nearer the throat, and is therefore not so brilliant nor so facile in execution as Mr. Sapio's or Mr. Braham's.

The Italian base voices appear to me incomparably finer than those of most English base singers, for example, those of Signors Angrisani and Remorini. Our best English singers, who take the character of base, have been barytones. Messrs. Bartleman and Bellamy were both of this class. Messrs. Lacy and Sale indeed have legitimate base voices, and that of the former is particularly fine and round in quality, and as superior in power. Mr. Sale's voice affords a magnificent foundation in a glee. Mr. Lacy was taught by Rauzzini, and I suspect the Italian formation is by far the best for this species of voice.

Upon reading over all that I have written, the doubts I have suggested and the examples I have cited, I am afraid little more will result from the enquiry than a conviction of the nicety, delicacy, and difficulty of avoiding the dangers incident to the formation by the head or by the throat. For after all there is a tact about teachers which they gather from experience, that sets theory very much at nought. This tact however is liable to errors of habit, and therefore theory may often correct practice. In this hope I have set down my thoughts.

R.

London, May the 15th, 1825.

ANSWER TO SPECULATOR.

TO THE EDITOR.

SIR,

UPON PON perusing the Letter of your Correspondent, "Speculator," in the last Number of the Review, respecting the impressions made upon his mind by the "Singing of Birds," it struck me that I could partially reply to the question that follows after the subjoined passage, "when we hear a whole grove made vocal with the notes of the thrush, robin, the chaffinch, and many other little

birds, all at different pitches, and all uttering inappreciable sounds, the effect is physically agreeable." He then asks, "How is this to be reconciled, not only to our sensations, but to our settled musical notions?" Now allowing his first assertion to be decidedly correct to every sensitive and feeling mind, "that the singing of birds is no where so delightful as in the woods and fields, and that "in a cage, on the contrary, their voices are intolerably shrill and discordant," I think we shall have a clue to the solution of the question at once, and may reply, that independent of the laws of acoustics, which regulate the vibrations and pulses of the air, (see Young on Sounds, page 46) the obvious tendency of the mind, which, upon a serene day, when away from the 66 busy hum of men," and moving among the most artless and interesting beauty of nature, lightened and relieved from care, is to magnify unconsciously all one's pleasures, and to banish far away that critical spirit which, on other occasions, officiously but justly interferes to promote comparisons, and to search into causes. I might bring a variety of instances to illustrate this fact, but it is rendered almost unnecessary by the implied opinion which "Speculator" seems to entertain, that these things are wholly or "partly the effect of association," which is further confirmed when he mentions that the wild notes of these little songsters have "cast as many soft and noble hints into the soul, as the band of the Philharmonic Society, though when I have abstracted myself from the emotion, I was forced to admit the sounds to be most of them inappreciable, and according to the laws of musical science, discordant."

How greatly the power of association acts upon the mind at times every one must have felt whose feelings are not blunted and rendered obtuse by a commerce with the world. I shall never forget the effect that was produced by a few simple notes. from the bugle of some regiment, which struck suddenly upon my ear during a solitary walk over a heath one summer evening. Every thing was calm and serene-the sheep were grazing peacefully around me, as I wandered on, buried in thoughts of the past, and dreamy conjectures for the future, when the soft, mellow, and rich tones of the bugle stole upon me from the distance, like some "aerial music," producing such a delightful thrilling sensation, and seeming to speak peace to my contending thoughts, that I lis

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tened with eager attention to every note which the wind wafted, with swelling" and "dying" falls to my charmed ear, until gradually receding, it seemed to fade away. I can account for this in no other way than by supposing a chord of sympathy had been struck which vibrated so powerfully, and caused such strong emotions, such indeed as no cultivated music could possibly have caused. Had this been heard in a theatre or concert room, unaccompanied by adjunct circumstances, I should most probably have been disgusted with it. Such I conceive may be the effect of the music of the "winged choristers," for although separately considered, some of their notes are absolutely "discordant and inappreciable," yet when united, and in the open air, which has the effect of mellowing and softening all sounds that are not like the thunder of heaven, or the roar of artillery, overpowering and unmusical-when heard in this manner they may mingle like the notes of the organ, which are composed of various intervals upon each note, and which, from some unknown law in acoustics, contribute to form an harmonious effect. Having thus briefly endea voured to shew that association is the chief cause of our pleasure on hearing these little vocalists, I may be permitted to remark upon the second part of Speculator's Letter, wherein he says, "I think there is an analogy between the singing of birds and the inflexions of speech." Will he allow me to differ with him on this point, and explain my reasons. There is certainly a slight degree of similitude, but it consists merely in this, that they are both a species of vocal sound; but further, I should contend the analogy cannot be made out, inasmuch as from his own admission, "In the latter (speech) we do unquestionably, up to a certain degree, recognize the operation of melody according to the diatonic and chromatic scales;" while, on the other hand, it is plain that the warbling of birds is a wild and natural instinct, not to be confined within the limits of rule or controuled by the laws of science. It is not to the mere notes of the birds that we are to attribute the effect their artless warblings have upon us, but it is to the freedom and innocence of the song-the light, pleasing, and unfettered appearance of these gratuitous musicians, together with the lurking wish (which I must confess I have often felt upon listening to them), that we were as free from thraldom and caro as themselves.

