The Accompaniment is simple, and duly supports the voice-part without obscuring it by engaging too much of the Hearer's attention. 3. La Bien-venue, a Rondo for the Pianoforte; composed by Samuel Webbe, jun. 1s. 6d. pp. 3. THIS Rondo is scarcely worth notice, except as an easy exercise for Learners. It would be no easy matter to ascertain its musical character. For any thing that we know to the contrary, it might just as well have been named "The trotting Donkey." 4. P. A. Corri's Original System of Preluding, comprehending Instructions on that branch of Piano-forte Playing, with upwards of Two Hundred progressive Preludes in every Key and Mode, and in different styles, so calculated that variety may be formed at pleasure. pp. 32. 8s. Chappel and Co. THE Preludes here published may be serviceable if learned by heart, or, as the Author expresses it, by ear; but to think of teaching the art of preluding without some previous knowledge of thorough bass, or harmony, is like teaching a parrot to reason. Perhaps this way of guessing the chords constitutes the originality of Corri's original system." "Every performance should be introduced by a Prelude, not only to prepare the ear for the key in which the air or piece is played, but to prepare the fingers, and therefore should in general consist of some rapid movement, intermixed with chords, arpeggios, or other passages. A Prelude is supposed to be played extempore; and to lay down rules would be as impossible as wrong, for the fancy should be unconfined. But for those who are not acquainted with the rules of counterpoint, or composition, I shall submit several specimens or styles of Prelude, adapted to every capacity: those desirous to learn more on the subject, must study that other branch. A Prelude may be of various description: it may be long or short, simple or complex, confined to one key, or modulating into a variety of keys; consisting of chords, &c.—in short, as the fancy may direct; but confined to this rule, that it must begin and end in the same key, which must be the key in which the movement is going to be played. The style for playing Preludes should be bold and energetic; the running passages executed with brilliancy and velocity; the chords that are long, and which con clude the Prelude, should not be struck together, but by a long-extended appogiando. Appogiando signifies playing a chord in a leaning or slanting direction, so that the notes are heard successively. Those chords which begin any run or passage should have emphasis, and should be played more together, and with more fimness. When there are several chords The together, they should be played almost together, and not appogiando. arpeggios, and passages, wherein both hands combine, and that are linked with ties, &c. must be played perfectly regular and legato, keeping as many notes down as possible. In the performance of Preludes, all formality or precision of time must be avoided: they must appear to be the birth of the moment, the effusion of the fancy for this reason it may be observed, that the measure or time is not always marked at Preludes." P. 1—4. The rest of the work consists al most entirely of examples, of " codas, and capriccios." capos, P 5. Haydn's favourite Quartett, arranged for the Piano-forte, by Dr. Crotch. Nos. I. & II. each 3s. 6d. Chappel & Co. IT is needless to praise these mastercompositions, for the united names of Haydn and Crotch are sufficient recommendation to all real lovers of musick. Each of these Quartets consists of four movements, of which the third is an adagio, and the fourth a presto. No. 1. is in C major, and its adagio in F; No. II. is in E major, and its adagio in A. Both may be studied with advantage by those performers who are sufficiently advanced and they will present many new diffi culties to the young player, who has confined his practice to thin compositions in the Latour style. There is a curious change from triple to common time in the adagio of No. I. page 8. Dr. Crotch has fixed the time in which every movement is to be performed, by stating the length of a pendulum to swing quavers or crotchets. It is to be desired that all Composers would adopt the same method. Of these two Quartets we greatly prefer the second, which is truly charming. It is worthy of remark that No. I. ends with the fifth of the triad for