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whole scope of musical passion like it. There is no such example of various and exciting recitative.tv moze rectum sit on orla 19719-do att The drawback upon Bartleman's singing was his vocalization. He is "the single and great exception " we mentioned aboves He had embraced a theory that the perfection of tone was its general uniformity→→→ its homogeneity. To this intent he rounded the pronunciation of his vowels, thus making thy into thoy, die into doy, &c. &c.) This swelling and sonorous system of enunciation, for system it was, corrupted the purity, and infected the whole manner with a pomposity that was very like the affectation of a superiority not absolutely certain of its claims. In Bartleman however it passed in his followers it has been found intolerable, and has materially stopped their progress by stamping them for mere imitators. But the true objection is that it is wrong in principle, for, independently of the evils already noticed, it impedes execution, falsifies the articulation of words, and renders the tone impure, by introducing the instrumentality of the lips and mouth erroneously employed; yet he was unquestionably the first singer of his time, in that species. The very corruptions universally introduced by his imitators, and they have been nearly all those who have succeeded him, are the proofs. With the music, however, the manner will pass away, and the velocity, articulate pronunciation, and freedom from the affectation of pomp and all such artifices, necessary to the execution of Rossini's compositions, and others of the same manner, together with the rage for the comic songs and duets of the Italians which now pervades all musical circles, will in no very long time obliterate all but the remembrance, and with the present generation even the remembrance will pass away. The Italian method of vocalization will wholly supersede it. of may be

Just as Mara's star was declining, that of Billington reascended. She had been known in her youth, celebrated both for her beauty and voice, and she remained before the public till 1793, when she determined to quit the profession, and went abroad. She was, however, induced to relinquish that intention, and, after making a furore" in Italy, she returned to this country in 1801, certainly a very different singer to what she had departed. So eager was the struggle for her, that both theatres retained her. She was engaged for the Italian Opera in 1803, and appeared whenever there was any considerable meeting till 1809, when she finally and indeed quitted public life. · 9907 9pileo to

By nature Mrs. Billington was largely gifted. Her voice was of that peculiar brilliancy in tone that has obtained the appellation of fluty; for, with the richness and fulness of that instrument, it had a bird-like lightness and brilliancy, whilst its compass upward was all, but unlimited.

* When Bartleman had reached his very zenith, he went down to a provincial meeting, and a newspaper critic pointed out these defects, but in so delicate a phra seology, that his exposition was somewhat obscure. Bartleman called upon him and requested an explanation, saying that he had sung in every part of England, and no such objection had ever been raised A meeting was appointed, and a musical clergyman attended as a mutual friend and umpire. The pianoforte was opened : "Now," said the critic, turning to a duet in Haydn's Creation," "listen to this passage," which he sang. I do not like it,” said Bartleman; "it is too thin and meagre the tone is not sufficiently of one kind." “I expected as much,” said the demonstrator. "Now listen to yourself ;" and he sang the passage in Bartleman's exact tone and manner. He had not got beyond the first few bars, when the artist seized him by the arm, and exclaimed, with some vehemence, "Stop, sir; I see it; but you have made me miserable for life, for I shall never correct it."

Her

Shield composed a song for her that went up to G in altissimo, a height never reached, we believe, before or since. Her intonation was so correct, that she was hardly ever known to sing out of tune. execution was perfect, and her fancy suggested more than her good taste would allow her to introduce, for the age of fiddle-singing," as it has been contemptuously termed, was then only about to commence. She, however, embellished every song she sang, changing the passages, and introduced more extensively the expression of ornament. But with all this power, imaginative and vocal, she nevertheless retained a chastity in her manner of executing Purcell and Handel, which made her the idol of the ancients. She united cordially with the Greatorex party; and for her, it is known, the practice of harmonizing airs was first commenced. Carter's beautiful and pathetic "Oh Nanny, wilt thou gang with me," was the most popular, and it certainly was an exquisite treat to hear such a voice descanting above the accompanying vocal harmony of Harrison, Knyvett, and Bartleman. We may here take occasion to illustrate this part of our subject, by pointing out that to this party, perhaps, is owing the polish and perfection at which madrigal and glee singing is now arrived. They sang continually together both for practice and in public, and they endeavoured to give to singing in parts the same finish that renders solo singing so superior. Each part was chastened to ts utmost, and the effect of all together exalted infinitely, as well by the lights and shadows of tone-by alternate force and delicacy, by the contrast of loud and soft, as by the exact sobriety of the middle tint, so to speak, by which the general efficiency could be best sustained and enriched. They spoke together, sang together, and blended all into one delicious mass of sweet and expressive sound. This school produced several singers of a lower rank indeed, but of considerable celebrity. Miss Cantelo, afterwards Mrs. Harrison, Miss Jackson, afterwards Mrs. Bianchi Lacy, and Miss Tennant, are three examples of no ordinary attainment. Miss Parke reached, and Mrs. Wm. Knyvett retains, a still higher place. Glee parties have been maintained and supported by the Messrs. Knyvetts, Elliot, Evans, Sale, Terrail, and some others, who still flourish; indeed the choirs of the Chapel Royal, St. Paul's, the Abbey, and Windsor, reciprocate with the Ancient Concert, and afford each other, and the school itself, their mutual support.

