wate, hears her voice, and saves her by calling in a threatening voice to the murderer. For this, Herwig, at Chautrum's request, saves the life of his rival in his combat with Wate. 28. Wate takes the castle, and sits in judgment on the guilty. Gerlinde, and Heregart, one the women who had been carried off, and had united herself with Hartmuth's cupbearer, are executed. Horant of Tenneland remains with Chautrum and the prisoners, in the conquered castle; while Wate subdues all the fortresses in the country, and plants every where Hilde's standard. The Hegelingians return home: only Horant remains behind, as governor of the country. 29. Hilde receives her people, on their return. Hartmuth obtains his liberty at the request of Chautrun, and of his sister Ortun, on his promise not to escape. A fourfold marriage, of Ortwein with Ortun, Herwig with Chautrum, Hartmuth with Hildeburg, and Seyfried with Herwig's sister, is resolved upon, 30. and solemnized in the most splendid manner. Hartmuth returns with his consort, Hildeburg, to his own country, which Horant gives up to him

of

again. At the conclusion, Ortwein and Herwig vow to each other eternal friendship.

M. Primisser, keeper of the Imperial Cabinet of Medals and Antiquities, and also of the "Ambras Collection," believes this Poem to have been unknown till the discovery of this MS. in the collection under his care, not being able to discover any mention of it. He intended to publish it, but we are not informed whether he has yet done so, nor whether any other MS. of the Poem has since been found.

ORIGINAL CORRESPONDENCE.

THE CHRONICLE OF EUSEBIUS.
Editio Princeps of Milan.

As the Literary Gazette was the first Journal in this country which gave information respecting this important work, we have peculiar pleasure in adding the following account.

The persons who are charged with the Milanese edition of the celebrated Chronicle of Eusebius of Cesarea, partly inedited, had resolved to publish simultaneously the two books of which it is composed. For this reason alone, instead of distributing separately the first book, which has been printed several months, they preferred hastening the printing of the second; and though this part of the work presents much more serious difficulties, it would have been finished now if the health of the Editors had not several times obliged them to relax in their labours.

Meantime the remonstrances of the subscribers have become numerous, and it has been determined to send forth the first book by itself, which is also the inedited and most important part of the work. The second part, which will soon follow the first, will contain, besides the second book of the work, the preliminary discourse of the Editors, an index, which is very necessary in a Chronology, a table of errata, and other matters relative to the work.

The first (inedited) book, which is now to be distributed, is only a succinct and chronological ancient history, compiled by Eusebius, with extracts from numerous works, of which we have but a very few left. After an introduction, the author gives the Chaldæan history, taken principally from Berosus, Apollodorus, and Abidenus, writers who are quoted by Alexander Polyistor. We find next what Diodorus, Castor, and Cephalion, had related of the Assyrians. The treatise on the origin and vicissitudes of the Jewish people from Adam to the Advent of Our Saviour, is classical and diffuse. Eusebius then gives us, after the testimony of Manetho, the series of the ancient dynasties of Egypt to Alexander the Great; that of his successors in Egypt, down to Cleopatra and Augustus, follows a very careful narrative of the historian and philosopher Porphyry. From the Oriental history we proceed to

that of the Greeks, beginning with that of the Sicyonians, Argives, and Athenians, taken from Castor, and accompanied by catalogues of their Kings, and of their Archons. We next find the little book of the Olympiads, down to the 249th, taken from Cassius, Longinus and Flegontes. Then follows the history of the Corinthians, the Lacedemonians, and other people, who obtained the dominion of the sea, which the author has drawn from Diodorus. We then find the history of the Macedonian monarchy, before and after Alexander, borrowed from Porphyry. To the same historian belongs all that we are told of the Asiatic and Syriac dynasty: but the narrative of the events concerning Thessaly precedes; it is an historical piece, which Scaliger, to his great regret, considered to be absolutely lost. Lastly, we find the history of the first Romans, compiled from the works of Dyonisius Halicarnassus, Diodorus, and Castor.

In this Editio Princeps is the Latin translation of the Armenian text, from which the work is taken; at the bottom of the pages are placed the copious Greek fragments of Eusebius, which the Editors have collected in several ancient authors. They have also added philological, critical, and explanatory notes; however they have thought it proper not to exceed certain limits, and the first book, notwithstanding the abundance of its contents, is only 220 pages.