the highest sound, an uncommon termination, and rarely pleasing. SELECT SELECT POETRY. CARMEN TRIUMPHALE. For the Commencement of the Year 1814. By ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ. Poet-Laureat. IN happy hour doth he receive The laurel, meed of famous bards of Which Dryden and diviner Spenser woreIn happy hour-and well may he rejoice, Whose earliest task must be To raise the exultant hymn for victory, And join a Nation's joy with harp and voice, Pouring the strain of triumph on the wind, Glory to God, his song-Deliverance for Mankind! Wake, lute and harp! My soul take up Glory to GOD! Deliverance for Mankind! Joy, for all nations, joy! but most for thee Who hast so nobly fill'd thy part assign'd, O England! O my glorious native land! For thou in evil days didst stand Against leagued Europe all in arms array'd, Single and undismay'd, Thy hope in Heaven and in thine own right hand. Now are thy virtuous efforts overpaid, Thy generous counsels now their guerdon find, Glory to GOD! Deliverance for Mankind! Subdued, some yielding to superior art; Submiss, they follow'd his victorious car. Their Kings, like Satraps, waited round his throne: For Britain's ruin and their own By force or fraud in monstrous league combined. Alone in that disastrous hour Britain stood firm, and braved his power; Alone she fought the battles of mankind. O virtue, which above all former fame, Exalts her venerable name! O joy of joys for every British breast! That with that mighty peril full in view, The Queen of Ocean to herself was true! That no weak heart, no abject mind possess'd Her councils, to abase her lofty crest,Then had she sunk in everlasting shame,But ready still to succour the oppress'd, Her red-cross floated on the wave unfurl'd, Offering redemption to the groaning world. First from his trance the heroic Spaniard woke; His chains he broke, 4nd casting off his neck the treacherous yoke, Oh, had the sun stood still that hour, Fled from their fields of shame! Spain felt thro' all her realms the electric blow; Cadiz in peace expands her gates again; And Betis, who to bondage long resign'd, Fiow'd mournfully along the silent plain, Into her joyful bosom unconfined Receives once more the treasures of the main. The fame of that victorious fight.. The Lusitanian legions moved: Disdain her willing sons to see Onward he goes, rejoicing in his strength? From From Douro, from Castille's extended plain, The foe, a numerous band, Retire; amid the heights which overhang Dark Ebro's bed, they think to make their stand. [speed; He reads their purpose, and prevents their Vain their array, their valour vain : Raise now the song of joy for rescued Spain! And Europe, take thou up the awakening strain Glory to God! Deliverance for Mankind! And Frederic, best and greatest of the name, Treads in the path of duty and of fame. See Austria from her painful trance awake! The breath of GoD goes forth,—the dry bones shake! Up Germany! with all thy nations rise! Land of the virtuous and the wise, No longer let that free, that mighty mind, Endure its shame! She rose as from the dead. [head She broke her chains upon the Oppressor's Glory to God! Deliverance for Mankind! Open thy gates, O Hanover! display Thy loyal banners to the day; Receive thy old Illustrious Line once more! Beneath an Upstart's yoke oppress'd, Long bas it been thy fortune to deplore That Line, whose fostering and paternal sway So many an age thy grateful children blest, The yoke is broken now! a mightier hand Hath dash'd-in pieces dash'd-the iron rod. To meet her Princes, the deliver'd land Pours her rejoicing multitudes abroad; The happy bells from every town and tower, And William the Deliverer, doth thine eye Regard from yon empyreal realm the land For which thy blood was given? What ills hath that poor Country suffer'd long! [oppress'd Deceived, despised, and plunder'd, and Mockery and insult aggravating wrong! Severely she her errors hath atoned, And long in anguish groan'd, Wearing the patient semblance of despair, While fervent curses rose with every prayer! In mercy Heaven at length its ear inclined; The avenging armies of the North draw nigh, Joy for the injured Hollander, the cry All hearts are now in one good cause com→ Justice must go before, And Retribution must make plain the way; Force must be crushed by Force, The power of