Vaughan and Bellamy succeeded Harrison and Bartleman, but neither of them have attained anything like the same elevation. They were highly polished singers, but they lacked the capital distinctionoriginality. They were content to follow in the track marked out by their greater predecessors, and can be said to have added nothing to the science or the practice of vocal art.

The vacancy left by Billington, as an English singer, was first occupied by Mrs. Salmon, one of the very musical family of the Mahons. There was something so exquisite in the tone of her voice, that, like Harrison's, it enchanted the hearer at once. Her facility was not less delightful, but she was distinguished neither by a fervid imagination nor any commanding faculty of intellect. She continued, however, to enjoy the first place in the orchestras of England till the last five or six years, when, from some nervous affection, her voice appeared to fail.

kr

The well-known high song in " Flauto Magico" extends only to F. Miss Corri sang it with ease.

We have thus run through the higher names that have dignified English art in this its true school. We must now turn to the next branch-the Theatre.

The English Theatre was at a very low ebb, scientifically speaking, at the close of the last century. Kelly and Incledon had occupied the first places. Kelly's voice was naturally bad; so bad that Dr. Arnold used to say it was like "the tearing of brown paper;" but he had been well and variously instructed, both at home and in foreign lands, and returned a prodigy for the time. Incledon was purely English. His professional life was coloured by an incident of his boyhood. He began a chorister in the cathedral of Exeter. A relative of one of the dignitaries was charged with a heinous offence. Incledon was a principal witness. The simplest way of getting rid of his evidence was to send him on board a man of war, then no very uncommon stretch of power. He was accordingly kidnapped and kept afloat for some years. Hence his predilection for sea ditties, and his success in them. But Incledon was splendidly gifted by nature; his voice was not only powerful, rich, and ductile as gold, but his falsette was more exquisitely toned than that of any singer we ever heard. His energy was great, his sensibility scarcely less, and, but for the vulgarity of his manner, he was qualified to take, and would have taken, a very high place. His pronunciation was thick, and affected by something like a lisp, which proceeded from a roll of his too large tongue, when he prepared for a forcible passage, or was embarrassed by the word. In this way, too, he used to jump to his falsette by octaves, for the tone (it was that of a rich flute) was so widely different from his natural voice, there could be no junction. His singing was at once natural and national. The hunting song the sea song-and the ballad, given with English force and English feeling, may be said to have expired with Incledon. He was the manliest of singers.

In 1797, appeared John Braham, the man who has stamped its most universal character upon the style of his age. He was first trained to sing at the synagogue, under Leoni, who was, it is said, his relation; but his real master was Rauzzini. Although he had sung both in London and at Bath, he burst, as it were, upon the musical world, in the full blaze of his powers, at the period above named. Stephen Storace wrote Mahmoud (his last and one of his best works) for his introduction. The writer of this article witnessed his début, and was never more astonished than by the marvellous ease of his execution and the facility with which he vanquished the most extraordinary difficulties. Every person of this age has heard Braham, but in a record of this nature, which it is hoped may attain some permanency, a more specific description of so gifted an artist is indispensable.

Braham's voice is a tenor, enlarged in compass by a falsette, and its whole range of really useful and good notes extends from A in the bass to

It is impossible to imagine anything more conceited, or more coarse than Incledon in private life, as well as on the stage. There is an anecdote in common circulation which combines these two qualities to demonstration. Some of his theatrical companions were one day discussing the qualities necessary to the performance of Macheath, when Incledon thus spoke: A man should be a gentleman, G- d— me, to play Macheath; he should be a man of education (another oath); he should have fine manners (a still stronger); in short (with a most blasphemous adjuration) he must be Charles Incledon.""

E in alt-a-scale of twenty notes. The tone, when not forced, approached the very best sounds of a clarinet, beautifully played, less reedy, though perhaps always a little lowered by that defect. It was so perfectly even and equal, and he possessed so thorough a command over it, that he could produce any giyen quantity or quality upon any part of it at pleasure; while, if he ran through his whole compass by semitones, it was impossible to point out at what precise interval he took, or relinquished, the falsette, though the peculiar quality of that voice, when he rose high, was sufficiently perceptible. But to this faculty (the true portamento* of Italian vocalization) he also added the power of colouring his tone according to the passion, he could increase or attenuate, its volume, not merely making it louder or softer, but by a distinctly different expression of tone, so to speak. It became bold or pathetic, tender or amatory, martial or despairing, according to the passion of the song."Whoever has heard Braham," says the editor of the "Quarterly Musical Magazine and Review," in his elaborate character of this artist," sing the first line of Waft her, angels, through the skies,' (from Jephthah,) and recollects such first line separately and apart from the rest of the song, will have heard the perfection of his tone, and will probably admit that he can produce sounds breathing hope, adoration, and fervent piety, sounds most touching and full of beauty. Whoever has heard him in the recitative preceding this air, Deeper and deeper still,' will have listened to as extraordinary changes of tone, expressing remorse, hesitation, the deepest anguish and despair, awe, heart-rending, yet firm and resolute obedience to divine power and justice, bitter thoughts urging to the very confines of madness, and finally the shuddering horror of pronouncing a sentence which fulfils an oath to heaven, and sacrifices all earthly hope of happiness. We can select no single specimen which assembles so considerable a portion of the light and shadow, of the colouring of tone, (if we may borrow such a a term,) as this admirable recitative and air. In the order of musical effects, it ranks, we think, with the finest efforts of Mrs. Siddons in the drama."