LEARNED SOCIETIES.

OXFORD, JANUARY 9.

Congregations will be holden for the purpose of granting Graces and conferring Degrees, on the following days in the ensuing Term; viz.-Thursday, Jan. 14, Thureday 28; Thursday, Feb. 11, Saturday 20; Thursday, March 11, Thursday 18; Saturday, April 3.

Mr. J. S. and Mr. P. B. Duncan, Fellows of New College, have lately presented to the Anatomical Theatre, in this University, some very beautiful wax models, formed with so much accuracy as even to supersede the necessity of having recourse to the human body for anatomical instruction and experiment. They were purchased in Florence by these Gentlemen. No. 1. Is a full-grown Human Female, in which are represented the following points; namely, the whole of the Absorbent System; the Viscera of the Thorax, of the Abdomen, and of the Pelvis, together with the Arteries and Veins belonging to them; the Brain and its Membranes; and numerous Muscles of the Head and of other parts of the Body. No. 2. Two Models representing Sections of the Human Head, together with six smaller models-the whole completely illustrating the Anatomy of the Eye, with its Nerves and Blood-vessels. Nos. 3 and 4. Two models representing with minute accuracy, not only the external form and character, but also the whole of the interior anatomy of the male and female Cray-fish.

ARTS AND SCIENCES.

SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANIES.

METEORIC IRON IN NORTH AMERICA.

The northern Esquimaux lately visited by Captain Ross, were observed (as we have had occasion previously to state) to employ a variety of implements of iron, and upon inquiry being made concerning its source by Captain Sabine, he ascertained that it was procured from the mountains about 30 miles from the coast. The natives described the existence of two large masses containing it. The one was represented as nearly pure iron, and they had been unable to do more than detach small fragments of it. The other, they said, was a stone, of which they could break fragments, which contained dallglobules of iron, and which they hammered ont between two stones, and thus brmed them into flat pieces, about the of half a sixpence, and which, let into a tate handle, side by side, form the edges of their knives. It immediately occurred to Captain Sabine that this might be metearic iron, but the subject was not further attended to till specimens of the knives hed Sir Joseph Banks, by whose desire Mr. Brande examined the iron, and found ait more than three per cent of Nickel. This, with the uncommon appearance of the metal, which was perfectly free from rust, and had the peculiar silvery whiteness of meteoric iron, puts the source of the pecimens alluded to out of all doubt. The que mass is probably entirely iron, and too hard and intractable for their management; the other appears to be a meteoric stone, staining pieces of iron, which they sucreed in removing, and extending upon a

slese anvil.

Some experiments upon the power of an er of iron with nickel to resist rust, and on its fitness for delicate cutting instrumeats, are now in progress.

TEMPERATURE BELOW THE EARTH'S SURPACE. There are some curious observa1438 made by Mr. Lean, inserted in the Pailosophical Magazine, upon the increase of temperature in descending into the earth, and they show this increase to go on to the repth of 200 fathoms, the lowest situation which the temperature was taken; for stance, observed in December 1815, at the surface, and at successive depths, inasing by 20 fathoms, the temperatures were as follows: 50°, 57°, 61°, 63°,5, 64°, 1,700, 720, 70°, 74°, 78°. -The temperaare taken in the air in summer and winter a few degrees, even to the lowest Cepths, but always increased on descendIt was probably also affected by the ramen, &c. but by immersing the thermometer into streams of water issuing from The sides of the shafts and galleries, it was wn that an effect was produced indeendent of that cause. The water at mobrate depths was cooler than the air, but at wer situations became as warın; at 100, was 64°, air 66°; at 120, 68°, air 70-at 140, 72, air 720-at 200, 78°, air 78° also.

CHANGE OF THE COLOUR OF THE SKIN.

unassuming and distinguished individual A very particular account of this pheno- from whose pencil it came. It is a pleasure menon has been published by Dr. Emery to us to add, that it has surpassed rather Bissel, of Clinton, New York, in the Trans- than disappointed our hopes and expectaactions of the Medico-Physical Society. It tions. occurred in a man of the Brotherton tribe of Indians, who is now ninety years of age, and has gradually been becoming white for the last thirty years. The first appearance of this change was soon after an attack of acute rheumatism, in a small white patch near the pit of the stomach, and shortly after other spots appeared of the same colour, and gradually increased in size. He was at first alarmed, and endeavoured to remove them by remedies, but produced no effect, and soon desisted, and the change has continued going on irregularly ever since, the original colour remaining only on the forehead, and fore part of the face and neck, with a few small patches on the arm. The skin which has become white, is of a fine clear tint, and has nothing of a dull earthy appearance, nor of the livid hue observed in Albinos. It is more delicate to sensations of heat and cold than before, and likewise very tender, for the parts bleed much when cut or lacerated, and heal with difficulty; the perspiration is rather less than in the other parts. The man affirms he has never suffered under any cutaneous disease, except the itch, and that but twice, and also that he was a very dark Indian.