Evil by the power of Good, Ere Order bless the suffering world once more, Or Peace return again. Hold then right on in your auspicious THE WHITE COCKADE. AN ADDRESS TO THE FRENCH NATION. By W. T. FITZ-GERALD, Esq. Roll their glad peals upon the joyful wind; BRAVE Sons of France, you once could And from all hearts and tongues, with keenly feel [steel! Disgrace more piercing than the sharpest Polish'd in Courts, and gallantlin the Field, Pure honour graced the Lilies on your shield; Proud to support your Bourbon's splendid throne, [own! You ever made your Monarch's cause your And And can you now the Corsican obey, Can you his base detested pomp support, The low, mean shadow of your former Court? The air of France seems tainted with his breath, [death! His smile is poison, and his friendship The wretch, who shared his plunder, hopes in vain, [tain; Wealth, Hell-derived, in safety to mainHe too is robb'd to prop the Murderer's throne, For who can call a Tyrant's gifts his own! A base Assassin laid Great Henry lowBut where's the hand to strike the Patriot blow? To hunt the Monster in the battle's rage, Then seize and chain him in the Tartar's Or rid the World, by one avenging deed, Of him who made devoted millions bleed! Who dragg'd your Sons, like Felons, every hour, To glut ambition, and his lust of power! Dragg'd them to perish in the Northern [last! Oh! would that crime had been the Tyrant's Be then again yourselves, and break his chain; Follow the bright example set by Spain! See Holland shakes his fetters from her hand, And breathes once more The Rhine beholds her Sons no more obey A Wretch whose crimes pollute the face of day, But sees her rights and liberties restored By friendly nations and her native sword! Though from the Pyrenæan Heights ad Victorious Britons in the Plains of France; No plunder'd Provinces, or Towns in flame, To give you promise of a happier day; *Timor the Great, when he defeated and took Bajazet prisoner, had him conSued in an iron cage, and carried about with the victorious army. fate, He dies lamented by the Good and Great; And to do honour to the hostile brave, The generous foe plants cypress on his grave! Reflecting as he bends his laurel brow, His end may one day be what thine is now! For, though ambition might thy life mis- Gaul! THE SECOND ODE OF TRANSLATED BY LORD THURLOW. HORNS to the bull, hoofs to the horse, * Vide Mr. Fitzgerald's Address to the Literary Fund, on their Anniversary last May, in vol, LXXXIII. Part I. p. 462. THE THE FOURTEENTH ODE OF ANACREON. TRANSLATED BY LORD THURLOW. YES, I wish, I wish to love; Cupid of old this thing did move, But I, that had no prudent mind, To my true interest then was blind, And nothing to his speech thelin'd. Then he lift up his bow to view, And his golden quiver too; Then he provok'd me to the fight, And I arm'd me for my right, My shining breast-plate I put on, And, like a new Achilles, shone, And shield and spear I brought with me, To wrest from Love the victory. He threw, and I too threw my dart, But soon the God had play'd his part, No other darts he had to throw, Then took it ill, the angry foe, And threw himself, i' th' shape of a dart, Into the middle of my heart, Life and body then did part. In vain I held my shield on high, Why outwards should we fortify, When the war within doth lie? Oh! that my spirit's eye could see SONG. THE Storm that rag'd throughout the night The havock which the Storm had made. So keen Adversity subdues The generous mind, the heart sincere, And Virtue, as the wreck she views, Bestows a renovating tear. C. F. W. BEN JONSON'S CLUB LAWS. Leges Conviviales, quod felix faustumque Convivis in Apolline sit. NEMO asymbolus, nisi umbra huc venito, Idiota, insultus, tristis, turpis abesto. Eruditi, Urbani, Hilares, Modesti adsciscuntur, Nec lectæ Fœminæ repudiantur. In apparatu, quod convivis corruget nares nil esto, [parantur; Epulæ delectu potius, quàm sumptu Obsonator, et Coquus convivarum gulæ periti sunto; De Discubitu non contenditur. Ministri à dapibus, oculati et muti, A poculis auriti, et celeres sunto. Vina puris fontibus ministrantur, aut vapulet hospes, [esto, Moderatis poculis provocare sodales fas At fabulis, magis quam vino velitatio fiat, Convivæ nec muti, nec loquaces sunto. De seriis aut sacris, poti, et saturi ne disserunto, Fidicen nisi accersitus non venito. |