His volume was not less beyond almost all other voices than the quality and adaptation of his tone. His execution was still more prodigious: his fancy, too, was pregnant and exuberant to excess; while his attainments as a pianoforte player and musician enabled him to enrich his genius with the whole learning of the art.

Few persons possess a finer temper or a stronger intellect than Mr. Braham, and fewer still have laboured so incessantly in the pursuits analogous to his profession. All these attributes led to their extravagant employment, and he became not only the most varied, imaginative, and expressive singer, but by far the most florid. Perhaps he is right in the belief he entertains, that he was born about twenty years too soon, that he preceded his age. The singers of Italy, of the present day, do commonly what he introduced about thirty years ago. He cannot, however, stand excused for having abused his gifts and attainments. By doing everything, he has confounded everything: he has sung at table, in the orchestra, the concert, and the theatres Italian and English;

This term has been corrupted from its original and proper sense, "the conduct of the voice," to the glide by which the Italians, pass from note to note, both ascending and descending

he has ministered by turns to every taste, and revelled as heartily and as luxuriantly in the worst, as in the best parts of his art.* But let us do him justice. We are perfectly satisfied that the same judgment which has accused him of "frequently disappointing the ear at the very moment of its most intense and fervent expectation," "of quitting notes in an abrupt and unfinished state by sudden stops, and instant transition of words, and of the tone," of "refining too much, and pointing too powerfully," is not less correct when it pronounces that, taken as ä whole, Mr. Braham is the most accomplished singer it has fallen to the lot of the present, or perhaps any generation to hear." "He is master of every style. Not to admit this perfection, in its fullest acceptation, would be to deprive him of a part of his honours; and if he has rendered up himself to a luxuriance of ornament, to a degree of passionate expression a little above the colouring of truth, or if he has vitiated the purity of his taste, and the uniformity of his manner, by a general commingling of the styles of the church, the Italian and English theatre, the orchestra, and the chamber, it has been from a want of recollecting that the public judgment is formed by the study of such eminence as his own, and that, while it was his profession to administer to the pleasure of the age, it was his duty to preserve, and with such talents it was certainly given him to exalt, the dignity of his art!" sang Her tur Braham has had few competitors, no rival. During the long period of his public life (almost thirty-six years), he has stood alone; a sufficient indication not only of his supremacy, but of the extreme rarity of the intellectual and organic qualifications necessary to constitute a great artist. The nearest approach to r rivalry was in the person of Mr. Sapio, who possessed a beautiful voice, a good style, particu

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** Two anecdotes will serve to demonstrate the motives and circumstances which have corrupted this extraordinary man, and made him also the corruptor of his age, when he ought to have been, and would have been but for these influences, its best guide. Being at table with some of the finest musicians in the country, his friends, when there was some doubt as to his reception with the public, one of these remonstrated with him upon his extravagancies of the stages: “Did you ever know," asked Braham," any other singer who made eighty thousand pounds the

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by his voice ?" And who is the singer that, does this home to power po managers must grant his own terms." what gives Being encored three times." "And whores him three times 26 The pit and galleries. To them therefore he must sing?" 02979 20#,003 „goust ad So much for the money-getting part of the question, Turn we to the other side. Braham was conversing with a friend concerning the merciless way in, which he had been criticized, who defended his critics upon the ground of his having assumed all styles. Do you mean to say," asked the sensitive artist, "that I should have been a better singet had my practice been less multifarious ?”/“I do,” replied his friend. Braham sank for a few moments into a reverie, from which he broke, and speaking with great fervour, exclaimed, I never had an audience that could appreciate me: give me such an audience, and then see how I'll sing." direc Concert, a most u unjust and indefensible, from their orchestra, till his powers had sensibly declined, have much to answer for in this respect. The severe, not to say fastidious taste of that audience would, we doubt not, early applied, have polished away the imperfections which have so deeply injured our own English school, of dramatic music especially. Perhaps the highest compliment ever paid to a singer, and exceeded only by that well-known dustman's to the Duchess of Devonshire, is thus related by Brahain. He got entangled, by losing his way, in some obscure alley at the back of Bishopsgate-street. Scarcely had he entered it, when he saw four or five ruffians manifest. Nothing was left but to face them. As he passed on, he felt his handkerchief drawn from his pocket. This was no sooner done than one of the fellows who stood before him cried out, ""Tis Braham !"-the thief immediately threw it him back.