MOIREE METALLIQUE. - The Marquis Ridolfi has suggested a modification of this ornamental material, which consists in sketching flowers, figures, or other designs, upon the tin plates, with pale or coloured varnishes, before they are dipped in the acid bath. The figures are, of course, left with the original appearance of the tin, and may be brought out in great perfection; they may be made by laying on leaf gold or silver, the latter metals with the varnish defending the surface of the tin covered with them from the acid.

THE FINE ARTS.

or

SIR JOHN LEICESTER'S GALLERY.
We have before mentioned that Mr. Hil.
ton was employed to paint a picture for Sir
John Leicester, which would appear in that
gentleman's Gallery of Native Artists, the
opening of which might be expected during
the ensuing (as last) season. We have since
had an opportunity of seeing this work,
and have seen what greatly delighted us.
Our readers know that we love the fine arts
for their own sake, that we most cordially
approved of Sir John Leicester's plan,
our utmost wish is to cherish our native
artists, and that we have frequently ex-
pressed a high opinion of Mr. Hilton's ge-
nius. Here then are four grounds on which
it can naturally be supposed we were in-
terested in this picture: we desired that it
might be excellent, for the sake of the Arts
generally, for the ornament of the room in
which it is placed, for the credit of the
British School, and for the honour of the

wied

plan, that

The subject is the Rape of Europa, who is represented on the back of the Bull; in the midst of waters, surrounded by seanymphs, satyrs, and other mythological beings; and looking with too late alarm at her removal from the paternal abodes of Agenor. The canvas is (we speak by guess from the view) six or seven feet in length, by five or six in breadth, and the whole is filled with the action, except a small portion of Landscape on the left of the spectator, executed in a grand manner. The composition and grouping seem to us to be admirable, and the colouring is truly that of Titian. Yet it is not touched into miniature perfection: the masses are bold, broad, and glowing. With all the charms of the Venetian School, there is not one of the puerilities or instances of bad taste which so often disfigure even the noblest efforts of the ancient masters. This quality, en passant, is a grand thing gained by modern art, and the general light of the age and of science has redeemed this exquisite branch of refinement from the risk of repeating such grossnesses and littlenesses as we so often see where we most lament their appearance. But what strikes us most forcibly as the chief merit of Mr. Hilton's performance, is the motion which he has almost absolutely communicated to his figures. They all look as if they would speedily vanish from our sight, through the side of the frame. Nothing can surpass this-it is the doing of genuine feeling and supreme talent. With regard to minor beauties, we might state that the flesh of Europa is in an exquisite tone, the animal elevated and characteristic, the management of the light and shadow clever without being mean or artificial, and the inferior actors a combination of as many various, graceful, and poetical forms, as have been often witnessed in a single picture.

Upon the whole, though we bestow so warm a panegyric upon this production, we are assured that no amateur who sees it will think we have exceeded the bounds of justice. It is, in truth, one of the very ablest works of our day, and we have much pleasure in describing so transcendent a proof of talent by a young British Artist.

MR. LUKE CLENNELL.

This unfortunate Artist, a native of Morpeth, in Northumberland, and known to the world as an eminent Engraver on Wood, as well as a Painter of no ordinary talent, has furnished one of those cases of human distress and misery, which calls for the sympathy and the aid of every friend to forlorn genius. In the midst of a prosperous career, with fortune "both hands full" smiling on every side, -munificently treated by the British-Institution, employed on an important work by the Earl of Bridgewater (a picture of the Fete given by the City of London to the Allied Sovereigns,) and with

no prospect but that delightful one of fame | Kisses and looks voluptuons; and they quaffed
and independence, earned by his own ex-
ertions, the most dreadful affliction of life
befel him, and insanity rioted where taste
and judgment so conspicuously shone!
The shorter we make the tale of woe. the

At mid day iced waters which had grown
Cool in the valley of Roenabad: -But one thing
Did intervene to mar those quiet hours :-
That was ambition.

more impressive it must be. The wretched
Artist has been two years separated from
his family, his young wife, the mother of
his three infants, has descended into her
grave, a broken-hearted victim, - these
worse than orphans are destitute: -and it
is proposed to publish by subscription, to
provide for them, a plate from their un-
happy father's picture of the Charge of the
Life Guards at Waterloo, which, in 1816,
was rewarded with a premium by the Bri-
tish Institution.