'

*

Far otherwise however is it with the inflexions of speech," which, in the instances "Speculator" produces of Mrs. Siddons, Young, and Kean, militate, I think, entirely against his abovementioned analogy. Cultivated minds, in our civilized and enlightened days, expect from the professors of the histrionic art a refined elocution, which, although it ought generally to imitate natural emotions, is nevertheless subject to certain laws of study and stage effect, and must to a certain degree be confined within the limits of natural modulation. Nothing for instance can be so wearying and tormenting an outrage upon the ear, as to sit a whole evening and listen to Kean's outrageous transitions in scenes of passion, &c. it is indeed "un-melodious melody," as Speculator calls it, and has not the remotest foundation in nature, unless indeed the savage Indian may be considered the original of this prototype. In listening to the inflexions of speech, particularly on the stage, far different are our feelings and ideas to those produced by the singing of birds. We know that the actor before us is a being like ourselves, representing characters in history or fiction, of a similar nature to those we see every day in private life. We feel that he ought to study to do away all his defects before be presumes to come and solicit the patronage of the public; and if in the delivery of his part any disagreeable pronunciation, or distortion of language should appear, that is not consonant with the situation he ought to represent, immediately the mind condemns and reject the "discordant sounds;" criticism is on the alert in every man's mind who sits in a theatre. Party, friendship, rivalry, prejudice, and many other shackling feelings prevent that entire freedom of mind which we enjoy when "alone," as it were" with nature." We are cabined and confined perhaps in an overflowing house-we have paid our money, and if not sufficiently amused, grow discontented and uneasy, besides which the stretch of attention we are obliged to bestow, at the close of the day, when most of us require rest; all these things I think

In

* Upon this subject it may be not impertinent to notice the variety, in the tones or inflexions, observable in the natives of different countries. many parts of Scotland the inhabitants uniformly drop their voices upon coming to the conclusion of a sentence; while the people in the county of Westmeath, in Ireland, as constantly raise theirs to a ludicrous pitch, beginning at one of the lowest notes, they gradually rise by a sort of scale of quarter tones to the highest note in their voices.

completely prevent the analogy your Correspondent would infer.

It appears to me that there are no "contradictions to our general sense and general science" in these effects, as the concluding sentence of Speculator's Letter asserts; and I submit these imperfect observations to his notice, under the impression which most writers entertain, that they are right; at the same time I agree with him that the subject is curious, and might not unprofitably engage the attention of an abler reasoner than, Sir, your's, &c.

GRAN GUSTO.

FREDERICK.

SIR,

TO THE EDITOR.

It has sometimes been enquired whether the term “Gran gusto” be or be not equivalent to "the great style" in English; and the question appears to me to afford matter for consideration and for illustration; I shall therefore attempt to set down the suggestions of my mind upon this matter.

I myself imagine that there is a difference-a difference founded, as almost all the distinctions of Italian and English singing are founded-on constitutional and national circumstances, connected with the sentiments and manners of the two countries. The English fix their beau ideal of grandeur in the church-the Italians in the theatre, and hence the principal shades of distinction. Out of this fact arises also the differences that are rather technical than philosophical.

I have in vain ransacked my memory and my musical library to find an English song, from an English opera, in the legitimate Gran gusto, which, as I take it, requires depth and transition of passion. Our dramatic composers for the stage will probably think I use them very hardly, when I say I cannot find a solitary VOL. VII. NO. XXVII.-SEPT. 1825.