Were the print a allad-top we should not need to recommend it, as we do spontaneously; but even as a work of art, it would merit encouragement, unsupported by the melancholy circumstances of our statement, which appeal so irresistibly to every feeling bosom.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

[Literary Gazette.]

AN ARABIAN SONG.

Suggested by ANTAR's exquisite Song quoted in
the Literary Gazette of last Saturday.

I love thee, Ibla! -Thou art bright
As the white snow on the hills afar;
Thy face is sweet as the moon by night,
And thine eye like the clear and rolling star.

But the snow is poor, and withers soon,
While thou art firm and rich-in hope;
And never (like thine) from the face of the moon
Flamed the dark eye of the Antelope.

Fine is thy shape as the Erak's bough,
And thy bosom a heaven-or, haplier, meant
(If man may guess who crawls below)
By Heaven for Earth's enchantment.

But the bough of the Erak in winter dies,
And the heaven hath clouds that dim its blue;
Thy shape is as fine when the summer flies,
And thy bosom is warm and cloudless too.

Thy hair is black as the starless sky,

And clasps thy neck as it lov'd its home;
Yet it moves at the sound of thy faintest sigh,
Like the snake that lies on the white sea-foam.

Farewell! farewell!-yet of thee, sweet maid,
I'll sing-in the wild woods far away;
And I'll bear thy name on my shining blade,
Flow'r of my own Arabia !

And when I return, with a Chieftain's name,
And many a plunder'd gem for thee,
I'll ask thee, then, to share my faime
For all love's sweet eternity.

[AMICUS.]

A RECOLLECTION OF THE VISIT OF VATHEK
TO THE HALL OF EBLIS.

They took their way (Vathek and his young
bride,

The sweet Nouronikar) through summer fields
Of flowers-by sparkling rivers-fountains that
Splashed o'er the turf-by palm and tamarisk

But these days passed by:
And then they journey'd amongst perilous sands,
Which the hot blast o' the desert swept at times
To figures columnar; these subsiding, left
Open to view the wide horizon, where
Lifting their heads, like mountains, to the skies,
'Rose the dark towers of Istakar. The moon
Hid her pale face eclipsed, and sore afraid
Lest that the baleful atmosphere might shroud
Her light for ever; and interlunar stars
Shrank and grew dim, as when the morning
shews
His grey eye in the East. - Forward they passed
'Midst crumbling walls, and shaking minarets,
Where even the ivy grew not, and at last
Stood 'neath the mighty palace of those Kings
Who ruled before the flood: It seemed as bailt
For all eternity; and its pillars threw
On the black platform, long, large lines of
shadow,

That lay upon the marble, like to things
Substantial -

towers

Countless and sky-touching

("Whose architecture was unknown amidst
The records of the earth") stood there, like that
Vast pile our ancestry once dared to raise
In old Chaldea; whence they met the wrath
Of God, and Nature's own sweet language fled
The lips of men for ever.-Silence reigned;
And glimmering darkness in the middle air
Brooded, but shifting aye her shadowy wings,
Let Horror creep between, and doubtful light:
And chill, sepulchral airs, that had no sound,
Touched the pale cheek of young Nouronihar:
And Vathek felt his heart grow cold, and stayed
His breath to listen, and he grasped hard
Her trembling hand for mere companionship.

The stars now shone anew; and right against
The palace, carved curiously, were seen
Leopards and winged hyppogriffs, and shapes
Unknown but to the bottoms of the deep,
And there, by all sea-monsters that we fear,
Dreaded, and left alone: above these forms
Were traced mysterious characters, that did yield
A welcome to the pair: scarce had they read
When from amongst the ruins came a sound
Like anguish, and the yawning ground gave out
Blue subterranean fires, that shewed a door
Whose barred passages led to HELL.-There

stood

Towards the stupendous capitals (which seemed
Wrought in the finer times of Greece, when men
Struck armed Pallas from a senseless stone
To life, and shaped those matchless deities,
Venus, and stern Apollo, and the rest)
Strange letters might be seen their import
known
To none but the immortals. The sad pair

Traversed a scene of luxury and woe;
They trod on gold and flowers, while from the
ground

Voluptuous odours steamed, whose breath was

sweet

As hers whom story fabled once the queen
Of beauty: there saffron, and citron boughs,
Cedar, and sweet perfuming sandal woods
Were burning; and distilled and fragrant waters
Sparkled in crystal.
But around them

stalked

Figures like men-all silent-with despair
On every face, and each did press his hand
Against his heart, and shunn'd his fellow wretch.

Upon a globe of fire sate Eblis: He
Was prince of all the spirits that rebelled
'Gainst God and met perdition. He was young
Still; and, but that some pride burned in his eye,
You might have pitied him: His flowing hair,
Streaming like sunbeams, told he must have been
An angel once, and fair, and beautiful;
Nay, in his fallen station, he retained
A relic of his old nobility,
And tho' he fell, you would have said he fell
For airing at a world. "Creatures," he said,
"Creatures of clay! I number ye amongst
My subjects and adorers: Live ye here
For ever, and for ever." Then his orb,
Receding from the presence of the damned,
Shrunk to a point of light, and as it shrunk
The hearts of his believers wither'd, and burn'd
Internally (as he had left behind

A portion of his fire)-and on their souls
Came darkness and dismay: and all knew then
The unconsuming flame was come; and each
Hated himself and fellow:-Thus they lived
For ages and for ages, a sad prey
To fires perpetual and endless fear-
Sorrow altho' they lov'd not-hot desires,
That never could be quelled-hunger and thirst-
Fierce jealousy and groundless doubt-and

hate

[blocks in formation]

The dwarfed Indian, grinning like a fiend:
"Welcome!" he cried, " both welcome! ye given in the singular tale called "The Caliph

are come

To see the Prince of morning: ye deserve
To see, and ye shall see him." Then he touched
The charmed lock, 'round which, invisibly,
A hundred watchful demons wheel, and keep
Sacred the homes of starry Eblis.-Hark!
It opened with a horrid sound, and shut
(When Vathek and his bride had entered there)
'Midst laughs, and shrieks exulting, like the noise
Of mountainous thunder, or the withering voice
Of him who from Vesuvius calls abroad
In madness, and casts out his blazing foam
(Like rivers) toward the sea.-

At last they saw
The HALL OF EBLIS: vaulted 'twas, and high,
So none might mark the roof: the pillars that
Stood like supporting giants, 'verged away
In long, innumerable avenues, but
Met at a point bright as the sun, when he
Looks flaming on the sands of Palestine:
Each column bore a different character,
And by the lambent flames that played about
Like snakes, and pointed their ethereal spires

Vathek."

[By Correspondents.]
TO ITALY.
(From the Italian.)

O, wretched Italy! on whom blind fate
Beauty, a cruel present, did bestow;

From whence thou feel'st, thro' all thy hapless

state,

The bitter portion of eternal woe.

Hadst thou a face less fair, or bolder heart,
That those who seem thy beauty to adore,
Yet with relentless fury seek thy death,
Might either love thee less, or fear thee more!

I should not now behold the hostile band
Rush from the Alps, like some o'erwhelming

flood,

Nor Gallic hordes o'erspread thy conquer'd land
And drink Po's streams, still purple with thy

trees

And where the dark pines talked to solitudes;
And oft beguiled the way with amorous songs,

blood.

[blocks in formation]

Thy kiss is sweet, but cannot call
Departed feelings from the dead;
Thy smiles are ardent, but they fall
Upon a heart so wahered,

That all the quickening beams of love
Must shed persuasive warmth in vain;
And tears as unavailing prove,

To rear one shoot of hope again.

Yes,-doubt me not, -I loved thee well,
But never thought too well till now;
A gloom that thou canst not dispel,
A coldness thou canst not subdue,
Comes o'er my bosom's genial flow,
Fanning it with its hated wings;-
Ob, purest feelings, frozen, grow
Hard as the ice of clearest springs.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

Within an interval of two months, music and the Academy have lost two of the most ebrated composers who have illustrated France and Italy, namely, Paesiello and Meowizny. What a singular contrast between these two great masters, whether we ssler them with reference to their priVate or professional lives! Paesiello, concerning whom I last year addressed the Indrate, & fostered in the bosom of the great 300l of Italy, inundated Europe with his merable productions, occupied for the are of fifty years all the voices of fame, eppeared, even after death, to pursue at glory, of which during his life he had insatiable. Monsigny, a stranger to vols, his own instructor rather than the paal of the few masters destitute of talent A reputation under whom he studied, cated a genius which he would fain have extivated for himself alone; and became, were, in spite of his inclination, celewed in the musical world, without ever ting Paris, where he shone only for a years, like those meteors which blaze moment to disappear for ever.

ast we attribute this striking diversity the mere accidental dispositions of the *derstanding and the temper? May we account for the peculiar conduct and

flourished?-for music was at that time |
but little studied in France, and was re-
garded in a very trivial light by the gene-
rality of people A man of respectable cir-
cumstances would scarcely have dreamt of
making music his profession. It was cus-
tomary even for those who professed the art,
to style themselves amateurs; and M. de
Monsigny, who had sprung from a good
family, could not appear in the world as a
musician under any other title.

He was born in 1729, at Fauquemberg,
in Artois. His family, which was of Sardi-
nian origin, settled about the year 1500 in
the Netherlands, where, for a length of
time, they were owners of considerable
estates. However, at the birth of Peter
Alexander de Monsigny, the means of his
parents, either through neglect of economy
or some other cause, were considerably
reduced. But this evil is not always
serious to children, if enough remains to
provide for their education, and to enable
them to do something for themselves when
fortune has done nothing for them.

Young Monsigny was sent to the Jesuits' College at St. Omer, where his natural passion for music soon became manifest. A college education does not, as is generally supposed, confine the mind of the student within a single and uniform circle of instruction. Certainly a common education cannot be perfectly in relation with the different dispositions suited to every state of society; but at all events, it serves to keep the mind awake, to open it to the various impressions which may present themselves, and it is rare indeed that it does not seize that which is best suited to its powers.

This was the case with young Monsigny when he quitted his studies. The carillon, or Chimes of St. Bertin's Abbey, first served to develop the genius which he had

received from nature; and the Carillonneur,

a man of

more

talent than his profession

required, was his first master. But recrea

tion was the sole object of his musical pur-
suits; they were always subordinate to

other occupations.
At the age of eighteen he lost his father,
and he was thus left to be the guardian of
his younger brothers, and the support of a
mother and sister, whose whole means of
subsistence depended on him. It was a
duty which his father on his death-bed be-
queathed to him, and which he most reli-
giously fulfilled.

The loss of his father, joined to the low
state of his fortune, induced him to re-
nounce the career of arms which his ances-
tors had pursued, and in which he had been
destined to succeed them.

In the army, a young man is more likely to ruin than to enrich himself; and though

of Monsigny's talent by the we of his genius and his educa-glory may lead to fortune, yet that glory -his situation in the world, and cannot be speedily acquired. More prompt state of public opinion at the time he Ser account of the proceedings of the Instion the day on which this notice was read,

mury Gazette, 31st of October last.

*See Literary Gazette, Jan. 24th and 31st,

resources were requisite to enable M. de
Monsigny to provide for his family. In
1749, he proceeded to Paris, where he de-
termined to betake himself to banking and
financial speculations. In that profession
success is more prompt and certain, and it

rarely happens that those who enter upon it do not get rich, especially at a time when the State is getting poor; and such was the case at the period alluded to. Thus finance was regarded in a very important light; and by its places and numerous ramifications was the means of restoring many decayed families.

M. de Monsigny soon met with lucrative employment, of a nature no way dishonourable or incompatible with delicacy. Agreeble in his person, as well as by his talent, he was received in the most flattering way into the best society. He gained many friends, who took a warm interest in his welfare. One of his brothers entered the army, where he died a Knight of St. Louis; the rest procured appointments in the Colonies, and a suitable provision was made for his mother and sister.

Whilst he was thus promoting the welfare of his relations, he did not neglect his own advancement, that is to say, his progress in music, his natural passion for which daily increased. He made choice of an excellent violin master; and Gianotti, a counter-violin player of the Opera, gave him lessons in composition, which finished the work begun by Nature. It is evident

that he brought to Paris, not only the taste but the genius for music, for he was ena bled to appreciate the low state to which the art was still reduced at the theatres, in spite of all the efforts made by Duni and Philidor to improve it. The Opera Comique was then in its infancy, and the obstacles which the customs of the age opposed to that style of composition must still be in ecollection; it was the constant object of the derision of Voltaire, which indeed it richly merited in a dramatic point of view. Nothing can be more insipid, both to the understanding and the taste, than those sketchy pieces, when the music does not finish off the traits, fill up the void, and complete the whole. Such, however, was the state of the grand Opera, notwithstanding all the science of Rameau. We are assured that when Monsigny heard Rameau's music for the first time, he was struck with astonishment; but his astonishment was of a different kind from that which La Bruyére had experienced in the preceding century, on hearing the Operas of Lully. The music, according to Monsigny, expressed nothing but tedium. I should like, said he to his friends, to try another style.

notw

In 1752, an Italian, company performed at Paris some of the compositions of Pergoleze, Jomelli, &c. This was, in fact, the first lesson in melody received by ears hitherto almost insensible to its charms. Monsigny did not need instruction, but the example proved serviceable to his plan of establishing a new style of dramatic music. His financial avocations occupied but little of his time, still less of his attention, a.d afforded him ample leisure for pursuing those studies which were most congenial to his taste. He secretly employed himself in composing a comic opera, with no other object than to endeavour to introduce more

melody in the instrumental parts, and more | bours to agree together. In France, where | from the further extremity of the empire

expression in the singing than had been attempted by other composers of the day. His task being completed, he shewed it to some of his friends, and wished to have the advice of Gianotti, his master. Gianotti, amazed at what his pupil had done, immediately proposed that they should exchange characters, and begged that he would give him the score of the Opera with permission to get it represented under his name, observing, that it would certainly make his fortune. Monsigny would readily have resigned it, for he had all the disinterested ness of a man who seeks to acquire neither money nor reputation by his talent. But unfortunately for Gianotti, all the airs of the Opera were known to the friends of Monsigny, so that had the latter given it up, he could not have renounced the title of composer, which in this case was all that

was valuable.

In 1758, this first production of Monsigny was performed at the theatre of La Foire, under the title of Les Aveux indiscrets. The success which the Opera obtained, proved a triumph to the drama and to music, rather than to the composer, who remained anonymous. But this success eanboldened him to advance still further on the road which he had opened. In 1760, he produced Le Maitre en Droit, Le Cadi dupé, and successively On ne s'avise jamais de tout, Le Roi et le Fermier, Rose et Colas. Every one urust feel the charm of those Operas in which the composer, always inspired by Nature, and drawing the beauties of his art from their very source, founds the expression of his songs on the simple and true accent of each passion, of each sentiment, studied in the language of the soul and of the voice; -a truly origi

Such are the immense stores of provisions collected at this Christmas mart, that, even by a moderate calculation, they are estimated at upwards of two thirds are consumed during the five succeeding winter months.

of what

To form some notion of this singular spectacle, the reader must picture to himself from fifteen to twenty thousand oxen,

frozen and

piled up in heaps, and some

genuine Comedy is formed on so perfect a to find purchasers, which their home con-
model, and where so much circumspec- sumption does not afford them.
tion must be observed towards a public
always more inclined to see than to hear an
Opera, and to judge of a singer by his act-
ing, it was necessary to obtain reciprocal
concessions from each art. That the art of
writing dramas for music might be com-
bined with the art of composing music for
dramas, the union of a composer and a poet
respectively capable of this mutual under-
standing was requisite. In the moral, as
well as in the physical order, it would ap-
pear that there is a sort of preestablished
harmony to prepare the concurrence of ele-
ments formed to be united; and when
these elements exist, it is rare that they do
not come in contact. Accordingly Sedaine
and Monsigny met. When the forner
heard the duet in the Cadi dupé, That's the
man for me, he exclaimed; and he could
not sleep until he had been introduced to
Monsigny. From that moment they were
inseparable.
No one ever travelled to Parnassus by a
longer or more tedious road than Sedaine.
Born in poverty, at first a stone-cutter,
next a master mason, then an architect, but
always possessed with the demon of writing
verses, he at length discovered his own ta-
lent, and made it known to the public, who
at that time were but little disposed to esti-
mate duly the art of composing Operas, or
of writing poetry for music. To gain as he
did the Academic Chair, great persever-
ance was requisite on his part; and on the
part of the Academy, a vast share of that
spirit of justice which rejects no applica-

tion of talent, and in every style of writing
disdains only mediocrity. Sedaine had at-
tained superiority in his style. It has been

nal model for the artist, an inexhaustible observed, that the poet should have the

model; but, like every other, it has its fair sides and principal points of view, which are seized by the first observer, and when once seized, the succeeding student has no alternative but to make inroads on truth for the sake of novelty, or to fall short of it by disregarding Nature, except in copies. These works commenced the revolution of taste: to them the Theatre de la Foire was

indebted for becoming a regular theatre under the name of the Comedie Italienne, and the Opera Comique was established.

Previously to this period, what was styled a comic Opera, was for the most part a wretched Comedy, prolonged by songs devoid of melody. It was a species of Vaudeville, in which music, far from being the principal spring of the dramatic entertainment, was scarcely an indifferent auxiliary. If the drama possessed either interest or wit, a song was unseasonably introduced to interrupt the one or destroy the other; and alternately, the majority of the audience in the pit thought the piece one half too long:some came for the sake of the music, and others for the sake of the Comedy.

genius of the musician for whom he writes.
This is saying too much; but he certainly
ought to be well acquainted with the genius
of music and of song. He should be care-
ful not to throw too inuch energy and spirit
into those words which ought to receive their
animation and spirit from the musician.
He should seize the situations which may
be prolonged without injuring the action;
and should prefer sentiments to thoughts,
passion to reasoning, images to ideas, and
scenic effect to scenic management. This
was what Sedaine understood in perfection.
No one possessed this talent better than he
-no one could write a more natural and
easy dialogue; and as he had
success of Monsigny, this mention of him
in the eloge of his illustrious associate
cannot be thought out of place.

a share in the

(To be concluded in our next.)

SKETCHES OF SOCIETY.

CHRISTMAS AT ST. PETERSBURGH AND
MOSCOW.

At Christmas, the Russians lay in their
winter stock of provisions; a great market

Monsigny enjoyed the honour, if not of concluding, at least of preparing the union of these two interests, which, like two bor- is held on the ice of the Neva, where enordering powers, seem to be too near neigh-mous quantities of provisions are brought

hundred thousand sheep rising in pyramids on the ice. The interstices are filled up by millions of poultry, whose beautiful plumage gives variety to the scene. The poultry and game are arranged in festoons and wreaths, whilst the uniformity is broken by piles of eggs, fish, and fruits. From whence comes this immense quantity of provisions, is a reflection which naturally arises, after the surprise of the first coupd'œil. The answer is, from all quarters of the Russian empire: the veal from Archangel, 250 leagues distant; the poultry from Cassan; the fish from the Dwina or the Volga, at a distance of between 3 and 400 leagues.

Such is the facility of communication during the winter season, that in spite of the enormous distance between the various places of production and the market, the price of provisions is extremely moderate; a pound of beef costs about threepence, a pound of mutton twopence, a goose fifteen

rice. This a hare the same price.

pence, and
market lasts four days, and is held on a
space half a league in length, and the pro-
visions, heaped up in the manner above de-
scribed, form several streets, according to
the quantity collected.

The Russians maintain a very extensive trade at Moscow; but all trade, instead of being, as in other European cities, scattered through various parts of the town, is here confined within one particular quarter, called the Khitai Gorod, where the Exchange is situated. This place is inhabited entirely by merchants, and is divided into sections, each of which is destined to a particular branch of trade. All retail trade is carried on in the Khitai-Gorod. The residences of the merchants are separate from their warehouses, and frequently at a great distance from them. In the morning they go to their warehouses, where they remain all day, and in the evening return to their families. This custom seems to have been borrowed from the Asiaties, for it is mentioned by traveliers as a characteristic mark of Eastern trade.

Another singularity, peculiar to the trade of Moscow, is the market for houses, which is held in an immense open place, dependent on one of the suburbs of Moscow There the purchaser may obtain either a house, or part of a house, by describing what will suit him. The builders always keep an abundance of patterns and pieces of timber ready to be put together, so that a house is fréquently built in the short space of a weck, notwithstanding the ting

« PreviousContinue »